Have you ever had a moment in your life where you stop and think to yourself “that seemed like a total movie moment!” Usually it's the perfect kiss, a comedy of errors, a gunman... You know, things that only happen in the movies. Recently I have had several movie moments, but it's sort of like the same movie moment over and over and over again.
What is that movie moment you ask? Well let me tell you! Have you ever watched Office Space? If you haven't then stop everything and go watch it! It's pretty friggin' awesome. If you have, then do you remember the part in the movie where Milton says “and I could see the squirrels, and they were merry, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much.” This has become my life. I just realized that I enjoy watching the squirrels way to much! I talk about them all the time. For instance, have you noticed that they are super cute right now because they are all so fat? They look so happy! Even the one with only half a tail.
They seem a little less crazy right now too. They aren't running in front of the cars as much, they aren't letting the dogs chase them all the time, they all just seem fat and content. They know their purpose in life, and they have almost completed the cycle. It's like the end of the school year for them, they will be all tucked away and enjoying a winters sleep without a care in the world.
A few days ago, I hand fed one! He just came right up to me and sniffed through my grocery bags, so I opened a box of crackers and fed it to him. He just chilled and ate it while I unloaded my car. What is with that?? Why are they so content right now? Do they know something we don't? Could it be that while I curse out Firefox for getting rid of the side bar for favourite sites, they are plotting our demise? Or could it be that while I can't figure out who sings that song on the radio and no DJ ever wants to tell me the name of the song, the squirrels have figured out world piece and are applying it to the squirrel kingdom? Or maybe it could be that while I wait for the TTC, they are simply living life.
I think am actually jealous of the squirrels right now. Yikes! Perhaps I should start applying “squirrel philosophy” to my life. Screw traffic, It will do my bidding! I will have a killer diet to be bathing suit friendly by the end of winter, it's called sleep for 6 months. I will fascinate tourists, and fill their photo albums with my pictures. I will go wherever the fuck I want, and apologize to no one! Ya know the more I think about it, The more I think Squirrels have the right idea... Wow, I need a vacation!
A cold cold day
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Monster
If you ask someone who they may want to meet the answers may vary. Some may say the Dali Lama, some may say Picasso, some may even say the twilight trio. Me?? It's none of the above. The person I wanna meet most, is The Monster That Lives In My Tupperware Cupboard. Not to be confused with The Monster Who Steals Socks (or in my case seems to chew little holes in them...)
You may wonder why I want to meet him so badly. The reason is simple; I just want to know why? Why just the Tupperware lids? What is it about them that is so much better than the bottoms? I am for sure intrigued by his choices. I would like to discuss them with him, maybe something happened to him as a child, and this is how he deals with it. Maybe I offended him at some point, so in order to retaliate he eats my lids. Maybe he has a little monster baby that has been kidnapped, and the ransom is Tupperware lids (that would explain why everyone I know has the same problem as me). Maybe he just likes the colours, who knows?? All I am sure of is that he visits at least once a week, and he seems to like the colours blue and red, because those are the lids that go first.
You may wonder why I assume The Monster That Lives In My Tupperware Cupboard is a man and not a woman, so lets get real here for a second. A woman would never steal another woman's Tupperware lid, that's just mean. If the monster were female, the lids would reappear just after you bought and opened some new Tupperware. Well, that's what I would do if I were being a bitchy monster, I assume all woman think that way...
Now you may classify this as a first world problem, and I wouldn't disagree. In fact I realize I am very fortunate that this is even a problem, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. Or that I can't have a need to meet The Monster. What's his nationality? Was he born here or did he move here? If so, how long ago? Does he have an accent, and if he does, what kind? Is he racist? Does he like the Toronto Maple Leafs? I feel like if I work hard enough maybe we can even be friends. Maybe I can even help him deal with his Tupperware addiction, if it is an addiction. Because of me, suffering all over the world could end! Well that is if there is only one Monster, otherwise we are all screwed!
Once I'm besties with The Monster That Lives In The Tupperware cupboard, I plan on politely asking him if I can talk to his cousin- The Thing In My Bag That Knots Up My Head Phones. How does he manage to tangle them so quickly?? That guy is a real dick.
You may wonder why I want to meet him so badly. The reason is simple; I just want to know why? Why just the Tupperware lids? What is it about them that is so much better than the bottoms? I am for sure intrigued by his choices. I would like to discuss them with him, maybe something happened to him as a child, and this is how he deals with it. Maybe I offended him at some point, so in order to retaliate he eats my lids. Maybe he has a little monster baby that has been kidnapped, and the ransom is Tupperware lids (that would explain why everyone I know has the same problem as me). Maybe he just likes the colours, who knows?? All I am sure of is that he visits at least once a week, and he seems to like the colours blue and red, because those are the lids that go first.
You may wonder why I assume The Monster That Lives In My Tupperware Cupboard is a man and not a woman, so lets get real here for a second. A woman would never steal another woman's Tupperware lid, that's just mean. If the monster were female, the lids would reappear just after you bought and opened some new Tupperware. Well, that's what I would do if I were being a bitchy monster, I assume all woman think that way...
Now you may classify this as a first world problem, and I wouldn't disagree. In fact I realize I am very fortunate that this is even a problem, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. Or that I can't have a need to meet The Monster. What's his nationality? Was he born here or did he move here? If so, how long ago? Does he have an accent, and if he does, what kind? Is he racist? Does he like the Toronto Maple Leafs? I feel like if I work hard enough maybe we can even be friends. Maybe I can even help him deal with his Tupperware addiction, if it is an addiction. Because of me, suffering all over the world could end! Well that is if there is only one Monster, otherwise we are all screwed!
Once I'm besties with The Monster That Lives In The Tupperware cupboard, I plan on politely asking him if I can talk to his cousin- The Thing In My Bag That Knots Up My Head Phones. How does he manage to tangle them so quickly?? That guy is a real dick.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Offering
Do you know what sucks? When you offer your seat to a pregnant woman or an elderly person, or someone in a cast, and they say no thanks. The sucky part isn't that they say no, it's that everyone who is standing around you who didn't hear you offer the seat- is judging you. Today was case in point. I offered my seat (I was the last person in the row of the first half of the streetcar) to a woman holding a baby, but she said no she needed to bounce the baby to keep her quiet, I oooh'd and aaaaah'd over the baby, then went back to my game of solitaire. Could I enjoy my game of solitaire you ask? No! Why? Because every person who didn't have a seat was standing there judging me! Those d-bags assumed she wanted a seat, and I didn't offer her one. There was this one woman who made a point of offering her a seat when the one in front of me was empty (FYI the guy who was sitting there also offered the woman with a baby his seat) she said, and I quote “Ma'am, would you like to actually sit?” Fuck you! I offered and she declined, don't judge me! And, I am not sitting in the first 5 seats. She passed 7 rows before she got to me! Judge them, not me! And how do you know I don't have something wrong with me the requires me to sit? I don't, but you don't know that you judgy prick!
Now, you may say Carolyn, calm down, don't let them bother you, you know what you did, so who cares what they think? Well I don't want to calm down! Maybe if we could is some way point out the people who don't want seats, like make them wear a sign or something, that would be good.
The other fine line that I have had issues with the streetcar and the seat offering is how do you tell if they are elderly? Men aren't so difficult to spot, but women can be a little bit trickier. Sometimes you think should I offer them my seat? She looks like she is late 60's, but maybe not? I've seen some rough looking forty year old's! For men it's easy, they can just pretend they are chivalrous. But what is the solution for women? And what about pregnant woman? Sometimes you just can't tell! I think we need to make them wear signs as well. Let's eliminate all of the guess work, and that way we can judge those who should be judged. And you know who I am talking about, those jerks who sit in the 4 seats at the front, you know the seats that have the little signs above them saying who they are reserved for. Let's all judge them together!
Now, you may say Carolyn, calm down, don't let them bother you, you know what you did, so who cares what they think? Well I don't want to calm down! Maybe if we could is some way point out the people who don't want seats, like make them wear a sign or something, that would be good.
The other fine line that I have had issues with the streetcar and the seat offering is how do you tell if they are elderly? Men aren't so difficult to spot, but women can be a little bit trickier. Sometimes you think should I offer them my seat? She looks like she is late 60's, but maybe not? I've seen some rough looking forty year old's! For men it's easy, they can just pretend they are chivalrous. But what is the solution for women? And what about pregnant woman? Sometimes you just can't tell! I think we need to make them wear signs as well. Let's eliminate all of the guess work, and that way we can judge those who should be judged. And you know who I am talking about, those jerks who sit in the 4 seats at the front, you know the seats that have the little signs above them saying who they are reserved for. Let's all judge them together!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Fun With Words
Do you have those words that you just love to say? There are sometimes are no explanations for the love, it just happens. I have lots of those words in my life, splendid- it just sounds like it means! Magnificent- with the emphasis on Mag, it's exciting to say!
How about words that sound dirty but aren't? Magma, that's one. Coccyx, that one still makes me giggle when my trainer says it, I know I'm like an eleven year old girl, deal with it. Here's one that's great; uvula! It's the hangyball in the back of your throat, see this is fun and informative! Side note, have you ever seen a uvula pierced? Ew slash ow! How do you even get that pierced without gagging? If you suggested magic, I wouldn't disagree.
Something else I love are ingredients that sound weird. Bulgar- sounds vulgar! Ahhhhh... you were thinking it too! Ghee- whenever I read this word I hear it in my head as if a Mini Me said it. Another one that I love isn't an ingredient but a type of food, baba ganoush. If you ever watched the tv show MXC, you know someone was called that every episode, and it was awesome! My sister and I cheered every time it happened. Sometimes that was the best part of the show.
Right now you may be asking yourself what's Carolyn's favourite word? Well, I will take the suspense away, as I know it must killing you. I would have to say my favourite word just might be... Fork! Say it to yourself, fork. Say it kinda slow. It's like two syllables, but it isn't! Say it again. Fork. Say it five times really fast, fork fork fork fork fork! Great word, right?
How about words that sound dirty but aren't? Magma, that's one. Coccyx, that one still makes me giggle when my trainer says it, I know I'm like an eleven year old girl, deal with it. Here's one that's great; uvula! It's the hangyball in the back of your throat, see this is fun and informative! Side note, have you ever seen a uvula pierced? Ew slash ow! How do you even get that pierced without gagging? If you suggested magic, I wouldn't disagree.
Something else I love are ingredients that sound weird. Bulgar- sounds vulgar! Ahhhhh... you were thinking it too! Ghee- whenever I read this word I hear it in my head as if a Mini Me said it. Another one that I love isn't an ingredient but a type of food, baba ganoush. If you ever watched the tv show MXC, you know someone was called that every episode, and it was awesome! My sister and I cheered every time it happened. Sometimes that was the best part of the show.
Right now you may be asking yourself what's Carolyn's favourite word? Well, I will take the suspense away, as I know it must killing you. I would have to say my favourite word just might be... Fork! Say it to yourself, fork. Say it kinda slow. It's like two syllables, but it isn't! Say it again. Fork. Say it five times really fast, fork fork fork fork fork! Great word, right?
Monday, March 14, 2011
The Importance of a Good Handshake
I am a slightly socially awkward person, I admit it. In fact I recently realized I go out of my way to avoid certain situations. If the streetcar looks full, I'll wait for the next one, I want that single seat! If I'm shopping and I see someone from high school, I go down the next aisle, and even consider abandoning my cart to avoid them. Whenever possible I try to get a desk between myself and reps from work so I don't have to hug them. (Don't even get me started on the whole hugging situation!)
The other day I had an important person from one of the companies I work with come into my store to check out their section. They were French, and their company is very prestigious, and I had no desk between me and them. I tried very hard to gauge the situation. I started to go for the handshake, and then decided she was the type to go for a hug. I got ready for a hug, and I went in for it, but she surprised me with the side cheek kiss. I almost recovered without to much of a blunder, and as I pulled away, she went in for the second cheek kiss! I had like 4 feet between us when I realized she was going for that second kiss, so, I had to rush/lean forward and I smushed my cheek against hers, but the damage was done. We were both very aware that I had messed up.
Here's what bothers me about this situation. WTF?!?!? Why can't we handshake??? I want a firm handshake. A handshake can reveal so much about a person! If your hand goes limp, guarantee I am not going to like you! If you shake my hand and then clasp your free hand over mine, odds are you are gonna creep me out, as you feel the need to show your dominance over me, or the exact opposite, I think you are incredible good looking, and I won't let go of your hand, so it is necessary for you to put your free hand on top of mine to pry mine off! If you have a nice firm handshake, I'm probably gonna try and make my handshake slightly more aggressive, but I will like you!
What the flip can you learn about a person from side cheek kisses? Jack all that's what!! What are you hiding for?? Why are you hiding behind an archaic feminine greeting? What is it you don't want me to know??? Congratulations, just by saying hello the wrong way, means I am now suspicious, on edge, and uncomfortable, as I clearly have issues with this form of greeting!
Bottom line is, I am a strong fierce independent woman who doesn't need to side cheek kiss hello. Give me a good firm handshake any day of the week! Fuck the side cheek kiss! It's 2011! Bring it!
The other day I had an important person from one of the companies I work with come into my store to check out their section. They were French, and their company is very prestigious, and I had no desk between me and them. I tried very hard to gauge the situation. I started to go for the handshake, and then decided she was the type to go for a hug. I got ready for a hug, and I went in for it, but she surprised me with the side cheek kiss. I almost recovered without to much of a blunder, and as I pulled away, she went in for the second cheek kiss! I had like 4 feet between us when I realized she was going for that second kiss, so, I had to rush/lean forward and I smushed my cheek against hers, but the damage was done. We were both very aware that I had messed up.
Here's what bothers me about this situation. WTF?!?!? Why can't we handshake??? I want a firm handshake. A handshake can reveal so much about a person! If your hand goes limp, guarantee I am not going to like you! If you shake my hand and then clasp your free hand over mine, odds are you are gonna creep me out, as you feel the need to show your dominance over me, or the exact opposite, I think you are incredible good looking, and I won't let go of your hand, so it is necessary for you to put your free hand on top of mine to pry mine off! If you have a nice firm handshake, I'm probably gonna try and make my handshake slightly more aggressive, but I will like you!
What the flip can you learn about a person from side cheek kisses? Jack all that's what!! What are you hiding for?? Why are you hiding behind an archaic feminine greeting? What is it you don't want me to know??? Congratulations, just by saying hello the wrong way, means I am now suspicious, on edge, and uncomfortable, as I clearly have issues with this form of greeting!
Bottom line is, I am a strong fierce independent woman who doesn't need to side cheek kiss hello. Give me a good firm handshake any day of the week! Fuck the side cheek kiss! It's 2011! Bring it!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
sex in Hotels- the 5th one
sex in Hotels
There is no mistaking that familiar sound. It may be in a movie, on TV, your parent's bedroom (although, not mine- my sisters and I came from the stork. End of story!) The moans and groans coming from somewhere other then your bedroom, or car, or public restroom of choice, are unmistakable, and depending on whom you are with, a lot of fun!
Every time I stay in a hotel I am reminded of that Michael J Fox movie (I think Doc Hollywood) where he had those neighbors that did it all the time. Fortunately, I don't think I have ever had that problem, until 2 weekends ago. I spent that weekend in a hotel in ....Vancouver.... with my parents. We were there to watch my sister race in a triathlon. Well, the second night we were there, it was Saturday night/Sunday morning at 3am, when I woke to those familiar noises. Since I was not to sure if I was dreaming or not, I woke myself up fully, and I was right, our hotel neighbors were having headboard banging sex.
Normally, if I were with my sisters, or friends, I would have woken everyone up so we could all have a giggle. But I was with my parents… My Mormon parents in the bed next to me. Awkward!!!!!! When the noises finally stopped I let out a silent sigh of relief, unfortunately for me, (fortunate for them) it started right back up again. What I thought was the finale, was only a brief position change…one of many. –Side note, way to go!!!!- I resorted to turning my I-pod on full, settling into IllScarlett, and chortled myself to sleep. Yes, I said chortled. It is way more fun than plain old laughing!
The whole point to this is that when you think about it, I mean really think about it, we don't know much about the hotel rooms that we stay in. Your neighbors having sex is entertaining, but if you take that thought one step further, how many people have done it in your hotel room?? How clean is your bed? Did they actually change the blankets? How the heck did that mark get on the ceiling- or in my case, dent???
We really don't know much about these rooms. I think hostels have the right idea. Bring your own bed sheet, that way you know exactly what you are getting into-literally! Although I suppose if you want to make your own hotel moans and groans, it may not work that well… It's just that when you think about it, we spend some of our most intimate, vulnerable and relaxing moments in these rooms, and yet we know nothing about them. Perhaps we aren't meant to think things like this. Perhaps we are supposed to just do without thinking. So go ahead, unthink it, if you can!!
There is no mistaking that familiar sound. It may be in a movie, on TV, your parent's bedroom (although, not mine- my sisters and I came from the stork. End of story!) The moans and groans coming from somewhere other then your bedroom, or car, or public restroom of choice, are unmistakable, and depending on whom you are with, a lot of fun!
Every time I stay in a hotel I am reminded of that Michael J Fox movie (I think Doc Hollywood) where he had those neighbors that did it all the time. Fortunately, I don't think I have ever had that problem, until 2 weekends ago. I spent that weekend in a hotel in ....Vancouver.... with my parents. We were there to watch my sister race in a triathlon. Well, the second night we were there, it was Saturday night/Sunday morning at 3am, when I woke to those familiar noises. Since I was not to sure if I was dreaming or not, I woke myself up fully, and I was right, our hotel neighbors were having headboard banging sex.
Normally, if I were with my sisters, or friends, I would have woken everyone up so we could all have a giggle. But I was with my parents… My Mormon parents in the bed next to me. Awkward!!!!!! When the noises finally stopped I let out a silent sigh of relief, unfortunately for me, (fortunate for them) it started right back up again. What I thought was the finale, was only a brief position change…one of many. –Side note, way to go!!!!- I resorted to turning my I-pod on full, settling into IllScarlett, and chortled myself to sleep. Yes, I said chortled. It is way more fun than plain old laughing!
The whole point to this is that when you think about it, I mean really think about it, we don't know much about the hotel rooms that we stay in. Your neighbors having sex is entertaining, but if you take that thought one step further, how many people have done it in your hotel room?? How clean is your bed? Did they actually change the blankets? How the heck did that mark get on the ceiling- or in my case, dent???
We really don't know much about these rooms. I think hostels have the right idea. Bring your own bed sheet, that way you know exactly what you are getting into-literally! Although I suppose if you want to make your own hotel moans and groans, it may not work that well… It's just that when you think about it, we spend some of our most intimate, vulnerable and relaxing moments in these rooms, and yet we know nothing about them. Perhaps we aren't meant to think things like this. Perhaps we are supposed to just do without thinking. So go ahead, unthink it, if you can!!
Pretentious- my 4th blog- this was in 2008!
Pretentious
Today I am pretentious!!!
You may be asking why, well, I am pretentious for several reasons. I am sitting in a Starbucks- Drinking a specialized- made just for me- coffee (a hot chocolate with a non fat caramel shot- Shut up!!! I know it's not that pretentious, but it looks that way with its deceptively foam-like whip cream and chocolate drizzled perfectly on top!!) and I am writing. I am also on vacation while I am writing this, so I have a pretentious hat trick! I am pretentiously squared! I am the captain of the pretentious squad!!
I suppose my level of pretentiousness it taken down a notch because my hot chocolate is kinda gross, and I do write like a grade five boy; I'm left-handed, I can't help it!! (note: this was hand written while I was away last week!!- editors italicized note!! PRETENTIOUS!!!) But my over priced apple fritter counter acts the above two points.
There really is no reason for this blog. I just decided that since my backpack is resting against the table, giving the air that I do this for a living…. Sorry, cute guys just walked in. I'm pretentious, I can lose my train of thought and write that fact down!!! Oh yeah, backpack, it's facing so no one can see the Scoobie-Doo keychain or my Connect 4 game keychain. I have my cell phone out on the table as though I am expecting an important phone call….. More Cute boys!!!
Anyway, today I am pretentious! I went to the art gallery. True, the main exhibit was about the art of comics, video games, and anime, but I was still in an art gallery! I am writing in a notebook from the one of a kind craft show, pausing every so often to look to the sky for inspiration with the end of my pen in my mouth, sighing dramatically, as though I am struggle for the perfect combination of words.
In fact, I am so pretentious today (sitting in the comfy chair at Starbucks) drinking my specialized drink that I have barely noticed the earring lying on the floor. I'm too pretentious to care!! I'm sitting in a nice warm Starbucks, laughing at all the people walking by in the rain. I know I will have to walk in the rain soon, but right now I am not, and what makes that even more pretentious is that I can leave whenever I want, because I am from Toronto, and I am on vacation- (I thought anyone from Canado, who is from outside Toronto would get a kick out of that!! :o)
I can't stop thinking about that stupid earring!! A pretentious person wouldn't care!! Who cares if it was a gift, or a family heirloom? Okay, I'll make a pretentious compromise, if it is still there when I leave, I'll wrap it in a napkin, and give it to the barista. I'm pretentious, I have a barista!!
I suppose I should write some poetry or something, because as a pretentious person, I realize that's what pretentious people do. In fact I'm so pretentious, I'm going to force you to read some bad poetry..
Umbrellas crashing
Like wakes of a choppy bay
Pitter patter sounds of raindrops
Rolling off my plaid Burberry umbrella
I shake it
Once
Twice
And feel my emotions slip away with each shake
See, pretentious!! :o)
Today I am pretentious!!!
You may be asking why, well, I am pretentious for several reasons. I am sitting in a Starbucks- Drinking a specialized- made just for me- coffee (a hot chocolate with a non fat caramel shot- Shut up!!! I know it's not that pretentious, but it looks that way with its deceptively foam-like whip cream and chocolate drizzled perfectly on top!!) and I am writing. I am also on vacation while I am writing this, so I have a pretentious hat trick! I am pretentiously squared! I am the captain of the pretentious squad!!
I suppose my level of pretentiousness it taken down a notch because my hot chocolate is kinda gross, and I do write like a grade five boy; I'm left-handed, I can't help it!! (note: this was hand written while I was away last week!!- editors italicized note!! PRETENTIOUS!!!) But my over priced apple fritter counter acts the above two points.
There really is no reason for this blog. I just decided that since my backpack is resting against the table, giving the air that I do this for a living…. Sorry, cute guys just walked in. I'm pretentious, I can lose my train of thought and write that fact down!!! Oh yeah, backpack, it's facing so no one can see the Scoobie-Doo keychain or my Connect 4 game keychain. I have my cell phone out on the table as though I am expecting an important phone call….. More Cute boys!!!
Anyway, today I am pretentious! I went to the art gallery. True, the main exhibit was about the art of comics, video games, and anime, but I was still in an art gallery! I am writing in a notebook from the one of a kind craft show, pausing every so often to look to the sky for inspiration with the end of my pen in my mouth, sighing dramatically, as though I am struggle for the perfect combination of words.
In fact, I am so pretentious today (sitting in the comfy chair at Starbucks) drinking my specialized drink that I have barely noticed the earring lying on the floor. I'm too pretentious to care!! I'm sitting in a nice warm Starbucks, laughing at all the people walking by in the rain. I know I will have to walk in the rain soon, but right now I am not, and what makes that even more pretentious is that I can leave whenever I want, because I am from Toronto, and I am on vacation- (I thought anyone from Canado, who is from outside Toronto would get a kick out of that!! :o)
I can't stop thinking about that stupid earring!! A pretentious person wouldn't care!! Who cares if it was a gift, or a family heirloom? Okay, I'll make a pretentious compromise, if it is still there when I leave, I'll wrap it in a napkin, and give it to the barista. I'm pretentious, I have a barista!!
I suppose I should write some poetry or something, because as a pretentious person, I realize that's what pretentious people do. In fact I'm so pretentious, I'm going to force you to read some bad poetry..
Umbrellas crashing
Like wakes of a choppy bay
Pitter patter sounds of raindrops
Rolling off my plaid Burberry umbrella
I shake it
Once
Twice
And feel my emotions slip away with each shake
See, pretentious!! :o)
The Squirrel Incident- my third blog
The Squirrel Incident
I have often joked about how I should write a sitcom about my family. I already know I would cast Kelsey Grammer as my father. He would be so perfect. The expressions, the attitude, the hair line… The fact of the matter is, I have a quirky family. It is functionally dysfunctional. We have a golden child, churchgoers, insane animals, cars that never move, and a house that's continually under construction.
With all the mayhem that goes on in my house (did I mention that my father once fixed up one of his cars so well, that he had to drive it home in reverse, on highway???) I think my first episode would be about Squirrel. Squirrel, thankfully, wasn't around long enough to get a name. Squirrel was a part of my life for less then 24 hours, yet he is a perfect example of my house, and my family.
Squirrel and I met one Wednesday evening, when I was home alone. My parents were at church, and my sister was out for dinner with some friends. I was in the basement kitchen making a blue menu hamburger, (with my George Foreman grill) when I suddenly heard a noise. Now I assumed my sister was home, and when I heard another noise, part of me had hoped she had brought a dog home, as I heard scratch click, click, click, scratch on the floor above. I called out to her, and I went up the stairs. As I entered the main hallway, I turned to go up the next flight of stairs, and there he was, just staring at me, daring me to get him. He kinda reminded me of the squirrel in the e-mail with the really big "nuts". Not that he had big ones, (maybe he did, I can't say I noticed) he had that stance, and attitude….
I ran back down the stairs, calling everyone and anyone who would listen from my household. My parents told me to chill, and my sister didn't answer. While I was on the phone, all I could hear were things crashing to the floor, things spilling, and general thumps. I opened all the doors and windows, and after a while I didn't hear from squirrel, so we shut everything back up. (at this point the rest of my family was home.)
I think I need to add a little bit of back story right hear, as it helps to explain what happens next. I am currently sleeping in the living room, as we are having a bit of a mice problem in our house. My bedroom is in the basement, and that is where the mice are. Being a functionally dysfunctional family, we don't want to kill the mice. And since it was winter, we felt bad forcing them outside, where there was a big possibility that they wouldn't survive. So, the mice lived in the basement for the winter. One day I was doing my laundry, and I fell asleep on my duvet, which had no cover on it. I woke up, because I thought I felt something under my face, when I lifted my head, my duvet was moving…. There were fucking mice in my duvet!!! That was when I moved out of the basement, and into the living room to sleep.
Cut back to Squirrel. After the whole kafuffle, I went to bed, and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, I thought I felt something poke at my leg. I rolled over, and there was Squirrel, taking off down the hallway!!!! Squirrel was in my bed!! I may have slept with Squirrel!!! Once again all of the windows and doors were opened in our house, and I had a very long, hot shower!!! My blankets and sheets were thrown in the wash (twice!), and after a long day, Squirrel was really gone. Our house went back to normal (well as normal as our house can be!!) and squirrel, is nowhere to be found.
That my friends, is episode 1 of the Black Family Household.
I have often joked about how I should write a sitcom about my family. I already know I would cast Kelsey Grammer as my father. He would be so perfect. The expressions, the attitude, the hair line… The fact of the matter is, I have a quirky family. It is functionally dysfunctional. We have a golden child, churchgoers, insane animals, cars that never move, and a house that's continually under construction.
With all the mayhem that goes on in my house (did I mention that my father once fixed up one of his cars so well, that he had to drive it home in reverse, on highway???) I think my first episode would be about Squirrel. Squirrel, thankfully, wasn't around long enough to get a name. Squirrel was a part of my life for less then 24 hours, yet he is a perfect example of my house, and my family.
Squirrel and I met one Wednesday evening, when I was home alone. My parents were at church, and my sister was out for dinner with some friends. I was in the basement kitchen making a blue menu hamburger, (with my George Foreman grill) when I suddenly heard a noise. Now I assumed my sister was home, and when I heard another noise, part of me had hoped she had brought a dog home, as I heard scratch click, click, click, scratch on the floor above. I called out to her, and I went up the stairs. As I entered the main hallway, I turned to go up the next flight of stairs, and there he was, just staring at me, daring me to get him. He kinda reminded me of the squirrel in the e-mail with the really big "nuts". Not that he had big ones, (maybe he did, I can't say I noticed) he had that stance, and attitude….
I ran back down the stairs, calling everyone and anyone who would listen from my household. My parents told me to chill, and my sister didn't answer. While I was on the phone, all I could hear were things crashing to the floor, things spilling, and general thumps. I opened all the doors and windows, and after a while I didn't hear from squirrel, so we shut everything back up. (at this point the rest of my family was home.)
I think I need to add a little bit of back story right hear, as it helps to explain what happens next. I am currently sleeping in the living room, as we are having a bit of a mice problem in our house. My bedroom is in the basement, and that is where the mice are. Being a functionally dysfunctional family, we don't want to kill the mice. And since it was winter, we felt bad forcing them outside, where there was a big possibility that they wouldn't survive. So, the mice lived in the basement for the winter. One day I was doing my laundry, and I fell asleep on my duvet, which had no cover on it. I woke up, because I thought I felt something under my face, when I lifted my head, my duvet was moving…. There were fucking mice in my duvet!!! That was when I moved out of the basement, and into the living room to sleep.
Cut back to Squirrel. After the whole kafuffle, I went to bed, and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, I thought I felt something poke at my leg. I rolled over, and there was Squirrel, taking off down the hallway!!!! Squirrel was in my bed!! I may have slept with Squirrel!!! Once again all of the windows and doors were opened in our house, and I had a very long, hot shower!!! My blankets and sheets were thrown in the wash (twice!), and after a long day, Squirrel was really gone. Our house went back to normal (well as normal as our house can be!!) and squirrel, is nowhere to be found.
That my friends, is episode 1 of the Black Family Household.
Jose- my second blog
Jose
My Car, is in my opinion the best car in the world. It has some special features, tons of action figures, and he has magical powers!!! I know, I know, most cars are she's, like Betty, Sue Ellen, Lady Jane. My Car is definitely a he, and he's gay. He is Fabulous, and self aware! He isn't afraid to stand out in a crowd, and I love him!!
Jose, that's my cars name, is a 2000 sand mecca Protégé, and he has gotten me through so many situations that I probably shouldn't have gotten out of alive!! Crazy snowstorms, torrential downpours, fog, you name it, Jose has gotten me through it alive!!
You may be wondering where his name came from, well, I'll tell you. There is this Mexican restaurant on the Danforth (I know, in the heart of Greek town, I go to a Mexican restaurant!) and there was the best waiter in the world working there. His name is Jose. He always has a smile, remembers everyone's names and drinks, and he has sass! I thought what better way to pay tribute to him then to name my car after him! Now that you have some history about my car, I'll get into what prompted this blog.
Last week, I was visiting my friend in her downtown condo, as I was leaving, I went to Jose, and as I was getting in, I noticed the Ferrari, parked two spots over. It was fire engine red, and in true car standards, beautiful. But I didn't care. My car may have a few dents, it may have a spare tire right now, and there may be a few scratches, but my car can do something that a Ferrari can't do, and that is turn invisible. Yes, I know that sounds bizarre, but ask all the other cars on the road, Jose can magically turn invisible! It's amazing!!! I'll be driving along the road, and suddenly cars are cutting my off, trying to pull into the lane right where I am, they make left hand turns, even though I am driving through the intersection, and they come right up behind me as though they believe they can drive right through my car!!
The problem with the ability that my car has is that it seems to turn it on and off, and I can't control it. The more I try to figure it out, the more I seem to stay invisible!! I have noticed that around full moons, the power seems to be stronger, and it is weather affected, like when it rains, it happens, or when it snows it definitely happens!
I believe that this power is a gift that I have to protect and take care of. You never know when I will be called into action. I kind of envision myself as a modern day Wonder Woman. Granted her invisible transportation could fly, but who's to say my car won't develop that power over time? So, until then, I am content, and privileged, to drive Jose!
My Car, is in my opinion the best car in the world. It has some special features, tons of action figures, and he has magical powers!!! I know, I know, most cars are she's, like Betty, Sue Ellen, Lady Jane. My Car is definitely a he, and he's gay. He is Fabulous, and self aware! He isn't afraid to stand out in a crowd, and I love him!!
Jose, that's my cars name, is a 2000 sand mecca Protégé, and he has gotten me through so many situations that I probably shouldn't have gotten out of alive!! Crazy snowstorms, torrential downpours, fog, you name it, Jose has gotten me through it alive!!
You may be wondering where his name came from, well, I'll tell you. There is this Mexican restaurant on the Danforth (I know, in the heart of Greek town, I go to a Mexican restaurant!) and there was the best waiter in the world working there. His name is Jose. He always has a smile, remembers everyone's names and drinks, and he has sass! I thought what better way to pay tribute to him then to name my car after him! Now that you have some history about my car, I'll get into what prompted this blog.
Last week, I was visiting my friend in her downtown condo, as I was leaving, I went to Jose, and as I was getting in, I noticed the Ferrari, parked two spots over. It was fire engine red, and in true car standards, beautiful. But I didn't care. My car may have a few dents, it may have a spare tire right now, and there may be a few scratches, but my car can do something that a Ferrari can't do, and that is turn invisible. Yes, I know that sounds bizarre, but ask all the other cars on the road, Jose can magically turn invisible! It's amazing!!! I'll be driving along the road, and suddenly cars are cutting my off, trying to pull into the lane right where I am, they make left hand turns, even though I am driving through the intersection, and they come right up behind me as though they believe they can drive right through my car!!
The problem with the ability that my car has is that it seems to turn it on and off, and I can't control it. The more I try to figure it out, the more I seem to stay invisible!! I have noticed that around full moons, the power seems to be stronger, and it is weather affected, like when it rains, it happens, or when it snows it definitely happens!
I believe that this power is a gift that I have to protect and take care of. You never know when I will be called into action. I kind of envision myself as a modern day Wonder Woman. Granted her invisible transportation could fly, but who's to say my car won't develop that power over time? So, until then, I am content, and privileged, to drive Jose!
The Irony of Ginkgo Biloba- this was my first blog ever written
The Irony of Ginkgo Biloba
I have heard about all the amazing things that Ginkgo Biloba can do for you. So about 2 years ago, I decided that since I was having so many issues with my memory, I should start taking it. I fantasized about remembering where my passport was, remember what that song on the radio was, and remember to do my laundry before I got down to my very last pair of underwear (you know, the underwear that everyone wears while doing their laundry) and having to wear it, holes and all, to work, and then out to dinner after….
The first time I tried to purchase these miracle pills, I forgot. The second time I tried to purchase them, I had written it on a note, and stuck the note in my uniform pocket, confident in my ability that at some point in time, I would reach into my pocket, and grab the note. (an important side note in this story, is that I am a cosmetician at Shoppers Drug Mart, I was only steps away from my dreams coming true 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.) After about two weeks of this, I opted to write it on my hand, surely even if I didn't read my hand, someone else would, they always do!!
About a month later, I was scanning a customer through, and they had it in their basket, and the light bulb went off!! I ran to the healthy living section, Queens "We Are The Champions" playing in my mind, I scanned the vitamins –cod liver oil, zinc, vitamin C, and there it was, Ginkgo Biloba!! I grabbed the second bottle in, and walked triumphantly back to my cosmetic counter, placing the bottle in the drawer, beside my water, so I could purchase it, at the end of my shift.
Three weeks later, I finally remembered to purchase it.
Now, you can imagine the excitement that went through my mind! I was but one sleep away from my dream of almost 3 months, finally surfacing!! When I woke up the next morning, I was late, no time to take the pill, no time to even think of taking the pill! Oh well, I convinced myself I would remember when I got home from work, I would take my first glorious dose of Ginkgo Biloba. Well, that day came and went, as did several others, and I still could not remember to take the stupid pills. Every time I would think about them, I would be somewhere that the pills weren't, you know, at work, in a movie, on stage.
And that's when I got to thinking. How ironic is it that you have to remember to take the Ginkgo Biloba to fix your memory, but can't remember to take to silly pills. It's now 2 years later, and do you think I can remember where I put the stupid bottle???
I have heard about all the amazing things that Ginkgo Biloba can do for you. So about 2 years ago, I decided that since I was having so many issues with my memory, I should start taking it. I fantasized about remembering where my passport was, remember what that song on the radio was, and remember to do my laundry before I got down to my very last pair of underwear (you know, the underwear that everyone wears while doing their laundry) and having to wear it, holes and all, to work, and then out to dinner after….
The first time I tried to purchase these miracle pills, I forgot. The second time I tried to purchase them, I had written it on a note, and stuck the note in my uniform pocket, confident in my ability that at some point in time, I would reach into my pocket, and grab the note. (an important side note in this story, is that I am a cosmetician at Shoppers Drug Mart, I was only steps away from my dreams coming true 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.) After about two weeks of this, I opted to write it on my hand, surely even if I didn't read my hand, someone else would, they always do!!
About a month later, I was scanning a customer through, and they had it in their basket, and the light bulb went off!! I ran to the healthy living section, Queens "We Are The Champions" playing in my mind, I scanned the vitamins –cod liver oil, zinc, vitamin C, and there it was, Ginkgo Biloba!! I grabbed the second bottle in, and walked triumphantly back to my cosmetic counter, placing the bottle in the drawer, beside my water, so I could purchase it, at the end of my shift.
Three weeks later, I finally remembered to purchase it.
Now, you can imagine the excitement that went through my mind! I was but one sleep away from my dream of almost 3 months, finally surfacing!! When I woke up the next morning, I was late, no time to take the pill, no time to even think of taking the pill! Oh well, I convinced myself I would remember when I got home from work, I would take my first glorious dose of Ginkgo Biloba. Well, that day came and went, as did several others, and I still could not remember to take the stupid pills. Every time I would think about them, I would be somewhere that the pills weren't, you know, at work, in a movie, on stage.
And that's when I got to thinking. How ironic is it that you have to remember to take the Ginkgo Biloba to fix your memory, but can't remember to take to silly pills. It's now 2 years later, and do you think I can remember where I put the stupid bottle???
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