Taking the heat again... as usual

Well I am taking some heat for my comment in the Nov 20th post about having no desire to be young again and relive my youth so I thought I would duly explain myself.  Yes, it would be nice to be all young and non-wrinkly with the metabolism of a fruit fly but I have spent some time thinking about the pros and cons of such time reversal and I have to tell you that the best thing about being old is that I really, honestly don't give a fat flying flapjack about things that clearly would have kept me awake at night worrying even ten years ago.  Every wonderful year that goes buy I spend less and less time obsessing about what other people think and more and more time not giving a crap about things that might have bothered me before.  I also spend more time thinking about how grateful I am that I have the people in my life and less time trying to find new ones (big time saver here, just sayin).  I feel extremely blessed that I have such an amazing group of friends.  Ah crap, I went from not giving a whatchamacallit to sappy.  The holidays are coming people and so is your family!  Start drinking now.  In a little under 15 days it will be all over and all that family will go back where they came from (sooo sort of kidding).

It's a diary of sorts........ if you want to call it that

Part of the reason I partake in all this writing is first because I love writing, always have, and second because I have learned that I have the WORST memory ever!  I figured at some point that I should write this stuff down because if I am ever going to hold a complete girly grudge against someone, I gotta remember why.  If I didn't I would just be friendly and nice to everyone all the time and we can't be having that happen.  There is however, another added benefit I found out yesterday.  You see, I have been trying as hard as I can to pretend Christmas is NOT coming this year and I have been given the gears by a few people about not commenting on the Christmas peril that is called shopping (as has been my previous practice).  After yesterdays post, I accidently hit December 2010 on the side and re-read my post from December 9, 2010.  It was like remembering a great idea one once had and had forgotten!  It's all I could think about the rest of the day!  I am definitely taking my own advice and following the holiday shopping tips I provided myself:  "My next venture out I will start out tipsy, bring someone along to hold my coat and purchases and wait till the mall is open until midnight and shop at 11 pm."  Freaking brilliant.  Now begins my search for a sober driver  (ruling out almost the entire friend population.  There are a few of you out there...... I will find you.) 

Resolution - of sorts

I have been pondering the New Years Resolution thing all ready.  In years past you would have read that I absolutely suck at keeping any type of resolution (as are most of us).  I think last year I even declared myself Resolutionless.  I keep thinking that I should really take action against the "winter fat" because that shit is not doing me any good.  Unlike a whale, my winter fat is doing nothing in the keeping me warm department!  It is however making my clothing not fit quite as well (my scarves still fit!)  The whole resolution thing seems to have a preliminary negative effect however as I seem to be using the upcoming lettuce fest as an excuse to eat more and by eating more I mean really, really bad food.  "Just one last time Mr. Cheeseburger, one last time."  Yikes.  I'm going to have my work cut out for me at this rate.  Doesn't help much that I associate wrapping presents with the partaking of wine and baking cookies definitely means ummmm well, more wine.  I am going to have to research food and beverage detox and proceed from there.  For now, I will try to contain myself and not add to the pending total of winter fat or winter fun fat.  Whatever.......  "I'll have a large fries with that guilt."

Me Not Very Bright

Have you ever had someone outright completely insult your intelligence?  I don't ever proclaim myself to be smart or even slightly intelligent however when someone insults the little bit of intellect I DO have I tend to not be very pleased.  This was the case this morning during a conversation whereupon I was so informed that I did not have the education or the mental wherewithal to attend a course about, of all things, internet web design.  The matter of taking this one day, free course, needed to be consulted with another member of the team who could advise if my little brain, with limited knowledge and education, would benefit from taking something so obviously over my head.  I hung up the phone and sat there stunned.  I don't normally talk (out loud) to myself but this was the one time I said "I just had my intelligence insulted!" (lets pretend there was at least a cat in the room who heard this proclamation and nodded knowingly).  After the shock wore off I phoned JCP who listened to my rant, agreed that maybe me just wasn't very smart enough to take this type of course and told me to stick with the easy stuff, like coloring and shape sorting.  My imagined revenge is to spend the weekend designing a completely detailed e-learning module on the internet and forwarding the link to the two people who need to decide if I could handle this type of course.  Will I do this?  Other than in my imagination, hell no!  Why give them the satisfaction.  I have a lot better things to do with my time this weekend......... ummmm like sporting events and celebrating the coming of Christmas with spirits. 

Two painful, thought provoking words..........

Two words for what's going on right now:

WINTER FAT

Finally........

Well I have finally figured out, after all this time, what I want to do when I grow up.  I want to be a teenager.  Not because I have some burning desire to relive my youth and certainly not because I want to be young again…. No…… I want to be a teenager because the life they live in this day and age appears to be the amazing dream.  Oh, I know what you’re going to say: “those poor, intellectually stunted creatures, they have so many more things to worry about now than we did.  Like internet bullying and where the next party at. “  Really?  Get the eff OFF the internet and that problem is solved.  Actually put your head up when you are walking down the street and see the world around you….. I digress.  Again.  From my perspective this is what "the good life" seems to be.  They - work (sometimes, because hey you get to take time off whenever you want because you are going out late and cannot get out of bed for your shift the next day OR take a few days off to go away with your buddies because you have worked really hard and deserve a break), play video games (because that is what they call “social interaction” all the while not moving from their gaming chair for six, seven hours – even to pee), eat (one of my all time favrourite things to do, they however seem to never have to cook or clean for that matter), pay no bills (because I’m entitled to not pay bills right?), sleep till all hours of the day (and then get up and game – not get up go pee THEN game.  What the hell are these people genetically like camels?) and best of all NEVER, EVER do any cleaning type stuff (including picking up after themselves).  Doesn’t this sound like the dream?  Sleep, eat, game, party, work (sometimes).  Sleep, eat, game, party…….  I am going to replace “gaming” with “reading” because unless the “game” is Pacman or Plants vs Zombies, I am not wasting my time.  Is “responsibilitieless” a word?  If not, it is now.  I am going to be a responsibilitieless teenager.  (Now that I think about it if you remove the work portion they are practically retired and hey, are we all not dreaming about retirement some day?  Huh, maybe I am on to something here!)

Neglectful? Yes!

I haven't forgotten about my propensity for dishing out sarcasm to those who choose to read it but I have, however, been busy with life (and elementary school math, it seems - but THAT is another story!)  As well, I have been working on a "story" that I wrote in 1996 (seriously, that was a long bloody time ago).  It is not so much a story as a memoir of sorts of my really good friends step-father.  This was a university paper that I was required to write that had me interviewing a "older adult" and relating psychological research to aspects of that persons life.  Sounds dull?  Well, let me tell you it was the one paper I wrote that ultimately stayed with me the rest of my life.  My friends step-dad passed away in 2003 but I always felt that I kept a piece of him in my heart and was and will be forever grateful that he shared his interesting life story with me.  I have been promising my friend for quite some time now that I would re-type this story that I hold so dear and send to her so she can then share the story with her family (especially the grandchildren, some of who may not have had the opportunity to ask questions about their grandfathers childhood).  I began to retype this amazing story and remove the psychological babble that is embedded into it and realized that, although I am grateful to have the information I managed to glean out of my "subject" the more I read the more pissed off I become at my much younger self!  Pissed off and disappointed.  Why? I just did not do this amazing man's story justice!  I have a million and three more questions to ask and its to damn late!  Every sentence I retype just creates more questions and I feel like I am going to be sending my friend  a woefully incomplete story of his life.  I am now thinking that I need to title this paper: The Young Inexperienced and Inadequate Writers Attempt at a Memoir.  How I got such a good grade on this paper is way beyond my imagination.  I will continue to make a decent run of this story and will definitely be sending a forward to it explaining my inexperience, youth and apologize for my obvious omissions.  (Seriously though, I can't even remember 1996!  I would like to say I was 12 or 13 years old then but I am pretty sure all of you would see right through that!)  Until then........ Christmas is coming!  Ahhh crap!

Perception or Paranoia?

 

A long, long time ago I took a class in university on the psychology of perception.  Now that I am older I realize that I did not appreciate that course while I was in it.  You see, I am learning that perception is a really huge part of each person’s reality.  What one person sees can be completely different than what another might see of the exact same situation.  Like the case with an armed robbery – five people witness the robbery – all five have a different story of what happened, all see it from their own personal perception.   I have also learned that there are people whose perceptions cannot be changed with reason or even concrete, solid evidence.  It’s almost like the stuff they see and process in their brains becomes a part of their reality, no matter how delusional it should happen to be.  Is this where the mind slips from perception to paranoia?  It’s like some people are unable to differentiate between what is real and what isn’t?  I have come across a few people in my time that twist a story in their brain and spend so much time thinking about it that the story, however fantastical it may be, becomes a part of their reality.  What isn't real, is truly real in their minds.   It is now that I wish I could ask that psychology instructor what the hell is going on with some of these people.  From all this I have also learned that, however hurtful the “stories” may be that these people weave, sometimes its just best to walk away and not even bother trying to reason with them.  Just "smile and wave boys, smile and wave".

It's all in a name.....

I have a friend that I have been struggling with her “code” name for quite some time.  I have the name but it just hasn’t seemed to be politically correct (even though she chuckles when I call her it)!  The revised acronym JCP simply cannot be pronounced.  Of course, when I put some vowels in the mix I always end up with Jackalope.  I am sure my friend would love to be considered a “mythical creature” however any time “Jack” is involved in a name my first thought is to add the other name for donkey.  That name will NOT do.  All this aside, it occurred to me the other night that JCP also stands for JC Penny!  Why this revelation made the acronym better for me I have no idea however now, when including JCP in my stories, I can call her a whole boatload of new names.  I can call her Jay Cee (rapper name), Penny, Princess or - best one yet – JaCkPot!  You get the picture.

Summer 2013 Reading List

After a recent lunch date with a really good friend it occurred to me that my super old, long outdated reading list is just that – old.  I have been on a reading frenzy lately and have had a few friends express their desire to know what I am reading and if I would bother recommending the book(s) to them.  So I give you my first ever reading list.  Mostly from the past two months but I had to throw two in the mix that I read a while ago (because they were awesome and I would love for everyone to read them).  Please, please, please email me if you have a book I need to read.  I am running out of books and I am number 210 on the waiting list at the library for a book referred to me by a friend.  If that isn't sad, then I don't know what is!  This list will as well help me later on when I buy an e-book and think it sounds familiar.  I will have an "already read that you idiot" list.  Win, win!  So I give you the:

 

Summer 2013 Reading List

 

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry – Rachel Joyce

 

This is one of the ones I read some time ago.  You gotta read this.  If your looking for one of Oprah's "Ah Ha" moments, this one will definitely deliver.  This baby is a keeper.

 

 

 

Wild – Cheryl Strayed

This book was the inspiration behind my birthday Grind Climb.
Great book even if dumb ideas ensue.


 

Gone Girl – Gillian Flynn

 

I have recommended this book already to a couple of people.

The ending is NOT my fault.  I didn't write the thing!

In spite of the ending, I still loved the twists and turns of this one. 

Not what you might expect.

 

 

Under the Dome – Stephen King

 

I had stop reading Stephen King books a long time ago. They were just getting a bit to “horror show” for me.  I decided to read this one for two reasons.  The first is that it couldn’t be that bad if they went to the trouble to make a tv series out of it and second, I was in Starbucks and overheard the barista saying how much she loved the book and couldn’t put it down.  Since it was in the pile of books I borrowed from my sister, I thought why not?  I was not all that disappointed (mind you there were times in the million page book where I did think – “come on dude, enough already with the damn dome.  Let’s get that sucker down and see what happens with the characters next.”)  I also have to admit that I may have been a bit disappointed with the ending.  The best part for me however, was thinking about the psychological mess all his characters were going though and what I would do in the situations he brought forth (liquor store and or pharmacy robbery were among the top four things in my plan).

 

 

 

Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Book Store – Robin Sloan

 

  

I am not sure if this book made my "must read" list because the central location was a mysterious bookstore or because the characters were super quirky.  I did not want this one to end and would recommend to anyone looking for a fun read. 

 

 

Life After Life – Kate Atkinson

 

  This book confused the heck out of me at first, then I felt like I had more questions than answers for the longest time.  It definitely kept me reading and was the result of a few conversations that were very thought provoking.  Gotta love that!

 

 

 

 

 

A Tale For Time Being – Ruth Ozeki

 

I loved this book because it was well written and set in a real town very close to where I live, which is pretty cool in itself.  This was another one that I would have changed the ending but hey, who am I to say. 

 

 

 

Maya’s Notebook – Isabel Allendale

 

 This book was a true gem and a captivating read.  Interesting characters with a little humor.  Definitely a nice change from the serious everyday.

 

 

 

  

The Book of Negros

 

Seriously, I cannot believe it took me this long to read this book.  I could not put it down.  This one wins the most captivating character award.  Everyone should read this book.  They might even want to consider it for high school English classes.  I'm just sayin.

 

 

The Bungalow – Sarah Jio

I add this one to the list only because I am reading it now and, although I do not like love stories, AT ALL, I have not been able to put this book down I am saving the last 20 or so pages because I don't want it to end.

 

 

 

I am the only one watching commercials?

 

Ya, just call this a rant – There are commercials running right now for a clothing line that has a nice snappy tune and a bunch of models dancing happily throughout (I won’t mention any names here but the line is a guy name and also a cuppa – you’ll figure it out).  I am not sure if I am the only who has noticed this but did they get all the models from an eating disorder clinic?  There is the fact that almost all the clothing is horizontally striped and we all know that only about one percent of the entire population nowadays can actually wear horizontal stripes.  Either the clothing company is going to figure out their mistake real fast when the winter stock is still sitting on the shelves next summer OR there is going to be a whole ton of women walking around looking like they cut a dress out of their bed sheets!  I am sure someone questioned the intelligence of the clothing line when they hired the size two and size zero models and put those nasty referee looking dresses on them and they all looked HUGE!  After firing all the size zero “fatties” they must have had to go on a nation wide search for the skinniest, hungriest looking girls ever!  Poor things, they all look like they need a good sandwich.  Really, I am not against super skinny, no carb eating ladies.  What the problem here is somewhere out there a girl who is a perfectly beautiful size five (don’t some of us wish!) who is going to go to that store, try on one of those super cute, super slim fitting dresses and she is going to look in the mirror and cry.  If she happens to be with someone who knows the “law of horizontal stripes” then she may come out unscathed.  If not, I fear, she may figure she needs to diet to look like the clothing clad sticks in the commercial.  Lesson to be shared: we owe it to the world to ban horizontal stripes (and white shoes and pants – but that’s a personal thing) and I don’t me just us ladies – ever seen a dude in a striped shirt?  Need I say more?

How did it go? Really?

Grouse Grind successfully finished!  I suppose just getting to the top is an accomplishment in itself.  No air ambulance needed to be summoned, although I did think about calling them a couple of times.  I do have to admit that the only thing that kept me going throughout the climb was not my desire to accomplish something that an untrained, fatty like me could do or for some "inner" feeling of sorts.  No.  What kept me climbing up that damn mountain was two fold: first, you can't go down.  Down apparently is "prohibited".  Seriously.  I am not making that up.  Second, was that fact that there was a woman on the trail with (and I am sooo not making this up either) jeans, a blouse (yes, a blouse), a purse AND Croc type shoes climbing the mountain at the same time!  When I saw her I was astonished that someone would even attempt to climb the Grind in jeans (can you say chafing?) and all be damned if someone in Crocs was going to beat me up the mountain!  Not bloody likely.  So I suppose I should thank her for giving me the wherewithal to get my sorry ass moving (that and I was receiving a constant stream of texts from the money suckers who practically ran up the trail ahead of me and were hungry.  I am so going to leave that alone for right now!)  Anyway, I started out the adventure with gusto and determination.  In no less than 15 minutes I was considering getting my mental health checked by a professional.  Here is my Grind in a picture nutshell:

 

Here we go!  At the bottom pumped up and ready to go.

At this point the crazy children type people I have brought with me are long, long gone.  Up the mountain like a couple of bloody goats.  Goats I tell ya.

I did repeat one select word over and over and over in my head.  I will leave you with your imagination on that one!

I would have darn well cried if there were not so many people around.

"What the hell was I thinking" was also going through my head.  Often.

And to conclude:



Inquiring minds want to know... or so it seems??

I was asked the other day how my Grouse Grind "training" was going.  Well, I am happy to report that the back pain is gone and I am full on into the working out I promised myself I was going to do to prepare. Yes, I have ridden my stationary bike AT LEAST three times in the last month!  How that is going to help me climb a mountain is WAY beyond me but it has to be better than just sitting around growing.  Although my trusty Blackberry has been sending me daily reminders that the climb is coming, I have made the conscious effort to mentally prepare myself as well.  It's called DEE-NILE.  Some of us are better at it than others.  In this case I am the zen master of the denial train, which has served me well so far, until I stand at the base of the mountain the morning of the big climb with thoughts of grandeur about getting my fat ass to the top.  Maybe if one of the money suckers runs up the hill ahead of me with a bottle of wine and a chocolate bar I will be more motivated to get to the top.  Huh.  There's a thought.  I may or may not report back my success (I would put "or failure" here but failure is not an option unless an air ambulance needs to be called - which is extremely likely). 

My Old Friend Murphy

Yes, you all know him!  Everyone, I assume, has a friend named Murphy.  My pal reared his ugly head this week.  You see, I got this asinine idea that I needed to do the Grouse Grind on my birthday.  For those of you not familiar with the Grind, that sucker is a 2.9 kilometre trail up the face of Grouse Mountain commonly referred to as "Mother Nature's Stairmaster"! (part of this insane idea came from just reading the book "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed.  Chick is amazing and powerful.  I, however, am not!)   I have only climbed it once before and it wasn't easy then.  Why the hell I think I can do it now is ridiculous.  If anything I am less fit and am sporting an even larger "party bubble" (in quotes because that is not mine, I stole it from a friend) than last year.  Where is my buddy Murphy?  Well, in light of the fact that I have proclaimed my self "mountain woman' and my money sucking children have decided to come with me, I decide I better not embarrass myself more than usual and start training.  Heck, I have a month, I should be golden.  This is the part where Murph comes a knockin.  Three days into my intensive training (figure of speech, as you probably guessed) I hurt my back.  I did not just hurt the sucker, it's clearly "out" and I cannot sit down for to long without shooting pain and then walking around like the Hunchback!  I suppose the good in this is that I am standing an awful lot and that has to be burning calories.  One would think right?  (or is that offset by the medicinal wine I have been drinking?)  Two lessons learned with this one: next time I  get a wacked out idea to do something exercisy I will talk to someone rational before opening up my big trap and committing AND next year I will go back to my previous years birthday celebrations and go to Coach and buy myself a new birthday bag!

Bulldogs?

This is a delicious Mexican Bulldog



and this ........

 

is a Ghetto Bulldog

 

(Ghetto Bulldog courtesy of Killer's Parents - who I understand do not live in the Ghetto but enjoy the selection of  beverages from that side of the tracks!  For the record and those who don't know - they did not name the boy Killer, totally a nickname, I mean come on people!)

 

Best Season EVER

Anyone who has had a child in sports knows that the best sport seasons are the ones where the parents all get along and have a great time.  Non-sport parents would think the best seasons would have to be when the child's team wins or goes to some fancy playoff thing.  This is absolutely NOT the case.  If you have a bunch of wack-job parents on the team they can absolutely ruin a sport season hands down, whether or not the team is winning or losing.  I have had the misfortune of having to deal with some of said "crazies".  From parents who steal money from other parents and other associations, to bitching out team officials publicly, to losing their pickles because their Johnny isn't regarded as the next "superstar", I have seen almost everything.  A few of us have often joked that when a team is picked it is more important to interview the parents than the kid.  Who cares if the kid isn't the next Sidney Crosby or Gait off spring, if his parents are awesome and like to have a good time - he's in (or she, don't want to be sexist). 

So that leads me to this past LAX season.  Most of us are sorry to see it end.  Not only was the team rocking out the wins and the coaches were amazing but the crazy group of kids all got along so well it was a bit of a shock.  Usually there is one nutty apple in the basket.  Shockingly, not this time.  And the parents?  Well, some of us might have gotten along as well.  Maybe to well actually.  I dare to say a group of us might be going through a little withdrawal right now.  Friday nights are going to be boring for awhile.  It was an interesting lacrosse season for me.  The season started out with flies and lies and ended with beers and giggles.  Sometimes things just have a way of working themselves out, don't they?

Fun With Flying - Or Why Ativan and Alcohol Don't Mix

I make no qualms about my dislike of flying however I have learned a valuable lesson about how to deal with this common fear.  NEVER, and I seriously mean never (that is why the capital letters) tell the people you are travelling with that you hate flying.  On a recent family trip to California I made mention that I was going to be using all my resources to get through all the flights that were coming up (Ativan it is baby!) but did not  anticipate that I was going to be the source of entertainment for the other six members I was with.  The entire time they kept looking at me (well the three youngsters anyway) waiting with bated breath for me to lose my mind and start screaming bloody murder OR to start puking (both of which are extremely probable).  Well, what I did not anticipate was the early holiday celebration at the first airport!  So one Ativan and two beer later, all is well in the world of aviation!  After a short 45 minute flight to the next airport, subsequent celebration needed to occur so one more beer later (at this point I am starting to understand that perhaps prescription drugs and alcohol do not mix.  Just a hint of understanding however.  No earth shattering revelations at this point!) I am gettin on that plane without a hesitation.  I get seated and promptly fall asleep.  Nice.  This is the bomb...... until I wake up, what feels like three hours later, but is only maybe ten minutes only to find we have not even left the freaking airport yet!  Shitttttt.  It was all I could do not to barf the entire flight.  Of course the adult type people I am with are trying their best to be super helpful by talking to me and trying to distract me (all of which provides me with a difficult situation because if I open my mouth to answer, chances are really high I am going to barf up beer!).  We land, go to the baggage claim area and this is when it hits me - it is way better to pick just one - beer OR Ativan - not both!  Oh dear.  I am, at this point, barely able to function and barely hanging on to the control that is needed to get ones luggage, get in a cab, check into a hotel and all that other crap.  I must have maintained my dignity well enough because the holiday crowd seemed to think I was just tired.  Ha ha jokes on you people.  I was wasted!  (or maybe jokes on me because it was NOT good wasted, it was yucky, not riding this buzz, wasted!) 

 

The flight home I skipped the Ativan AND the beer, still felt like puking the whole time, but made it through.  From now on I will just take my little pill and not tell a soul that I am secretly freaking out.  It has however, since occurred to me that I really am not afraid of flying.  I am afraid of DYING.  So there`s that!

And A Back To High School We Go!

Remember back in high school those people who felt compelled to gossip and make up nasty rumors about other students, presumably to make themselves look better or to feel better about themselves?  Leaving a wreckage of hurt feelings and dismal days for their intended victims?  I believe we called them “catty bitches” be it a guy or a girl.  Now I suppose the school yard name is “bully”.  Well I recently found myself involved in a hornets nest of gossip and lies and I have to say I didn’t see it coming.  Mostly because I was not aware that this behaviour happened outside of the school yard and I thought after one passed 30 this kind of immature behaviour was pretty much behind most people.  Well, not so much.  I stressed out about the lies and gossip for about ten minutes before a good friend inadvertently reminded me that there are so many important things in life to spend my energy on.  That realization brought me back to reality in a hurry.  What is my next move?  Will it be to try to “defend” myself or dispel the lies?  Will it be to launch a counter attack of gossipy lies?  No, No and No.  This girl is taking the proverbial high road.  I will not waste my time trying to undo what has been done because at the end of the day I know that the people who are my real friends know me and know the truth.  Will I lose friends because of these lies?  Probably.  My philosophy is that a good friend will come to you and ask if the rumors are true.  A really good friend will know better.   I will not turn around and say bad things about the Catty Bullies who started this mess and continue to keep it rolling.  Why not launch a fair and reasonable rebuttal?  Because right now, whether they realize it or not, the lies they are spreading and growing are hurting children.  I refuse to take part in any kind of trash fest that will eventually filter down and hurt children.  They deserve better.  I don’t care if it is my child, the Catty Bullies child or anyone else’s – kids have enough bullies to deal with now a days they certainly don’t need to have to deal with adult bullies.  It truly saddens me that this has transpired because the perpetrators were once people I liked and admired and although this has opened my eyes to behaviour I have not seen in so very long, I will not go down that road.  This situation has made me re-evaluate what a friend looks like and definitely made me add a few more lines to that character test of friendship.

I suppose it is important to take away a lesson from every situation be it good or bad.  This was a tough one to see in a positive light so here it is - Lesson learned:  Good friends don’t talk about you behind your back and when situations like this arise it's certainly a good time to evaluate the people you surround yourself with.  

My Inadvertent Yoda

It seems over the last few weeks that I have found my own personal Yoda or unpaid psychologist.  She doesn’t realize it but over the last couple of weeks she has provided guidance and support that only years of personal soul searching and therapy could bring.  It has changed my outlook on some of life's situations.  I do admit that I tease her relentlessly about her inability to say no to people and her desire to help every stray that crosses her path, be it human or animal.  Honestly, that is one of her endearing qualities.  She never says no to someone who needs help and never asks for help herself.  No matter what is going on in her life she is always there for her friends to lend a hand or an ear.  In the same breath she has also taught me that there is always a positive way to look at ones personal struggles.  I consider myself truly blessed that she is a part of my life.

Mrs. Lube? (No! It's not dirty or XXX)

One of the things in life I absolutely despise doing is getting an oil change done on my car.  It's not that I don't love my car or want to take car of it.  The problem lies first in that the minute those greese monkeys at Mr. Lube see a chick pull in they start rubbing their hands together like Donald Trump at a real estate sale.  So I pull in and have been identified as an easy mark right from the get go.  If that's not bad enough I then have to endure the most recent graduate of "the school of upselling".  This entails hearing how my car would benefit from a more expensive oil because "the gaskets in your engine are getting old".  Really buddy, what do I look like Paris Hilton, my gaskets would benefit most if you shut your pie hole and just put a couple a bottles of that nice regular oil in the reservoir and I will be in my merry way.  I had the pleasure this trip of being notified that my engine light was on.  Not shit Shirlock, that sucker has been on for months.  So I politely told the university degree greese monkey that yes, indeed the light is on and when I hooked up the scope to the car it informed me I needed to replace my oh two sensor (nicely spelled don't ya think). Well, Mr. Monkey gave me a look like I just told him my car had a second world war land mine hidden in the trunk and didn't ya know he would be able to get me the part for that.  I said it wasn't a problem, I could pick up the part and do it myself (shout out here to UTube!). Well, he says "the engine can get really hot and we have special heat resistance gloves for that job."  I very politely say "Really! Hot!  Well, how bout I just wait for the engine to cool then?"  University monkey realized right then that I was not a commission earning jackpot and had to suddenly "fix his computer" and pawned my oil change off on the Junior Monkey.  Nice.  So I politely tell poor Junior that I just want a regular ole oil change. I will change my own air filter, cabin filter and go to the nearest auto parts store for that pesky oh two sensor.  Really dudes? Some of us ladies know what a piston and a gasket is.  Seriously! 

This post, as you can imagine, will be filed under the ever growing "If I ruled the world" folder (for future reference of course because you never know when THAT job posting is going to come up!)  My recommendations?  How about a Mrs. Lube?  I will happily help with the start up.  First course: "How to talk to a woman with a little respect Jerk Face!"

Gunfight At The House of Sand And Dirt

Yes you read that right. There's gonna be a show down. A gunslinging, name calling, red neck gun fight. Oh ya baby. It's on! Wait... you probably want to know why?? And with whom? Well let me tell ya a little story (like you could stop me!)...

At around 12:30 pm last night almost our entire family was woken up by a loud, very strange noise coming from above us. I say almost all the family because apparently the youngest money sucker was so tired he slept through the entire ordeal, which in hindsight was probably good because he would have ended up wound up like an eight day clock and would never had gotten back to sleep. Anyway, the old fella hopped outta bed to investigate the noise which sounded shockingly like a pack of angry beasts in our attic thumping, chewing and destroying everything in its wake. I, having heard this noise a few other times, didn't bother getting out of bed. What the heck was I going to do anyway? Fret like a girl? No way baby. Last time this noise happened I called the old boy and he assured me it was a crow on the roof. Well lookey here. Pretty sure the old boy was starting to quickly believe me when I said that had to be a two hundred pound crow to make that racket. So the old boy, deciding against sticking his head through the attic hatch, goes outside with the awake money sucker, who was brandishing a very sinister looking hockey stick as his weapon of choice, to find out what kinda nasty beast is trying to tear our roof apart. I meanwhile stayed put for a bit hoping it was roof, fixer elves because if we didn't need a new roof before this adventure we certainly would now! After not hearing any whistle while you work song I decided to half assed join the fun. I got up and opened the bedroom blind only to see an unidentifiable creature streak below the window at a breakneck speed. All I could think was what the hell was that? Speedy the Possum? I was awake now so I went downstairs to see the old fella with a broken axe handle and a flashlight and the hockey stick wielding ninja boy freaking out because there was a extra large, thanks for leaving your garbage bin open every night, raccoon illuminated by the flashlight. The buggar did not even bother to take off. Just gave them the back ally stare down and dared the two of them to come on up and lets see what you can do with those sticks you have in your hands! Hockey ninja decides to take evasive action and grabs a couple of tennis balls and a lacrosse ball. That should do it. Hockey ninja apparently missed his called as a major league baseball player because he hits the sucker right in the face with a ball! What does the wicked masked roof wrecker do? Gives the two of them a dirty look and proceeds, ever so leisurely, to another section of the roof! Like he pays the mortgage and has every right to be up there! Well the unmasked, bedheaded humans will have nothing of it so they proceed to hit the sucker a few more times with balls (alll the while I am walking from window to window trying to figure out what the hell the two of them are doing). Roof wrecker decides he has had enough of this after being hit in the face three times and makes his way off the roof and lumbers over to the neighbours yard.

After the Coon Warriors got back in the old boy and I had a chuckle about our families weapons of choice. An axe handle, a hockey stick and we figure the other two would have a hockey stick and Xbox games to be used as ninja stars. Oh ya, we are a resourceful bunch over here. My weapon? Of course words would never work on this enemy so I would go with the nearest large object or rocket launcher that I have saved up for the summer time fun.

The next morning the old boy does a roof inspection to see how much damage the little buggar managed to do and I go online to order cammo gear and face paint for the family. You gotta be prepared when going into war.

This Coon does not know what he is asking for trying to turn our attic into his own personal Penthouse. You see we have just spent the last two weeks watching back to back to back to back episodes of Duck Dynasty. We my friends have our red neck on!

Yet Another Road Trip

Yes, I am soon to be embarking on yet another sports related road trip. Why do we get ourselves into these situations? I mean come on– it’s hard enough to find good friends you can travel with let alone a bunch of near strangers! Some years we get lucky and have a pack of really great people to road trip with, other years you end up with every cracker jack in the box. This trip should be interesting, to say the least. There is a group of people attending that will be fun to spend wayyy to much time with. There also is a group of people we could respectfully call “quirky”. One can only hope that, once the bevy’s start flowing, that maturity filters stay in place and the truth remains unspoken, mostly because the truth in this case is ugly. Not showered, wearing yesterdays dirty clothing, ugly.

Why You Should Never Get Into a Pissing Match With a Crazy Person

 

Well, obviously, to start off, getting into a verbal or written pissing match with a crazy person is like hitting yourself over the head with a hammer repeatedly and wondering why the pain won’t go away. Until recently, I had assumed that all humans had just a teeny bit of common sense and respect. I WAS WRONG! Oh boy, was I wrong. You see, I recently had the misfortune of engaging in a written bitch fest with a person who shall be forever, in my mind, called: BatShitCrazy. Ms. BatShit figured it was her right to verbally abuse a volunteer and send this abuse out globally. Yes, to everyone. I figured her motive in doing this was to garner support for her “opinion” and possibly start a little bitch riot. What she got however, was a large number of people who were amazed at her disgusting display of disrespect. This was not the first time BatShitCrazy went on a written attack. This time however, I decided I had had enough. Someone needed to point out to her that she was crossing a line and entering into the realm of people who have no regard for others feelings or respect for others. So I eloquently told her so. To which I received a reply that I can only say was written by someone who needs to have their mood altering medication checked by a doctor every six months. I was shocked (as were others). What level of crazy do you have to be NOT to understand that you are wrong and your actions are hurtful? I figure when it is pointed out to a person that they have been acting disrespectfully the last thing most people do is try to justify their actions! Don’t get me wrong here, I don’t regret getting into this particular pissing match, mostly because there did not appear to be a single person around who was willing to point out to BatShitCrazy that she was being a bitch and no one seemed to want to stand up for the victim, even though many people wanted to talk about how wrong the written verbal abuse was (sort of now figuring out why no one want to engage in this particular match, with this particular person). I figure BatShitCrazy will just continue going about her business attacking people until someone has the balls to stand up and tell her she is wrong.

Lesson learned: You cannot reason with crazy people, but it is sure the hell is entertaining trying!

There Has Got To Be A Way To Shut This Sh*t Up

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have a bit of an overactive imagination. One would think that this would be a great thing – and trust me, if I made a million dollars off this mental deformity, it would be all good. Million dollar paycheque not withstanding, my case of imagination overdrive has always been a bit of a hindrance. At any given time my brain has had six cups of expresso, two Red Bulls and a shot of speed and to make matters worse there is NO off switch. I wake up at all hours of the night, at least 6 to 12 times a night, with two thousand thoughts running through the old neuron holder BEFORE I have even opened my damn eyes to check the time. Add a few stressors to the regular stream and I become the proud owner of a couple of Samsonites under my eyes in the morning! I constantly look like I got punched in the face! Don't even get me started on "sleep medication". That stuff is just crap. The stuff the doctor hands out leaves you with a hangover that rivals the morning after a decent frat party (and hey, if I am going to be sporting a hangover it certainly is NOT going to be from sleep aids!), the over the counter stuff is a bigger load of crap because really - they claim its NOT addictive? Seriously, tell that to someone with insomnia. You think they are not going to become addicted to something that will help them get to sleep? Really people? I would rather just be tired than have to look for a Sleep Medication Dealer in the back of the local pharmacy. Meditation looked to be a good alternative for a while until I ended up in a schizophrenic smackdown between my Zen self and my NotsoZen self. Probably the only time I can say I have argued with myself. In case you were wondering, NotsoZen self won that war. Like I said. NO off switch. It would be so much better, of course, if even a couple of the thoughts were brilliant, then I wouldn't be so pissed about losing so much sleep! Waaiiiitttt a minute! Should I be checking the big ole book of psychological disorders? Holy Hannah - I might just be onto something........ (maybe two things - that could be one brilliant thought!)

My Un-Inspiration and A Brief Reminder About Public Transit

Yes, a few of you have mentioned my apparent lack of sarcasm lately.  It really is a combination of extreme hibernation and utter lack of inspiration.  Usually the smallest things make me grab some kind of writing implement to write about but the last month I have not been compelled to see the humor in things.  Normally when un-inspiration hits I go into my “posts for editing” or “things that piss me off” folder and I have some story to share but not so much lately.  It is seriously time to shake things up.  (I might want to mention here that you all have not been sharing your most embarrassing moments for me to post as well, so its partially your fault to!).  For now I give you this little service reminder:

Why (Again) You Should NEVER Take Public Transit

So I finally let the people at work know that I am none to impressed with having to get on any form of public transit and, if necessary, I must be given at least two days notice before they expect me to get on any germ infested, smelly death trap known as a public bus or train.  I have deftly explained that I must be prepared for said travel and if not given proper prep time, will undoubtedly have to take some “stress” leave to recover from any unprepared, unplanned trip.  So in order to avoid the need for meds, my manager gave me two weeks notice that she would like me to attend a meeting at her office.  Nice work.  Travel prep begins.  First and foremost I pretend I do not even have to take the train for the first week, hoping there might be some kind of natural disaster that happens therefore nullifying the whole need for travel in the first place.  Natural disaster did not pan out so I had to move onto phase 2.  This next stage of planning has me researching the route on line, finding out how much exact change I will need to get on the train and pre-planning the cross shoulder purse, flat shoes (for the get away) and small, undisclosed weapons.  Four days before I had the wherewithal to ask my manager about the forthcoming trip whereupon she informed me that I needed to get off the train and get onto ANOTHER train mid way through! (I am figuring this could be why she gave me two weeks notice.  I mean really?  Two trains?  That’s a bit much don’t ya think?)  So I write out careful directions about where to get off the first train, where to get on the second train and where the heck to get off to attend this meeting. 

The morning arrives and I am prepared.  Of course there are things you can never plan for, like people who SMELL and little gangster wannabes who, with their hats pushed sideways, tattoos, earrings and jeans with the crotch down to their knees, talk on their phones like the are all that and a slice of bread, not to mention the odd few who get on the train who look like they haven’t showered in over two weeks and are all shifty eyed and stuff (my manager was clearly lying when she said most of the people on the train were going to be students.  Really, why does that student have a plastic bag with all his worldly possessions and look like he hasn’t shaved in two years?)  I did however get a very huge reminder about why I hate transit:  RUDE PEOPLE!  I am still amazed at how rude people can be.  At least the only rude person is my car is ME!