Well, I think someone is really watching over me. For those who know me, you are aware that I have a ridiculous fear of birds. I know it is irrational. However, all fear is irrational so it really amounts to nothing out of the ordinary.
Imagine stepping outside of your office building and stopping to pop your earbuds in so you can listen to music on the walk home. Just as I was about to turn my MP3 player on, someone called out to me. I turned around and took a half step forward. That's when it happened - without warning. A giant pidgeon -humungous - honestly the biggest damn bird I had ever seen, fell dead from the sky and landed right where I had been standing. Well, I think I wet myself as I ran screaming back into the building. I almost died right there. A half second and the thing would have hit me right in the head. Ya'll would then either be attending my funeral - possibly the hit itself would have killed me - or you would be visiting me in the psych ward were I would have been having a mental breakdown at getting hit with a dead bird. As it was I had nightmares that night about dead birds falling from the sky.
It was quiet. Not at all like I might have expected. I think I watched too much Road Runner and Wyle E. Coyote as a kid. I would have thought there would be that whistling sound of falling - nothing but silence and then thud (maybe splat). Well, as I dragged myself into work the next morning after little sleep (remember the nightmares), I was thinking about what had happend and the odds of it ever happening again. I decided not to take any chances and I would make an effort to always stand under an overhang just in case. Mid-morning, I decided to take a break and went across the street to pick up some fruit and a bagel and sit on the bench on the back balcony of the building for a bit. I'll be damned. I was putting my bagel in my mouth and looking up to enjoy a lonely patch of sunshine when wham - down came a second bird. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING AGAIN! I almost chocked on the bread, left my seat and screamed loud enough that the next group of people coming out the door looked incredibly startled. I ran past them and made my way to the elevator on the way to the washroom to see if I actually crapped my drawers. I like to think someone was watching over me that allowed me to be just out of the way when both incidences happend. I think it was my mother. The reason I think it was Mother is that I didn't actually have an accident. That would never do. Ladies do not crap their drawers in public. That can only happen in the privacy of your own home when no one else is around.
On another note, while we have been having superbly crappy weather so far this spring, I do love this time of year. The flowers are coming out. People are in better moods (well, the rain is making that a little difficult) and the street entertainers are coming out in full force. This past week I came out of the office and was startled to almost bump into 10 foot tall man in full kilt and bagpipes. He was on stilts that were made up to look like horses hooves. When I looked up he also had horns on his head and I realized he was dressed as the mythical Pan. Although I seem to recall Pan playing the flute. Across the street from him was a man dressed entirely in silver - from head to toe and wearing hockey skates and holding a hockey stick. He had a can out where he was taking a minimum $5 donation to have your picture taken with him. He had quite a crowd of people waiting for the opportunity. I have to admire the initiative and be in awe of those folks who are willing to pay for a silly picture.
I am also thinking of putting out a missing persons report. I have not seen skinny white rapper boys in a while. Maybe their duelling rapping took a turn for the worse and they knocked each other out.
I can hardly wait until the weather warms up and we can see who else shows up on the street.
Well, I am off to Toronto on Monday for the week. I will update ya'll when I get back. I am not sure those folks back east can compare to the rich street life we have out here.
Stay tuned.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Too Much of Woman
He is tall, good looking with salt and pepper hair and deep blue eyes. He likes to ride his bike, read a good novel, travel and spend time with his family. Oddly, he sounds just like me (well minus the height thing and the hair). He is funny and appeared to be intellegent (appearances can be deceiving). His name is Rick
We met for coffee in the afternoon and 25 minutes later..............
"I am thinking that perhaps you are not what I am looking for. You appear to be too successful for me. I am looking for someone who needs me, that I can take care of."
Translation - I am a big woosy and you can probably beat the crap out of me. OR - I am afraid of competent women and need to be the one in the position of power because I have no self-esteem and am suffering from low testosterone levels.
Oy Vey! What the heck. I didn't like him anyway. Rarely do I find it appealing when I have more testosterone than my date. I hate having to protect my boyfriend from harm as he hides behind my skirt. However, never say never. Having never experienced that before, who knows, maybe I would like it. I came close once though - first husband but that's a story for another day.
Is there something in the water that I don't know about? Does it have to do with the fact that I now have to shave, pluck or laser chin hairs now? I really thought that men appreciated successful women. And who even said I was successful? If he had stuck around longer he might have discovered that I am hanging on by a thread. Most days I have to dress twice since I usually forget something. Some days I even forget where I am supposed to be. If I remember to wear two of the same socks, I know it will be a good day.
Things were put into perspective for me this morning. I was visiting my doctor for an early morning check-up. I told him I give up. I am totally prepared to never date again. He looked at me for a minute and said "you still have a shot. Your problem will come when you have to wear a catheter bag. That will make dating difficult." My head snapped back so quickly I knocked it against the wall and the picture fell down. I demanded to know what he meant by that. Was he saying I was going to have to wear a bag around? Actually, turns out he was just pointing out things could be worse. Remember, my Doc is a funny man.
Well, since I am perfectly happy in my life, this is not devestating news to me. I am prepared to live with a house full of cats and rocking chairs. Doesn't mean I have given up. I will continue with my social expermentation. Wonder if I can get a grant for my research. That would be cool. I would date with a clip board asking all sorts of personal questions such as "Do you dress left or right?"
Anyway, have a very full weekend planned - 2 lacrosse games and a brunch!
Stay tuned.
We met for coffee in the afternoon and 25 minutes later..............
"I am thinking that perhaps you are not what I am looking for. You appear to be too successful for me. I am looking for someone who needs me, that I can take care of."
Translation - I am a big woosy and you can probably beat the crap out of me. OR - I am afraid of competent women and need to be the one in the position of power because I have no self-esteem and am suffering from low testosterone levels.
Oy Vey! What the heck. I didn't like him anyway. Rarely do I find it appealing when I have more testosterone than my date. I hate having to protect my boyfriend from harm as he hides behind my skirt. However, never say never. Having never experienced that before, who knows, maybe I would like it. I came close once though - first husband but that's a story for another day.
Is there something in the water that I don't know about? Does it have to do with the fact that I now have to shave, pluck or laser chin hairs now? I really thought that men appreciated successful women. And who even said I was successful? If he had stuck around longer he might have discovered that I am hanging on by a thread. Most days I have to dress twice since I usually forget something. Some days I even forget where I am supposed to be. If I remember to wear two of the same socks, I know it will be a good day.
Things were put into perspective for me this morning. I was visiting my doctor for an early morning check-up. I told him I give up. I am totally prepared to never date again. He looked at me for a minute and said "you still have a shot. Your problem will come when you have to wear a catheter bag. That will make dating difficult." My head snapped back so quickly I knocked it against the wall and the picture fell down. I demanded to know what he meant by that. Was he saying I was going to have to wear a bag around? Actually, turns out he was just pointing out things could be worse. Remember, my Doc is a funny man.
Well, since I am perfectly happy in my life, this is not devestating news to me. I am prepared to live with a house full of cats and rocking chairs. Doesn't mean I have given up. I will continue with my social expermentation. Wonder if I can get a grant for my research. That would be cool. I would date with a clip board asking all sorts of personal questions such as "Do you dress left or right?"
Anyway, have a very full weekend planned - 2 lacrosse games and a brunch!
Stay tuned.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Happy Mothers Day!
Here are the rules for holidays in my house:
1) Mothers Day
2) My Birthday
3) Christmas
It's just the way it is. I love Mother's day. I must admit I loved them more when my children were young but I still enjoy the day. I miss those early days when I got served Rice Krispies with green Kool-Aid because we were out of milk. I miss that lunch time salad made with bits of cut up hot dog because the girls were creative and they remembered when I said my mother used to cut up hot dogs in macaroni. They figured I must love them. The one morning when I had my eyelid pealed back by an excited child because they thought I was sleeping too long and it was only 5am.
Today I spent the day with my oldest daughter and her family at my grandsons lacrosse game. It was the final game in his first tournament. It was wonderful and I had a great time (they lost 6-5 at the last minute and brought home a silver). My oldest granddaughter presented me with a mothers day gift as well. She very proudly gave me pieces of a puzzle and a small soccer ball she found. It was ok the puzzle was missing pieces because as she explained, that made it harder to do and would keep me busy for a long time. The soccer ball was a gift because she had another one. It was very sweet and gave me flash backs to those earlier days.
By tradition, I do nothing on Mothers Day. I do not cook, do dishes, pick up laundry or even wipe down a counter. This was a lot easier to do when the girls were little as they did it for me. However, since I now live with a brother who behaves this way on a daily basis, it made for an interesting time. It took an amazing strength of character for me to ignore the dishes, the sticky counter and the mess in the hallway. However, since I am a person of strength, I did manage to step over the mess, walk away from the kitchen and hide out in my room giving myself a manicure and watching Murphy Brown re-runs on my computer. I will pay for this tomorrow but it doesn't matter - the tradition stands!
I also discovered something today as I stood in the stands yelling and cheering on my grandson. I got so excited at one point I jumped right up, forgetting my youngest granddaughter was on my lap, and dropped her on the floor. Anyway, as I drove away from my family, I discovered I really and truly missed those days of driving home with my children after a softball, basketball, volleyball game or dance recital reliving the event and excitedly discussing the high points. I wished I had had more children. Not a whole baseball teams worth, but one or two more.
This rather surprised me. If someone asked me 15 years ago if I would have wanted more children I would have laughed maniacally. I guess you really do mellow with age and remember things in a different light -the terrible twos that lasted 15 years, the teenage hormones running amok, the worry over late nights, driving and boyfriends are forgotten.
\
I began to wonder if there was a way they could reverse my hysterectomy and if it was too late to have just one more. I awoke from my stupor with a start - took two aspirins when I got home and now I feel much better!
I have a busy week ahead of me. I have another blind date on Thursday afternoon for coffee. I will keep you posted.
stay tuned
1) Mothers Day
2) My Birthday
3) Christmas
It's just the way it is. I love Mother's day. I must admit I loved them more when my children were young but I still enjoy the day. I miss those early days when I got served Rice Krispies with green Kool-Aid because we were out of milk. I miss that lunch time salad made with bits of cut up hot dog because the girls were creative and they remembered when I said my mother used to cut up hot dogs in macaroni. They figured I must love them. The one morning when I had my eyelid pealed back by an excited child because they thought I was sleeping too long and it was only 5am.
Today I spent the day with my oldest daughter and her family at my grandsons lacrosse game. It was the final game in his first tournament. It was wonderful and I had a great time (they lost 6-5 at the last minute and brought home a silver). My oldest granddaughter presented me with a mothers day gift as well. She very proudly gave me pieces of a puzzle and a small soccer ball she found. It was ok the puzzle was missing pieces because as she explained, that made it harder to do and would keep me busy for a long time. The soccer ball was a gift because she had another one. It was very sweet and gave me flash backs to those earlier days.
By tradition, I do nothing on Mothers Day. I do not cook, do dishes, pick up laundry or even wipe down a counter. This was a lot easier to do when the girls were little as they did it for me. However, since I now live with a brother who behaves this way on a daily basis, it made for an interesting time. It took an amazing strength of character for me to ignore the dishes, the sticky counter and the mess in the hallway. However, since I am a person of strength, I did manage to step over the mess, walk away from the kitchen and hide out in my room giving myself a manicure and watching Murphy Brown re-runs on my computer. I will pay for this tomorrow but it doesn't matter - the tradition stands!
I also discovered something today as I stood in the stands yelling and cheering on my grandson. I got so excited at one point I jumped right up, forgetting my youngest granddaughter was on my lap, and dropped her on the floor. Anyway, as I drove away from my family, I discovered I really and truly missed those days of driving home with my children after a softball, basketball, volleyball game or dance recital reliving the event and excitedly discussing the high points. I wished I had had more children. Not a whole baseball teams worth, but one or two more.
This rather surprised me. If someone asked me 15 years ago if I would have wanted more children I would have laughed maniacally. I guess you really do mellow with age and remember things in a different light -the terrible twos that lasted 15 years, the teenage hormones running amok, the worry over late nights, driving and boyfriends are forgotten.
\
I began to wonder if there was a way they could reverse my hysterectomy and if it was too late to have just one more. I awoke from my stupor with a start - took two aspirins when I got home and now I feel much better!
I have a busy week ahead of me. I have another blind date on Thursday afternoon for coffee. I will keep you posted.
stay tuned
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Crap on a piece of toast
I went to sleep last night feeling deeply disappointed. I was upset that only 60% of our voting population took the time to get out and vote and that of that 60% - 40% of them voted as they did. If you do not participate you do not have a right to complain. On the upside, can't wait to see how a former waitress who didn't even campaign (went to Vegas instead) is going to function in parliment. Hope she bought some new clothes at that fabulous outlet mall in Vegas.
Other crap - my cake decorating classes ended and other than gaining 10 pounds, I am not sure I really learned anything that will help me in decorating fabulous cakes for the grandkids. Turns out that while I learned what each of the tips in my kit are used for, I have no imagination or real talent for decorating. While I managed to make 55 cupcakes for my wee granddaughters Easter birthday party, some of them looked like something they could make themselves. They did taste ok though. My son-in-law must have gained the most weight during my classes. He ate two of my homework cakes and a good portion of the cupcakes. I don't think he really cared what they looked like - more of how they tasted and for that I am grateful to Betty Crocker and her "Moist Devils Food Cake" mixes.
On Saturday I attended my grandson, Xavier's lacrosse game. I really have no idea what came over me (might have been the sugar high from that last cake) but I turned into someone with no sense of shame and a real lust for blood. I remember yelling and cheering for my children during their sporting events but they were never in real contact sports. I found myself jumping up and down urging him to "take him out/down and hit him, hit him, for God's sake hit him hard and take him out". There was a mom sitting on the bench beside me who said she thought I was the "nice Nana". Ha!
After the game, Xavier came out all sweaty and happy and said he could hear me across the arena. I asked if I embarrassed him (a bonus) and he said "it was ok as long as I didn't use his name." I think that counts as embarrassment. That was a plus. I think it is in my grandma contract to "love, spoil and embarrass at all appropriate opportunities."
I am going back online this weekend with new pictures and a full of bull bio. My social experiment is about to begin again. I decided it was time. Enough of my hair has grown out now that I kind of like it again. I will not have to hide from the camera. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I did not look quite as dorky as I thought when a gentleman in line at the Bay started talking to me and told me I looked attractive and he liked my hair and my shoes. So what if he is gay? It still counts as a compliment. I think I even blushed.
Well, off to pack for a road trip to the island.
Stay tuned
Other crap - my cake decorating classes ended and other than gaining 10 pounds, I am not sure I really learned anything that will help me in decorating fabulous cakes for the grandkids. Turns out that while I learned what each of the tips in my kit are used for, I have no imagination or real talent for decorating. While I managed to make 55 cupcakes for my wee granddaughters Easter birthday party, some of them looked like something they could make themselves. They did taste ok though. My son-in-law must have gained the most weight during my classes. He ate two of my homework cakes and a good portion of the cupcakes. I don't think he really cared what they looked like - more of how they tasted and for that I am grateful to Betty Crocker and her "Moist Devils Food Cake" mixes.
On Saturday I attended my grandson, Xavier's lacrosse game. I really have no idea what came over me (might have been the sugar high from that last cake) but I turned into someone with no sense of shame and a real lust for blood. I remember yelling and cheering for my children during their sporting events but they were never in real contact sports. I found myself jumping up and down urging him to "take him out/down and hit him, hit him, for God's sake hit him hard and take him out". There was a mom sitting on the bench beside me who said she thought I was the "nice Nana". Ha!
After the game, Xavier came out all sweaty and happy and said he could hear me across the arena. I asked if I embarrassed him (a bonus) and he said "it was ok as long as I didn't use his name." I think that counts as embarrassment. That was a plus. I think it is in my grandma contract to "love, spoil and embarrass at all appropriate opportunities."
I am going back online this weekend with new pictures and a full of bull bio. My social experiment is about to begin again. I decided it was time. Enough of my hair has grown out now that I kind of like it again. I will not have to hide from the camera. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I did not look quite as dorky as I thought when a gentleman in line at the Bay started talking to me and told me I looked attractive and he liked my hair and my shoes. So what if he is gay? It still counts as a compliment. I think I even blushed.
Well, off to pack for a road trip to the island.
Stay tuned
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