So it seems my daughter likes my blog postings but thinks they might be a tad depressing. She wants me to write more uplifting articles.
So my darling, this one is for you. It is enought to make an old lady proud and put a smile on a nannagramma's lips. However, children of said old lady might be a tad uncomfortable.
I recieved a message from a delightful man (barely) last week. He thinks I am beautiful with a wonderful smile and gorgeous eyes. During our many email exchanges, he has discovered not only am I all those other things but I am smart, funny and articulate with a great 'sense of self''.
I will describe this man as not only incredibly intelligent (see above for confirmation) but funny, sweet and OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! talk about gorgeous! He is like dessert on a stick. Like that extra piece of cheesecake that you discover contains no calories at all.
He is 31 years old. But I don't care. He lives in Arizona. I don't care. I have an Aunt who is currently in Palm Springs - just a short hop away. This fella is so yummy, I think I will have to ask her to pop on over a State and check him out. If he checks out for her, and she doesn't keep him for herself, I will ask her to shove him in the trunk of her car and head for the border.
I have a feeling my child will not be quite so happy when my "uplifting" story ends with me introducing her to her new daddy - who is a year younger than she is. On the upside, he will most likely outlive me which will alliviate her from having to care for me in my old age. The issue of inheritance will also be moot. Chances are really good that I will have to spend everything I have on upkeep to try to keep up with a hubby almost 20 years younger. This will be the start of annual facelifts, tummy tucks, butt lifts and the like. I guess I will even have to address that pesky COOPERS DROOP. Wonder how much that costs.
I also wonder how I will be as someones 'Mrs. Robinson'. I am not really comfortable in the teaching position. I tend to just want to get the job done and not waste time explaining things. I have a feeling I might get bored - after a year or two. I imagine that once we stop talking about how gorgeous he is and how wonderful I am, we might not have a whole lot left to discuss.
So, how is that for uplifiting? He has been a boost to a sagging ego during a week when I have been contacted by 1) a man who finally conceeded that he and his wife are more like roommates and therefore its ok for him to have a girlfriend and 2) a pervert who just wants an 'intimate encounter' with a gorgeous blonde and 3) an idiot - no more need be said.
A friend of mine is taking me out to a gay bar on Saturday night - first time ever. She says we can dance and have fun without having to worry about being annoyed. I have no idea what one wears to a gay bar but I have a feeling that no matter what I chose, they will be better dressed than me. Oh well, I am looking forward to it and will of course, keep you updated on my experience.
Stay tuned
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
I am Traumatized
I got a haircut yesterday. A deep and disturbing haircut. I am now traumatized.
Those of you who knew me in my childhood will have fond memories of the many pixi and bowl cuts that my Mother was fond of giving me. By virtue of her having a couple of brothers who were hair stylists, the talent to cut her own children's hair was inherent. Until I reached the age of about 10 or so, this was common practise in our kitchen at least once every couple of months. I would like to say I remember those days with fondness. I would LIKE to say that but I cannot.
You should know, my Mother was not the only one to inflict traumatization upon my young head. I was either 10 or 11 when I was taken to my Uncle's hair salon for a new cut. I told him very clearly " I want to look like a girl." He promised me that when he was done, I would look like a pretty little girl. At the end of the cut, he spun me around in the chair and told me how pretty I was. (You should know, I had no other cousins who were girls at this point so his point of reference might be called into question). I was happy. Then in happened. His first client in after my cut took a look at me and said " Oh D (name protected), is this your nephew?" It cost him an ice cream cone and a toy to shut me up. However, you may notice, neither really worked as 40 years later I am still traumatized.
I told you the above in order to set in context the understand that I hold dear with respect to my hair. Back to yesterday's haircut. I might actually have to take some blame here. I might have been a little wishy washy without giving clear direction when I said "I need some shape, with a trim. You can take an inch or so off at the back as I still need to be able to put it in a ponytail." After a night to sleep on it, I understand that this could have been taken as "please cut it all off so that I may relive my childhood pixi cuts."
People were kind today. They either said nothing at all or a I got a polite smile coupled with "you look cute - and besides, its only hair. It will grow back."
I am going to start keeping a bottle of booze in my bottom desk drawer with a bendy straw for sipping.
On the upside, I feel that now with this haircut coupled with my newly discovered mustache - many of my dating issues will be moot. Since I will conceivably be confused for a male, chances are pretty good I will be off the market for a while - at least until this grows out.
As soon as I get out hair-therapy, I will catch you up on things
Those of you who knew me in my childhood will have fond memories of the many pixi and bowl cuts that my Mother was fond of giving me. By virtue of her having a couple of brothers who were hair stylists, the talent to cut her own children's hair was inherent. Until I reached the age of about 10 or so, this was common practise in our kitchen at least once every couple of months. I would like to say I remember those days with fondness. I would LIKE to say that but I cannot.
You should know, my Mother was not the only one to inflict traumatization upon my young head. I was either 10 or 11 when I was taken to my Uncle's hair salon for a new cut. I told him very clearly " I want to look like a girl." He promised me that when he was done, I would look like a pretty little girl. At the end of the cut, he spun me around in the chair and told me how pretty I was. (You should know, I had no other cousins who were girls at this point so his point of reference might be called into question). I was happy. Then in happened. His first client in after my cut took a look at me and said " Oh D (name protected), is this your nephew?" It cost him an ice cream cone and a toy to shut me up. However, you may notice, neither really worked as 40 years later I am still traumatized.
I told you the above in order to set in context the understand that I hold dear with respect to my hair. Back to yesterday's haircut. I might actually have to take some blame here. I might have been a little wishy washy without giving clear direction when I said "I need some shape, with a trim. You can take an inch or so off at the back as I still need to be able to put it in a ponytail." After a night to sleep on it, I understand that this could have been taken as "please cut it all off so that I may relive my childhood pixi cuts."
People were kind today. They either said nothing at all or a I got a polite smile coupled with "you look cute - and besides, its only hair. It will grow back."
I am going to start keeping a bottle of booze in my bottom desk drawer with a bendy straw for sipping.
On the upside, I feel that now with this haircut coupled with my newly discovered mustache - many of my dating issues will be moot. Since I will conceivably be confused for a male, chances are pretty good I will be off the market for a while - at least until this grows out.
As soon as I get out hair-therapy, I will catch you up on things
Monday, January 31, 2011
What is wrong with this picture????
I can't decide whether or not this new "catch" is the victim of a horrid woman who treated him badly or just another fool who requires an idiot vaccination before he is let loose in the dating pond.
So, let me set this up. We connected on line about 3 weeks ago. After numerous emails and instant messaging, I agreed to call him. It seems he hid his idiocy well online - OR, I am still learning - and not very fast I might add - what questions to ask and I am not asking the right ones.
The conversation started off in the usual way - what do you do for fun, where do you like to go, where have you travelled, yada, yada, yada. After about 15 minutes of pretty inoccuous chatter, he comes out with what he wants in finding a partner. Ya'll better sit down for this part (I had to sit before I fell over).
"Well, Holly, I am looking for a girlfriend who will eventually become my wife because I am lonely. This is the 3rd time I have been on this site and I want you to be my last. The first one didn't work out because she wouldn't check in with me and I never knew where she was (is he kidding me?). The 2nd one didn't like me very much. Not sure why since its not like I asked for sex every night-just everytime we met (jeez...idiot o'meter on high alert). I expect my girlfriend to always stay in touch and plan to meet me at least once per week. I need to know where you are at all times or I will wonder if you are being faithful. Everyone knows that the only way to maintain faithfulness is to ensure the man can keep tabs on his woman. So, when can we meet? I would like it to be this weekend so if you would please make arrangements to be in Coquitlam on Saturday, that would be best."
Obviously, he has not taken advantage of our excellent mental health programs. When I replied that he was looking for something different than what I am, he seemed to get quite agitated. It seems I didn't understand him properly and am already betraying him. Holy crap- can I pick em or what?
You know - I am really beginning to think that I am really the one with the problem. I don't seem to be able to pinpoint the idiots at first glance or even the 3rd glance. While I am a freak magnet, I think I actually make things worse because I am not even close to understanding what I am doing. What do I want in a partner? I thought it was really quite simple. I just want someone to share things with who won't want to hang around 24/7. Someone who buys dinner once in a while would be nice too. If he is a good travel companion, that would be a bonus. But if some guy expects me to check in and let him know where I am at all times then he is obviously low on his Prozac. I don't take direction very well. If someone tells me I cannot order a cocktail before 5pm, I find the need to order a Screwdriver at noon - even though I don't really drink. Spite, you might say. Tell me to do something and I feel a ridiculous need to do the opposite - including cutting off my nose to spite my face.
I think I need to set up a dating partner. More perhaps like a dating coach. Someone to tell me what to type online, say on the phone and go with me on those first meetings. This coach would be expected to draw out the 'stupid' before I get hit with it. Considering my record to date, some of the stupid must be rubbing off on me. It's probably in all my clothes and hair by now. Washing stupid out of your hair can't be easy. I need this person to tell me what I am doing wrong. I thought I was being up front, clear and concise. Maybe I am speaking the wrong language. Anyone who is willing to take this task on, please let me know.
On another note, I am meeting up with my ideal date on Saturday. Once he finishes his soccer game, he has agreed to come to my place and help me fix my living room. He wants to pick out furniture for him to have when he gets his own place. The boy thinks ahead. He is 8 years old but understands he needs to plan ahead and why not go shopping at Nannagramma's house? His mother and aunt did.
will keep you posted.
So, let me set this up. We connected on line about 3 weeks ago. After numerous emails and instant messaging, I agreed to call him. It seems he hid his idiocy well online - OR, I am still learning - and not very fast I might add - what questions to ask and I am not asking the right ones.
The conversation started off in the usual way - what do you do for fun, where do you like to go, where have you travelled, yada, yada, yada. After about 15 minutes of pretty inoccuous chatter, he comes out with what he wants in finding a partner. Ya'll better sit down for this part (I had to sit before I fell over).
"Well, Holly, I am looking for a girlfriend who will eventually become my wife because I am lonely. This is the 3rd time I have been on this site and I want you to be my last. The first one didn't work out because she wouldn't check in with me and I never knew where she was (is he kidding me?). The 2nd one didn't like me very much. Not sure why since its not like I asked for sex every night-just everytime we met (jeez...idiot o'meter on high alert). I expect my girlfriend to always stay in touch and plan to meet me at least once per week. I need to know where you are at all times or I will wonder if you are being faithful. Everyone knows that the only way to maintain faithfulness is to ensure the man can keep tabs on his woman. So, when can we meet? I would like it to be this weekend so if you would please make arrangements to be in Coquitlam on Saturday, that would be best."
Obviously, he has not taken advantage of our excellent mental health programs. When I replied that he was looking for something different than what I am, he seemed to get quite agitated. It seems I didn't understand him properly and am already betraying him. Holy crap- can I pick em or what?
You know - I am really beginning to think that I am really the one with the problem. I don't seem to be able to pinpoint the idiots at first glance or even the 3rd glance. While I am a freak magnet, I think I actually make things worse because I am not even close to understanding what I am doing. What do I want in a partner? I thought it was really quite simple. I just want someone to share things with who won't want to hang around 24/7. Someone who buys dinner once in a while would be nice too. If he is a good travel companion, that would be a bonus. But if some guy expects me to check in and let him know where I am at all times then he is obviously low on his Prozac. I don't take direction very well. If someone tells me I cannot order a cocktail before 5pm, I find the need to order a Screwdriver at noon - even though I don't really drink. Spite, you might say. Tell me to do something and I feel a ridiculous need to do the opposite - including cutting off my nose to spite my face.
I think I need to set up a dating partner. More perhaps like a dating coach. Someone to tell me what to type online, say on the phone and go with me on those first meetings. This coach would be expected to draw out the 'stupid' before I get hit with it. Considering my record to date, some of the stupid must be rubbing off on me. It's probably in all my clothes and hair by now. Washing stupid out of your hair can't be easy. I need this person to tell me what I am doing wrong. I thought I was being up front, clear and concise. Maybe I am speaking the wrong language. Anyone who is willing to take this task on, please let me know.
On another note, I am meeting up with my ideal date on Saturday. Once he finishes his soccer game, he has agreed to come to my place and help me fix my living room. He wants to pick out furniture for him to have when he gets his own place. The boy thinks ahead. He is 8 years old but understands he needs to plan ahead and why not go shopping at Nannagramma's house? His mother and aunt did.
will keep you posted.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
I have an affliction
And it is called "Coopers Droop". Personally I think my doctor just made it up as he has no sense of humour and he tends to hold a grduge.
A few years ago it seems I embarrassed him and he has been holding it against me ever since. His nurse said I was the only one who succeeded in making him blush.
Dad, if you are reading this, cover your eyes for the next little bit.
So, as all my women friends are familiar with, when we go for a physical we are subjected to some embarrassing and compromising situations. It was a cold, winter afternoon and I was tired and a little jittery as I was shown to my paper gown and the metal impersonal stirrups. Since I had been going through this procedure for 27 years with this man I felt that we had developed a special relationship. The worse part of the whole ordeal is that you lay there while this man is intimately examining you and no one is speaking. You don't have anywhere to look but the ceiling as he has his headlight on and he is intent on some exporation in your nether regions. It is very clinical indeed. I decided I had had enough of this. So, when the inevitable question came up " when was the last time you had sexual intercourse?" I answered honestly "I'm having it now. Is it good for you because I sure could use a smoke." Well, his headlight snapped off and he stood up told me I could get dressed and left the room. I could hear Mary (his nurse) laughing outside the door.
Ever since that incident, he seems to go out of his way trying to get back at me. He came up with the best so far during my exam this week.
After the usual breast exam he told me he found a problem. He asked if I was dating anyone. When I asked why he said I should be aware of what age has done to me and that I need to be careful. He had my full attention. He said I needed to make sure I invested in a really good support bra. I was now sitting on the edge of my seat thinking the worse. "I am sure given your personality that you won't be terribly embarrassed by this but if you ever get intimate again with a new man, you will want to explain your affliction with clarity. I hate to tell you this Holly, but you have a condition called Coopers Droop." OMG!!!!! Was he kidding? What is that? What's wrong with me? "As you have aged Holly, the ligiments in your breasts have pulled (in other words gravity has taken over) in a downward position. It is known as Coopers Droop." Great - there is a name for it. I swear he had a huge smile on his face as he was telling me. AND THEN - he caps it with "So, I see you are turning 50 this year. You are actually a little young for Coopers. Oh well, too bad since it only getrs worse with age. Enjoy the rest of your night and see you in 2 weeks." NICE. See what I mean? He holds a grudge over one little incident and has no sense of humour. I am going to have to think about this. Lets see how the next visit goes. We'll see whose laughing then.
Sadly, this was the highlght of my week. I have a date tomorrow but I may cancel in order to go buy a bra.
Sunday will find me picking up the wee grandkids and taking them with the toys they have saved to Children's hospital. Afterwards we will hit a movie theatre and stuff oursevles with popcorn before returning them home. They are my new best friends. They don't care that I have this horrible affliction.
I need a new hobby.
Stay tuned.
A few years ago it seems I embarrassed him and he has been holding it against me ever since. His nurse said I was the only one who succeeded in making him blush.
Dad, if you are reading this, cover your eyes for the next little bit.
So, as all my women friends are familiar with, when we go for a physical we are subjected to some embarrassing and compromising situations. It was a cold, winter afternoon and I was tired and a little jittery as I was shown to my paper gown and the metal impersonal stirrups. Since I had been going through this procedure for 27 years with this man I felt that we had developed a special relationship. The worse part of the whole ordeal is that you lay there while this man is intimately examining you and no one is speaking. You don't have anywhere to look but the ceiling as he has his headlight on and he is intent on some exporation in your nether regions. It is very clinical indeed. I decided I had had enough of this. So, when the inevitable question came up " when was the last time you had sexual intercourse?" I answered honestly "I'm having it now. Is it good for you because I sure could use a smoke." Well, his headlight snapped off and he stood up told me I could get dressed and left the room. I could hear Mary (his nurse) laughing outside the door.
Ever since that incident, he seems to go out of his way trying to get back at me. He came up with the best so far during my exam this week.
After the usual breast exam he told me he found a problem. He asked if I was dating anyone. When I asked why he said I should be aware of what age has done to me and that I need to be careful. He had my full attention. He said I needed to make sure I invested in a really good support bra. I was now sitting on the edge of my seat thinking the worse. "I am sure given your personality that you won't be terribly embarrassed by this but if you ever get intimate again with a new man, you will want to explain your affliction with clarity. I hate to tell you this Holly, but you have a condition called Coopers Droop." OMG!!!!! Was he kidding? What is that? What's wrong with me? "As you have aged Holly, the ligiments in your breasts have pulled (in other words gravity has taken over) in a downward position. It is known as Coopers Droop." Great - there is a name for it. I swear he had a huge smile on his face as he was telling me. AND THEN - he caps it with "So, I see you are turning 50 this year. You are actually a little young for Coopers. Oh well, too bad since it only getrs worse with age. Enjoy the rest of your night and see you in 2 weeks." NICE. See what I mean? He holds a grudge over one little incident and has no sense of humour. I am going to have to think about this. Lets see how the next visit goes. We'll see whose laughing then.
Sadly, this was the highlght of my week. I have a date tomorrow but I may cancel in order to go buy a bra.
Sunday will find me picking up the wee grandkids and taking them with the toys they have saved to Children's hospital. Afterwards we will hit a movie theatre and stuff oursevles with popcorn before returning them home. They are my new best friends. They don't care that I have this horrible affliction.
I need a new hobby.
Stay tuned.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Happy New Year
I was very excited for the beginning of a brand new decade. However, I must learn to accept my limitations and understand that I must never get overly excited about anything - it will only hurt me.
So far, in the first 2 weeks of the year:
2 broken nails
1 pair of rubber boots destroyed
1 bus accident
1 small oven fire
1 forged bank card
1 rug burn (not what you think)
1 fall down the stairs
1 wee car accident involving a cement post
1 dust-up with repeat offender
1 incident of stuck on broken train with garlic bather
1 butt ugly living room
1 search for slippers - not mine
Broken nails speak for themselves. However, my new 'trendy' rubber boots made me very angry. So, I purchased these really cute rubber boots and was making my way to work the day after the holidays ended when I feel my feet getting kinda wet. I thought perhaps my mind was playing tricks and because these boots are meant to keep out the wet but not the cold that my feet were just cold. When I got to the office to change into one of the 8 pairs of pumps I keep under my desk, I pulled them off and imagine my surprise when two puddles of water came out. Thankfully no one was expected to appear in my office that day otherwise they might of been confused as to where they actually were. It looked like my laundry room with my wet socks thrown over my heating vent in an effort to dry before I had to make my way home.
I sat down to check out my boots and discovered that they had cracks in the soles - too many to count. Of course I no longer had the receipt but thought I would try to make a deal with the store where I bought them anyway. They were not very cooperative. They pointed out they are called "the shoe wearhouse" for a reason. I asked what they meant by that and the response I got was "I should understand by the name that they sell discount shoes and you get what you pay for." Well, I said "I PAID for shoes to do the job of keeping my feet of the ground and out of the muck and mire of the street". They did not get the irony of the statement.
A day or so later I was riding my bus home - minding my own business and working on a crossword puzzle when all of the sudden there was a loud bang and flying glass. It seems that one bus tried to pull out while my bus was passing and smashed into the side door of my bus. I must say, I have seen many of us common folks yell at bus drivers (I may have been one of them) but this was the first time I have seen two of them go at each other. It was very entertaining to say the least to hear them 'discuss' each others driving abilities. They too did not see the irony of the situation.
Ok, so no one ever told me that if you place the broiler pan on the top rack, whatever is placed on it may be too close to the top burner and stands a good chance of catching fire. Something good came out of it though - the smoke detector that I took down in order to prepare holiday dinners (too embarrassing when it goes off in front of company) won't work when it is placed on a book case in the hallway. What a mess. The next time Kris used the oven he wanted to know what the hell stunk up the house. I was able to tell him his cooking stinks.
After 3 attempts to get access to my banking info online, I thought I was losing my mind. I checked that I had the correct information and promptly called my credit union ready to yell. Turns out they shut my account and card down as they said I had been compromised (sounds better than it is). Someone had made a duplicate of my card and attempts were made to access my account. Crappity crap crap. I thought I had been so careful since the theft of my identity and card fraud again last year. I use Point of Sale only at outlets that I know (grocery store, Sears etc), cover the pin pad and such. When I spoke the fraud department he stated that while they do not know exactly how it was done this time, he suggested that I find a metal wallet or card container and keep all cards with data on them in there. It seems that your information can be stolen by someone just walking past you with a small electronic devise. Oy vey. I think from now on I am going to deal in cash only and keep it in my bra. That jingling noise you hear will be my chest and if you find any quarters on the ground most likely they are mine and they just fell out of my bra. Perhaps I will get a raise this year and can upgrade to paper money. I am thinking it will be less noisy when I walk.
As I was cleaning up the aftermath of holiday excitement and hauling 2 tons of decorations and such down three flights of stairs, the cat decided it was a good time to stretch out on stair #5 of the second flight. This caused me to fall the last 6 steps. However, I landed on the Christmas tree at the bottom so no broken bones to start the new year. But can someone remind me let the cat out of the closet before we move? I also need a new tree but the good news is - nothing broke on me this time! Maybe it will be a good year after all.
No one saw me so I am not sure it counts as an accident. Some bonehead parked all wonky beside me in our underground parking lot. I tried first to push it out of the way but having missed my Weaties that morning, did not have the strength so instead I tried - valiantly I might add - to maneuver around it. I swear, that cement post moved three inches to the left. As I heard that sickly crunch down the side of car all I could think about was "how do I make this not my fault?" Actually, if the bonehead in the other parking spot learned how to park properly none of this would have happened. So, another sign of a possible good year - found fault - not mine.
Remember the bozo who came up and asked me for spare change before the holidays and then said he would wait while I went to the bank machine? He made a repeat appearance last week begging for change. What a knob. I said "what a surprise to see you again. It's been a couple of weeks - how you doin?" I stated again that I would not be making a trip to my bank machine so that I could have the pleasure of giving him my change and to shove off. He stood there not 2 inches from my face. I put my earplugs back in and returned to my book. He obviously had no idea who he was messing with. He continued to stand there - right in my personal space and started to make comments on my gene pool affiliations. I guess he thought he could embarrass me or something. Imagine the surprise on his face when I told him to F&%^& off or I would take my pen and shove it deeply into his scrotum through his baggy pants and twist his manhood until he begged me to just kill him instead. The three other people on the bus bench applauded. Might be a good year - maybe he will tell his friends and they will all leave me alone.
One of my worse fears were also realized. I got on the train to return from Burnaby when it broke down. For 45 minutes I was stuck on a train beside someone who obviously bathed in garlic that morning. Breathing through my mouth made me thirsty however I was reluctant to drink any of my water for fear I would have to pee. That is the fear. It happens on elevators as well. Anywhere I could be stuck my first fear is 'OMG, now I have to pee'. What should have been a 30 minute ride turned into 90 minute fiasco. Not a good year so far for public transit.
My living room is ugly. In an effort to start off with a new look for the new year, after putting all the decorations away, I tried to rearrange the living room. It didn't work. Now I remember why I put the couch where it was. This is where I got the rug burn. After unloading both of my china cabinets, I had to push and pull one of them across the room - on a carpeted floor. It took me an hour and because I had no leverage up top, I had to push and pull from my knees at the bottom. 4 hours later when it had been done I decided it is easier to get new furniture than to try to put this back to the way it was. Right after tax time, I am going to IKEA and starting fresh.
The search for slippers brings me to today. On my way in this morning there was a woman on my bus who was wearing blue slippers when I got on. When I was getting off, she had lost one. She said she could not recall what happened but lo and behold there she was with only one blue fuzzy slipper on her foot. She asked if I could help her locate the other. I spent about 5 minutes with her but then the bus drove off. Never saw the other slipper. I wonder what happened. She stayed on the bus so perhaps I will see her on my trip home.
New Year - New Dates. My friend has offered to take new pictures of me and help me set up new web posting. I think this time I will be a 39 year old flight attendant (stop laughing - it could be true).
Stay tuned, I will keep you posted.
Cheers
So far, in the first 2 weeks of the year:
2 broken nails
1 pair of rubber boots destroyed
1 bus accident
1 small oven fire
1 forged bank card
1 rug burn (not what you think)
1 fall down the stairs
1 wee car accident involving a cement post
1 dust-up with repeat offender
1 incident of stuck on broken train with garlic bather
1 butt ugly living room
1 search for slippers - not mine
Broken nails speak for themselves. However, my new 'trendy' rubber boots made me very angry. So, I purchased these really cute rubber boots and was making my way to work the day after the holidays ended when I feel my feet getting kinda wet. I thought perhaps my mind was playing tricks and because these boots are meant to keep out the wet but not the cold that my feet were just cold. When I got to the office to change into one of the 8 pairs of pumps I keep under my desk, I pulled them off and imagine my surprise when two puddles of water came out. Thankfully no one was expected to appear in my office that day otherwise they might of been confused as to where they actually were. It looked like my laundry room with my wet socks thrown over my heating vent in an effort to dry before I had to make my way home.
I sat down to check out my boots and discovered that they had cracks in the soles - too many to count. Of course I no longer had the receipt but thought I would try to make a deal with the store where I bought them anyway. They were not very cooperative. They pointed out they are called "the shoe wearhouse" for a reason. I asked what they meant by that and the response I got was "I should understand by the name that they sell discount shoes and you get what you pay for." Well, I said "I PAID for shoes to do the job of keeping my feet of the ground and out of the muck and mire of the street". They did not get the irony of the statement.
A day or so later I was riding my bus home - minding my own business and working on a crossword puzzle when all of the sudden there was a loud bang and flying glass. It seems that one bus tried to pull out while my bus was passing and smashed into the side door of my bus. I must say, I have seen many of us common folks yell at bus drivers (I may have been one of them) but this was the first time I have seen two of them go at each other. It was very entertaining to say the least to hear them 'discuss' each others driving abilities. They too did not see the irony of the situation.
Ok, so no one ever told me that if you place the broiler pan on the top rack, whatever is placed on it may be too close to the top burner and stands a good chance of catching fire. Something good came out of it though - the smoke detector that I took down in order to prepare holiday dinners (too embarrassing when it goes off in front of company) won't work when it is placed on a book case in the hallway. What a mess. The next time Kris used the oven he wanted to know what the hell stunk up the house. I was able to tell him his cooking stinks.
After 3 attempts to get access to my banking info online, I thought I was losing my mind. I checked that I had the correct information and promptly called my credit union ready to yell. Turns out they shut my account and card down as they said I had been compromised (sounds better than it is). Someone had made a duplicate of my card and attempts were made to access my account. Crappity crap crap. I thought I had been so careful since the theft of my identity and card fraud again last year. I use Point of Sale only at outlets that I know (grocery store, Sears etc), cover the pin pad and such. When I spoke the fraud department he stated that while they do not know exactly how it was done this time, he suggested that I find a metal wallet or card container and keep all cards with data on them in there. It seems that your information can be stolen by someone just walking past you with a small electronic devise. Oy vey. I think from now on I am going to deal in cash only and keep it in my bra. That jingling noise you hear will be my chest and if you find any quarters on the ground most likely they are mine and they just fell out of my bra. Perhaps I will get a raise this year and can upgrade to paper money. I am thinking it will be less noisy when I walk.
As I was cleaning up the aftermath of holiday excitement and hauling 2 tons of decorations and such down three flights of stairs, the cat decided it was a good time to stretch out on stair #5 of the second flight. This caused me to fall the last 6 steps. However, I landed on the Christmas tree at the bottom so no broken bones to start the new year. But can someone remind me let the cat out of the closet before we move? I also need a new tree but the good news is - nothing broke on me this time! Maybe it will be a good year after all.
No one saw me so I am not sure it counts as an accident. Some bonehead parked all wonky beside me in our underground parking lot. I tried first to push it out of the way but having missed my Weaties that morning, did not have the strength so instead I tried - valiantly I might add - to maneuver around it. I swear, that cement post moved three inches to the left. As I heard that sickly crunch down the side of car all I could think about was "how do I make this not my fault?" Actually, if the bonehead in the other parking spot learned how to park properly none of this would have happened. So, another sign of a possible good year - found fault - not mine.
Remember the bozo who came up and asked me for spare change before the holidays and then said he would wait while I went to the bank machine? He made a repeat appearance last week begging for change. What a knob. I said "what a surprise to see you again. It's been a couple of weeks - how you doin?" I stated again that I would not be making a trip to my bank machine so that I could have the pleasure of giving him my change and to shove off. He stood there not 2 inches from my face. I put my earplugs back in and returned to my book. He obviously had no idea who he was messing with. He continued to stand there - right in my personal space and started to make comments on my gene pool affiliations. I guess he thought he could embarrass me or something. Imagine the surprise on his face when I told him to F&%^& off or I would take my pen and shove it deeply into his scrotum through his baggy pants and twist his manhood until he begged me to just kill him instead. The three other people on the bus bench applauded. Might be a good year - maybe he will tell his friends and they will all leave me alone.
One of my worse fears were also realized. I got on the train to return from Burnaby when it broke down. For 45 minutes I was stuck on a train beside someone who obviously bathed in garlic that morning. Breathing through my mouth made me thirsty however I was reluctant to drink any of my water for fear I would have to pee. That is the fear. It happens on elevators as well. Anywhere I could be stuck my first fear is 'OMG, now I have to pee'. What should have been a 30 minute ride turned into 90 minute fiasco. Not a good year so far for public transit.
My living room is ugly. In an effort to start off with a new look for the new year, after putting all the decorations away, I tried to rearrange the living room. It didn't work. Now I remember why I put the couch where it was. This is where I got the rug burn. After unloading both of my china cabinets, I had to push and pull one of them across the room - on a carpeted floor. It took me an hour and because I had no leverage up top, I had to push and pull from my knees at the bottom. 4 hours later when it had been done I decided it is easier to get new furniture than to try to put this back to the way it was. Right after tax time, I am going to IKEA and starting fresh.
The search for slippers brings me to today. On my way in this morning there was a woman on my bus who was wearing blue slippers when I got on. When I was getting off, she had lost one. She said she could not recall what happened but lo and behold there she was with only one blue fuzzy slipper on her foot. She asked if I could help her locate the other. I spent about 5 minutes with her but then the bus drove off. Never saw the other slipper. I wonder what happened. She stayed on the bus so perhaps I will see her on my trip home.
New Year - New Dates. My friend has offered to take new pictures of me and help me set up new web posting. I think this time I will be a 39 year old flight attendant (stop laughing - it could be true).
Stay tuned, I will keep you posted.
Cheers
Sunday, December 19, 2010
It's going to take a lot more to embarrass me
I am still wondering how this was my fault. I was standing - completely still - waiting for my bus home from work. I had my earphones in and my ear muffs on. I have taken to wearing both so that I can zone out all the "spare change" requests on my travels around the city. I was also working on a crossword puzzle. I was not bothering anyone at all and again, I stress, I WAS STANDING COMPLETELY STILL.
Because I was in my own zone I didn't see it coming until it happened. I was run over and knocked into the back of the bus stop. I was run over by a young man on a scooter. He had 5 feet of sidewalk space but it seems he headed right for me (see earlier blog referring to freak magnate). Not only did he run me over but then he sat there on his scooter yelling at me. As a crowd gathered to see what was going on I felt I should launch into some sort of defence. Because I was still in a bit of a shock, I just stood there looking at him before calmly removing my headphones and earmuffs and said " I am sorry I didn't offer you more of a challenge. Next time I will run around the sidewalk bobbing and weaving so as to provide you with a real game and an opportunity to test your hunting skills. Not much of a challenge for you to hit someone standing still. Merry Christmas" People in the crowd applauded. He started to scream even more that I was a bitch and offensive to disabled people and should not be allowed out in public. Well, really, he had no idea. It takes a hell of a lot more than that to embarrass me. It seems smiling at someone and saying Merry Christmas tend to make some people very upset.
After he went away, I put the earphones and earmuffs back in place and returned to my crossword puzzle. I was barely settled in again when I got a tap on the shoulder from behind. Thinking someone wanted to see if I was ok, I took the ear gear off and turned around. Standing in front of me was a guy who asked for my spare change (obviously the ear coverings are no longer a deterant). I politely said no. He stood there looking at me and then said "well, you obviously have a bank card so we can go across the street while you get me some cash". Was he kidding? Was the ghost of Allan Funt around the corner filming me? I said not likely. He began to argue that I was indeed a selfish bitch. Yeah - that's going to work. I had already dropped $20 into the Salvation Army bin and sent my annual cheque to the United Way. I told him to go talk to them. He started to get more agressive and again, I seem to have attracted a crowd. All of this happened within a 10 minute period. It seems my freak magnate was set to full attraction.
I made it home in one piece in time to get ready to meet my friend Heather, her new boyfriend and mother for an evening out at Van Dusen gardens. It was a beautiful evening. The sky was clear and the air crisp. The gardens had done a fabulous job of more than 1 million lights strung through part of the gardens. There were carols being sung and hot chocolate to be had while we strolled. I was very much put in the mood of the season - even more so when I ran into Santa for a Christmas grope - not once but twice. Made my day. I had a great time and enjoyed meeting Heather's new beau. Because she is my friend, I even let him give me a hug goodnight. As readers are aware, I am not a hugger - especially with people I just met. She is going to owe me.
After enjoying lunch with my youngest daughter on Satuday, I spent the evening in front of the fire wrapping gifts and making the traditional nuts n' bolts. This year was a success when I only burned a small portion. I made enough to fill the entire turkey roaster. I found out the trick is to make the seasoning plentiful and then slowly pour the mixture over the cereals and bake them slowly in a cooler oven. This of course is a bit contrary to my usual style of cooking - if 350 degrees is good then 450 must be better. I stirred every 20 minutes in a 250 degree oven for 3 hours. I think they taste pretty good and once I finish picking out all the burnt shreddies, it will be perfect.
I am almost all set for Santa - only 6 more sleeps. I just have some stocking stuffers to get, fressh veggies to purchase and the baking of my pies and tarts. I wanted to do them this weekend but I have no room in my wee freezer. I will have to bake at the last minute and keep my fingers crossed as I will have no time to re-do if necessary. I usually need to have at least two tries before I get it mostly right. My black bottom cookies are a family favorite.
I have a date for Wednesday night. Not sure how I feel about it since I am rather busy at the moment. I finally agreed to dinner but we may have to eat in a hurry so I can get home to finish some last minute items. Hopefully he won't want to order dessert.
I will keep you posted.
Cheers and ho ho ho
Because I was in my own zone I didn't see it coming until it happened. I was run over and knocked into the back of the bus stop. I was run over by a young man on a scooter. He had 5 feet of sidewalk space but it seems he headed right for me (see earlier blog referring to freak magnate). Not only did he run me over but then he sat there on his scooter yelling at me. As a crowd gathered to see what was going on I felt I should launch into some sort of defence. Because I was still in a bit of a shock, I just stood there looking at him before calmly removing my headphones and earmuffs and said " I am sorry I didn't offer you more of a challenge. Next time I will run around the sidewalk bobbing and weaving so as to provide you with a real game and an opportunity to test your hunting skills. Not much of a challenge for you to hit someone standing still. Merry Christmas" People in the crowd applauded. He started to scream even more that I was a bitch and offensive to disabled people and should not be allowed out in public. Well, really, he had no idea. It takes a hell of a lot more than that to embarrass me. It seems smiling at someone and saying Merry Christmas tend to make some people very upset.
After he went away, I put the earphones and earmuffs back in place and returned to my crossword puzzle. I was barely settled in again when I got a tap on the shoulder from behind. Thinking someone wanted to see if I was ok, I took the ear gear off and turned around. Standing in front of me was a guy who asked for my spare change (obviously the ear coverings are no longer a deterant). I politely said no. He stood there looking at me and then said "well, you obviously have a bank card so we can go across the street while you get me some cash". Was he kidding? Was the ghost of Allan Funt around the corner filming me? I said not likely. He began to argue that I was indeed a selfish bitch. Yeah - that's going to work. I had already dropped $20 into the Salvation Army bin and sent my annual cheque to the United Way. I told him to go talk to them. He started to get more agressive and again, I seem to have attracted a crowd. All of this happened within a 10 minute period. It seems my freak magnate was set to full attraction.
I made it home in one piece in time to get ready to meet my friend Heather, her new boyfriend and mother for an evening out at Van Dusen gardens. It was a beautiful evening. The sky was clear and the air crisp. The gardens had done a fabulous job of more than 1 million lights strung through part of the gardens. There were carols being sung and hot chocolate to be had while we strolled. I was very much put in the mood of the season - even more so when I ran into Santa for a Christmas grope - not once but twice. Made my day. I had a great time and enjoyed meeting Heather's new beau. Because she is my friend, I even let him give me a hug goodnight. As readers are aware, I am not a hugger - especially with people I just met. She is going to owe me.
After enjoying lunch with my youngest daughter on Satuday, I spent the evening in front of the fire wrapping gifts and making the traditional nuts n' bolts. This year was a success when I only burned a small portion. I made enough to fill the entire turkey roaster. I found out the trick is to make the seasoning plentiful and then slowly pour the mixture over the cereals and bake them slowly in a cooler oven. This of course is a bit contrary to my usual style of cooking - if 350 degrees is good then 450 must be better. I stirred every 20 minutes in a 250 degree oven for 3 hours. I think they taste pretty good and once I finish picking out all the burnt shreddies, it will be perfect.
I am almost all set for Santa - only 6 more sleeps. I just have some stocking stuffers to get, fressh veggies to purchase and the baking of my pies and tarts. I wanted to do them this weekend but I have no room in my wee freezer. I will have to bake at the last minute and keep my fingers crossed as I will have no time to re-do if necessary. I usually need to have at least two tries before I get it mostly right. My black bottom cookies are a family favorite.
I have a date for Wednesday night. Not sure how I feel about it since I am rather busy at the moment. I finally agreed to dinner but we may have to eat in a hurry so I can get home to finish some last minute items. Hopefully he won't want to order dessert.
I will keep you posted.
Cheers and ho ho ho
Monday, December 13, 2010
No new dates
Sorry, been very busy lately and without time to blog.
I had the grandkids over for the weekend last week and we decorated, shopped and went to the Santa Claus Parade. They are old enough now that after I strung the lights, I let them decorate the tree themselves. It is a wee bit bottom heavy and naked at the back. And for some reason, all the candy canes are all clumped together in one location for easy access. I was told we had to eat one each that night "just to check that they were ok". Works for me.
I was invited to a wonderful Christmas party this past Friday. I didn't want to look foolish in my usual attire (I own work and play clothes, not much in the middle) as the event was in a posh downtown hotel so I pulled everything out of my closet in search for something suitable. I was in luck. Tucked in the very back was a formal, almost floor length, dress from a few years ago. I just needed shoes to go with it. I found a cute pair just the day before the event. Friday afternoon I rushed home from the office early so I could spend time bathing and doing some weed wacking on the legs. I carefully applied make-up (that I hardly ever wear), did my hair and sprayed it within an inch of its life. When I was all done, I carefully removed the dress from the cleaning bag and slipped it over my head. It was stuck. I tugged some more and finally got it past my boobs. Oh oh. Too late to find something else to wear. What to do, what to do???? I was in a panic. This is where my imagined invention would have come in handy.
In a dream one night, I came up with the idea of Girdle Paper. It would come on a role like the size of which you see in public washrooms. It would be available in women's rooms around the world (ok, some men could also use it). You would just pull off as much as you need and wrap it around the areas of concern and it would hold you securly in place. If you happened to sneeze or something during the evening, no problem, just go into the ladies room and pull off some more to affix in the "sneezed off" zone.
Well, since I have not yet invented said Girdle Paper, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do. I finally got the whole dress on and in place, but noticed that when I turned sideways I looked about 9 months pregnant. No way was I going to be able to hold in my gut all night long in this thing. However, since I bought the shoes to go with it, I felt compelled to figure something out. A blinding flash suddenly hit me......I happened to have an old pair of Spanx somewhere in my bedroom. By the time I finally found them, my room looked vaguely similar to my grandsons bedroom after his friends come over to play. I slid the spanx on over my hips and held my breath to see if really, in all honesty, if I could still breath, walk and talk while wearing them. I then slowly made my way to the mirror to see if I still looked like I was 12 weeks overdue from delivering a healthy 12 pound son. Whew! Not perfect, but I could move - mostly. What I hadn't counted on however, was the newest addition to my body. It seems when you wear Spanx (or any girdle), you are are just redistributing the fat. I now had two extra boobs coming out of the arm holes of my dress. No time to worry, I just grabbed a shawl to cover it up. I slipped on my new shoes and was out the door.
All was going well. It was a wonderful dinner and the company was fantastic. However, I learned a very valuable lesson which I am sure most of you already know but since I rarely get to get all dressed up, it was not one I was familiar with. If you are wearing brand new shoes for the first time, do not try to dance and then walk 3 blocks to your car unless you come prepared with band-aids in your purse. By the time I made it home, the Spanx were calling it a night. As I undressed and hung up my dress, put my shoes away and dumped my purse on the bed, these little life savers were actually screaming for me to give them a break and I swear they actually yelled "for the love of all that is holy, take us the hell off and next time buy a larger size". I really hate mouthy underwear.
I have to tell you what happened on Granville this afternoon. So, a friend of mine came by my office for a visit this afternoon and as she was leaving, I walked her down to street level Granville on my way to grab some lunch. After she left I stood there trying to decide what I felt like having today. I must have looked like I was lost, a tourist or just an idiot. Two young men came up to me and mumbled something. Since they were freshly shaven and clean I heard myself saying 'excuse me?". (instead of my usual Sprechen Zie Deutsch?) Well, it seems that was the only invitation they needed. The said something about Reiki (??) treatments and my Shockra (not sure how that is spelled). Before I knew what was happening, they grabbed my hands and put the together and then started to wave over them and chant before moving to my head and neck area. Being a little dumbfounded and having now drawn a crowd, I stayed put and let this happen. It seems I have been un-aligned with the earth. This has now been corrected and if it works, I will be at peace with the universe. I have ALWAYS been at peace with the universe. It just so happens that the universe hasn't always understood me and therefore declared war. I guess I will see what happens now that we are at peace. I am always hopeful.
Well, 12 more sleeps till Santa comes. I am getting ready and if my family pays me enough, I may even decide not to cook this year.
I will keep you posted.
I had the grandkids over for the weekend last week and we decorated, shopped and went to the Santa Claus Parade. They are old enough now that after I strung the lights, I let them decorate the tree themselves. It is a wee bit bottom heavy and naked at the back. And for some reason, all the candy canes are all clumped together in one location for easy access. I was told we had to eat one each that night "just to check that they were ok". Works for me.
I was invited to a wonderful Christmas party this past Friday. I didn't want to look foolish in my usual attire (I own work and play clothes, not much in the middle) as the event was in a posh downtown hotel so I pulled everything out of my closet in search for something suitable. I was in luck. Tucked in the very back was a formal, almost floor length, dress from a few years ago. I just needed shoes to go with it. I found a cute pair just the day before the event. Friday afternoon I rushed home from the office early so I could spend time bathing and doing some weed wacking on the legs. I carefully applied make-up (that I hardly ever wear), did my hair and sprayed it within an inch of its life. When I was all done, I carefully removed the dress from the cleaning bag and slipped it over my head. It was stuck. I tugged some more and finally got it past my boobs. Oh oh. Too late to find something else to wear. What to do, what to do???? I was in a panic. This is where my imagined invention would have come in handy.
In a dream one night, I came up with the idea of Girdle Paper. It would come on a role like the size of which you see in public washrooms. It would be available in women's rooms around the world (ok, some men could also use it). You would just pull off as much as you need and wrap it around the areas of concern and it would hold you securly in place. If you happened to sneeze or something during the evening, no problem, just go into the ladies room and pull off some more to affix in the "sneezed off" zone.
Well, since I have not yet invented said Girdle Paper, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do. I finally got the whole dress on and in place, but noticed that when I turned sideways I looked about 9 months pregnant. No way was I going to be able to hold in my gut all night long in this thing. However, since I bought the shoes to go with it, I felt compelled to figure something out. A blinding flash suddenly hit me......I happened to have an old pair of Spanx somewhere in my bedroom. By the time I finally found them, my room looked vaguely similar to my grandsons bedroom after his friends come over to play. I slid the spanx on over my hips and held my breath to see if really, in all honesty, if I could still breath, walk and talk while wearing them. I then slowly made my way to the mirror to see if I still looked like I was 12 weeks overdue from delivering a healthy 12 pound son. Whew! Not perfect, but I could move - mostly. What I hadn't counted on however, was the newest addition to my body. It seems when you wear Spanx (or any girdle), you are are just redistributing the fat. I now had two extra boobs coming out of the arm holes of my dress. No time to worry, I just grabbed a shawl to cover it up. I slipped on my new shoes and was out the door.
All was going well. It was a wonderful dinner and the company was fantastic. However, I learned a very valuable lesson which I am sure most of you already know but since I rarely get to get all dressed up, it was not one I was familiar with. If you are wearing brand new shoes for the first time, do not try to dance and then walk 3 blocks to your car unless you come prepared with band-aids in your purse. By the time I made it home, the Spanx were calling it a night. As I undressed and hung up my dress, put my shoes away and dumped my purse on the bed, these little life savers were actually screaming for me to give them a break and I swear they actually yelled "for the love of all that is holy, take us the hell off and next time buy a larger size". I really hate mouthy underwear.
I have to tell you what happened on Granville this afternoon. So, a friend of mine came by my office for a visit this afternoon and as she was leaving, I walked her down to street level Granville on my way to grab some lunch. After she left I stood there trying to decide what I felt like having today. I must have looked like I was lost, a tourist or just an idiot. Two young men came up to me and mumbled something. Since they were freshly shaven and clean I heard myself saying 'excuse me?". (instead of my usual Sprechen Zie Deutsch?) Well, it seems that was the only invitation they needed. The said something about Reiki (??) treatments and my Shockra (not sure how that is spelled). Before I knew what was happening, they grabbed my hands and put the together and then started to wave over them and chant before moving to my head and neck area. Being a little dumbfounded and having now drawn a crowd, I stayed put and let this happen. It seems I have been un-aligned with the earth. This has now been corrected and if it works, I will be at peace with the universe. I have ALWAYS been at peace with the universe. It just so happens that the universe hasn't always understood me and therefore declared war. I guess I will see what happens now that we are at peace. I am always hopeful.
Well, 12 more sleeps till Santa comes. I am getting ready and if my family pays me enough, I may even decide not to cook this year.
I will keep you posted.
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