Thursday, June 30, 2005

Having an ADD kind of week...

Sometimes I really hate my ADD. Somedays I love it-I'm creative, interesting, fun, weird and a little loopy. Other days, when I can seem to talk straight, and I can't get crap together enough to do any work, I can't stand it.

Then there's grocery day.

To a person with ADD, walking into the grocery store is sorta like a normal person taking LSD and wandering into CasinoRama. Noise, lights, people, possibility, things you want, things you have, smells, textures. It becomes this overwhelming wave of sense that you can't get a grip on. It's like trying to hold a wet cat: Impossible and possibly life threatening.

Unless I am super rigid controlled, I CANNOT handle the grocery store. Witness my last trip (the groceries also occur on a Friday evening after work, so I'm usually also in a GREAT mood). Things were ok, aside from there being too many people in there, which was distracting me from the task at hand, as I attempted to negotiate the aisles, not get in the way, make eyes at cute babies, be friendly, etc, etc. I was holding up. Someone called my name, but I ignored it. Unless I plan and ask for someone to come with me, meaning I can alter how I attack the groceries, I DO NOT want to run into anyone.

I get a few aisles in. It isn't great, but since I"m also dog tired, it's as good as it gets. Then it happens.

Someone finds me. Now I don't mind who it is-a friends sister in law who just had her son (who she was told was a girl-now THAT'S a funny story), and she wants to talk, and that's cool. But having this happen in the grocery store (near the condoms of all places)

Here's what this does to someone with ADD. You know how most of you might make a list to plan your day at work? Imagine someone taking your list, and eating it. Suddenly not only do you not have a plan of attack, you have no idea what you're supposed to be doing. Your mind is blank, with the panicy thought that you are meant to be doing something.

The the Dorf calls to ask what I want for dinner. I don't know! I can barely keep the conversation going, and I can tell she can see my issues. Then she proceeds to walk through half the store with me, so what goes in the cart? NOTHING. A bunch of unrelated crap.

I want to be one of those women who shop by meals, I really do and I'm really trying. But it's hard, doubly hard while trying to have a normal conversation and remember what we need and what we want and do it in a hurry because the Dorf has to work and the kids will be home from the sitter and....

that's an ADD nightmare. It SUCKS ASS. And all the Ritalin in the world doesn't help. I love doing the groceries on a Tuesday afternoon-no one is there, I can take my time, I can do it right. And I really did want to talk to that girl it was just terrible timing. (She has a beautiful son btw-perhaps a BF for Rosalyn someday)

Too top it off, I forget to buy diapers for Vivian and formula for Rosalyn. I forgot FOOD for my child. AND I walked right by it, but for some reason, I thought "we don't need it". So to add to the fact that I already feel brain dead, I get yelled at for forgetting this. He apologizes after he calms down, but it frustrates the Dorf, dealing with this. He can't understand it, so he gets mad, and I feel even more stupid and I feel terrible for forgetting FORMULA and mad at myself for not being able to breastfeed and I feel stupid for having this fucked up brain and I just sit there crying, wishing sometimes I was dead, because living like this, it's WORK and it's hard and somedays I'm just tired of fighting with life all the time.

That above paragraph? THAT is a PERFECT illustration of a two second thought in my head. Most of all, I feel terrible that I could NOT buy food for the baby. What kind of Mom am I?

God, ADD Sucks sometimes....

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

I need coffee.

HA! I win!

Granted, I had to change EVERYTHING, but the annoying thing is gone.

I tried what you suggested Atom, but that wasn't in the HTML, and nothing else had changed, so I just got rid of it. Now I get to spend my break time adjusting the template...

anyone wanna tell me how to change the backround picture?

I'm so lazy..

Tuesday, June 28, 2005


I will write a real post tomorrow, but can SOMEONE help me fix this fucking thing...out of NOWHERE the post has started this annoying ness-I know it has something to do with the sidebar, but I haven't fucked with the HTML lately, aside from adding two more links...

sigh...I don't have the TIME to fuck around with it, and if blogger help tells me to read the FAQ's one more time...


Monday, June 27, 2005

I'm still here...just kinda melty, that's all.

Funny that April would chastise me for not blogging, since I was thinking about that last night..."wow, this is the first time I haven't posted everyday since I started..." this blogging thing is kinda sad sometimes, but on the other hand, it's currently my only written outlet, this from a person who normally writes prose, and (i cringe to admit it) poetry. (it's not terrible poetry though-it sounds bad, but I do have some talent).

anyway...I haven't been posting because it's been hot as HELL here. On Sat it was 40C with the humidex. And we have crap windows, which lets the heat in. In case I haven't mentioned it, I FUCKING HATE summer. I'm a sweater weather girl. I like to be COLD when I sleep. I'm also affectionately referred to as a "portable fusion reactor" due to the amount of heat I release. So I'm not summer's biggest fan. Oh, and the fact that I burn in 10 minutes (15 with sunscreen) and I get severe heatstroke.

Boy, I LOVE summer.

BUT, at least I've actually entered the pool. I forgot how much I dig swimming. Of course, there is the bathing attire issue. I don't think there is a woman alive who enjoys swimwear. I had to wear boy short underwear and a tank top, since I refuse to spend 100$ on something that will be destroyed by chlorine. And of course, I had to gently remind the dorf that gee, goin gin the pool when I'm getting some dinner cooked, and getting two kids bathed and ready for bed, likely NOT the best choice. I had to gently yell very loudly about that. A few times. Why would he even ask?

The Dorf stayed home Friday night, which meant we got to hang out a bit. Which meant extra sex, which is always more fun when it happens when one or both of us is normally at work. Of course the hickey/bite marks were, as usual, left conviently where I forgot them, and where the Babin noticed them...

I've been really run down and tired as well, likely from eating crap all weekend. My fondness for the Cheese Lovers at Pizza Hut has in no way diminished, despite the yappy and slightly creepy old men delivering the pizza.

So that was my weekend. Exciting wot? Time to go to work soon, so I can blog all week!
Thanks for kicking my ass April! I've been reading all weekend, just not much writing... (God, I swore I'd never do a "what I did" post...but this is amusing enough to not be one of those, right?)

Thursday, June 23, 2005


is having better sex than me. Or so I always feel. Even if we've just had some marathon, meets all my bottomish needs, stopped counting the o's kinda sex, I STILL feel like there is some sex ceiling I'm not hitting.

Does anyone else ever feel this way?

Ooh! can a be rich so...

I can be an asshole. The store was CLOSED. Which, for the rest of the world "O", means YOU CAN'T COME IN.

Hermes should have told her to stick it. I wish I was rich so I could expect the world to treat me differently, THEN blame my race if I don't get my way. Try showing up when the store is open for business honey, just like the rest of us.

And I thought the flag burning bill was pissing me off. I won't even get into that right now.

God.....I usually like her. I wish she'd go spend that money she would have on a watch on ih, I dunno, people suffering under genocide in Africa.... I off base here?

I'm THAT woman now.

2 years ago this day, I was FREAKING out, pregnant, worried about labour, birth plans, how would I be a parent, talking to EVERYONE about it, reading tons of books...

Suddenly, I'm that woman for others.

It's such a neat cycle, and being able to pass on what I've learned, it's kinda cool. My top things:

  • Your body knows what to do. Really, it does. You could go squat in a field, and most likely push out the puppy. It will hurt, but you can do it.
  • It's not pain as you know it. Yes, it hurts, I can't argue that. But it's not "I just chopped my hand off and threw it into some Chili at Wendy's" pain. It's pain with a purpose. Let yourself use the pain as a guide. It's pressure, and it's working with you. Relax and let your body do it's job.
  • Try to avoid the drugs-all of them. For my first, I was induced, and then needed the epidural. I felt weird and icky for days, I progressed WAYYYY to fast(I was only induced because my water broke without contractions, and I was stupid enough to go to the hospital 5 hours after that-I could have waited at least 12). My second, I had NO drugs because I went from nothing to birth in one hour, 50 minutes. Oh, that HURT alright-I will never rid myself of the image of an oyster being shucked as the head crowned and popped out. But I was just fine two seconds after, and I have a better sense of what happened after, and my body recovered quicker.
  • Do NOT blindly follow the doctor. Sadly, many want YOUR birth to accomodate their lives. Mine wanted to induce for the second because she was overdue past the ultrasound date. The ultrasound date said March 1. MY date, based on my cycle, was March 11. I knew that the baby would be fine to 42 weeks, which to me, would occur much later. AND as much as I wanted her off my bladder, I didn't want to interfere. I've never heard of a baby NOT coming out. And on her own time, according to MY calculations, she arrived March 9. DO YOU RESEARCH on methods, drugs, procedures. Come to your own conclusions, with the help of your doctor. For instance, in the hospital where I've given birth both times, the OB/GYN's tell women they don't need birth control if they breastfeed. Which is NOT true, and so the nurses run behind them telling women to NOT listen to that. (in this day and age of women supplementing, it's too big a risk). So educate yourself, and have an open dialogue with your doctor.
  • Enjoy your pregnancy. It's the COOLEST thing you'll ever do. I look at men all the time and say "I can make AND feed people. What can You do?" :)

I wish I was good at science. I'd LOVE to be a midwife.

I'm going to post this on both blogs, since it relates to both parts of me, and I'm WANTING to post on both, and I don't have the topics.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

A question of do over

Karen asked the following about the Dorf:
I'm curious: knowing what you know now, if you could do it all over again, would you marry him?

The short answer is yes. Regardless of his various idiocies, annoying habits and odd hobbies, I love the moron. I found my vows again last night, which I wrote. I still feel this way. This be them...
My words are simple, but there is great love in them.
The way you love me is like my favorite sunrise.
Impassioned, brilliant and beautiful. Our souls rest together.

My hands shall heal you, comfort you, embrace you and engage you; protect you from
words and weather.
Our future is set before us and I will be there beside you, to cherish you and respect you until the end of days.
My words are simple, but there is great love in them.

Not bad for something thrown together a few days before the wedding. I still feel this way when you strip away all the bullshit "real" life throws at us. We aren't perfect, we fight over stupid shit, but at the end of the day, no one has made me laugh the way he does (even when I'd rather wallow), no one has ever made me feel as beautiful or as desired...we fit together like a matched set. We married young, and everyone thought we were nuts. We tattooed Mobius strips on our left wrists in lieu of wedding bands, people thought we were nuts. But I have trouble imagining this life without him. Crazy, considering if I had never mailed the letter I lost behind the dresser, I wouldn't be writing this right now.

But the bigger question is, do I wish I had taken a different path. Somedays, yes. I used to write all the time, and I don't think I was that bad. I wanted to go to Concordia for creative writing. I'll never know if I didn't get in cause I suck, or if I missed the portfolio deadline. But I do know that the summer after high school was a fork in the road. One had love, and this life, the other held my craft, and lots of kitties. I do not own lots of kitties.

I still write, but my words are no longer the only children I have.

That was a tres cool question Karen-thanks for asking!(and I keep forgetting to tell you how CUTE your doggie is! If I ever get around to it, I'll knit him a wee coat for those icky T.O winters!

And I like questions-it fulfills a certain egotism, so feel free. You may have noticed I'm not that shy!

Saturday, June 18, 2005

I knew by the clock on the stove..

you were no longer mine alone.

So I tell the Dorf I had vivid dreams last night, likely due to a combination of Ritalin and finally sleeping through the night again.

"'Bout what?"
"You don't want to know-really. You won't like it."
"Come on."
"Fine." I pause, dramtically on purpose, since he can't tell a story without said pauses.
"I dreamed I was screwing around on you. And didn't care." (actually, I didn't add that-who wants a 3 hour argument on a Saturday night?)
"Did you know him?"

silence decends upon the kitchen.

"oh well. I dream about fucking other people all the time."

thanks dear...

Who's YOUR God?

Ok, since it's Saturday, and it's raining and I'm feeling all analytical and interested again thanks to my happy pills! (3 cheers for Ritalin), I have an extension of my prior discussion on my atheism.

I've always been intrigued and rather envious of faith-the kind of faith that keeps people warm, and keeps that light in their eyes, without weakening them.

So my questions for all of you, regular readers or passers-by:

"Why do you believe? What do you believe exactly? What was the moment when you "faced/met/found" your God(s)? How does it sustain you today? What does your heaven look like?"

I'm trying to answer some rather vague and intangible questions about faith that I have had lately, questions I can't quite form yet. I find the question of faith incredibly interesting-half of me would like to get a degree in Theology to understand all this, which to me, is a slipperier slope than most other questions...

thanks guys

Friday, June 17, 2005

The Terry Shiavo thing

I'm not gonna go on and on and on, since every OTHER blogger in the known universe has, but there is ONE thing that has bothered me the entire time.

According to many of the religous who "rallied" around Terry, it was inhumane and unethical to "play god" and remove the feeding tube.


last time I checked, a feeding tube is not naturally in anyone's throat. I couldn't, and still don't understand how people could argue that "god" had a hand in this, and get mad when Mr. Shiavo wanted to let Terry live or die, without assistance...

Does my confusion make sense? I feel like I'm missing my own point here..

Things I HATE about work.

I need a bit of levity before I go...
  • Bare feet-EW EW EW EW. You're at WORK people.
  • Smelly Food: Do I want to smell your fish? NO
  • Toilet Paper: Apparently, our business is bad since the toilet paper RIPS when you try to pull it out of the holder. And it's transparent.
  • Buck passing: Want something done? It'll take a week, since instead of simply helping, everyone spends their time telling you who else to ask.
  • Personal Conversations: LOUD. What IS IT about groups of women? WHY can't they shut up already?

And there's more, but it's Friday, it's 5pm and I'm GOING HOME!

Thursday, June 16, 2005

God spells Dog.

I'm an atheist. Really. I know that many people always say "Yeah, right-as soon as something bad happens, you'll be gibbering to God."

Nope. never have I gibbered to God since I was a girl, begging someone, anyone, to let my Mom live to see me grow up, have my first period, turn 16, go to the prom. All I got for those prayers was an afternoon wake and a mother in a casket, after watching her die at home.

I sat on my father's spiral stairs, watching convulsions ravage her body. I could feel her leaving me. (I wrote a neat poem about this moment-if I can find it, I'll post it.) She was in horrible pain, so in the long run, it was better. She knew she was dying-she had come home to die a week or so earlier.

She had been a fervent catholic. A drag your ass to church despite the chemo induced nausea, despite the radiation maps on her neck, despite the worsening clausterphobia. And I of course, was taken with her. It brought her some sort of peace, which made me happy. But no one at church, or at my catholic school, could explain why I, an eleven year old girl, would soon have to live without her Mother. No one could explain to me why I was receiving no answers, why I was increasingly alone with my thoughts, as my father was losing the love of his life, and wasn't always "there", and my brother was in his own little world.

I wanted so desperately to believe, to find an answer, to have a reason. Nothing was forthcoming. And I know what a lot of religous people have said: "the answer won't be obvious", "your strength is your answer".

I'm not strong. Deep inside me everyday is a little girl wailing for her Mommy. I fake it. I fake it because I've spent my entire life "being strong". Holding up. Holding in.

And I envy people who have faith. I do. I've searched through philosphy texts to see if I could find the secret, why I didn't have the Belief gene. I've found no answers. I find it so bloody difficult to believe in something other than myself. And it's not just my mom. What happened with her likely sped up a process already occuring.

I tried for awhile, to believe in Jesus, in Buddha, in Mother Goddess, in anything bigger and better than me. And I can't. I read all these other blogs, where I can feel the simple satisfaction and peace that normal religous persons (I WILL NOT go into the zealots at this time) have in their posts. The clarity their lives have is something I wish for, and I can't do. Not only do I have trouble with the god thing from a logistical standpoint, I could never release myself that totally. I believe to heavily that I guard and captain my soul and fate.

But my oh my it looks so wonderful from here. And a large part of me hopes that there was a wonderful heaven for my Mother, and that my Father will join her there.

But I doubt that there is.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Whatever happened to "when I grow up"?

When exactly are we supposed to stop saying "When I grow up?" I still don't feel like a grown up, and I'm almost 30. I don't think it's completely due to the circumstances I had growing up either. I get a sense that a lot of people my age don't feel like adults.

It just seems like years ago, there was a delineation between childhood and adulthood. There were rights of passage of some sort, sweet 16 parties, confirmations. People got married after high school, beginning their adult lives. The expecation was that one would be adultlike upon exiting high school.

Now, many of us are still in school through our twenties. We still get drunk, run around til 3am, sleep in late. Not many get married at 21 and have babies. (Ok, so I got married at 19, and have two kids at 28-but that's different) I STILL don't feel grown up-in fact, I keep waiting for someone to call me out as a faker. I'm not a MOM, not really. I still wear army boots, and my skinny puppy shirt. I still like to dance like a fool in the kitchen, and I like to argue Mac over PC.

What is it that makes us feel like children still? Is it the lack of a cause? Is it the way we were raised in the seventies and eighties? I remember feeling this horrible sense of dread as a child, and just waiting for the "bomb" to fall. Do we only mature if we have something to fight for? I remember being a kid, and not being allowed to call friends parents by anything other than their full name Mr. or Mrs. Jones. Now, I can't imagine telling my kids to call a friend that. I don't feel old enough.

Am I alone in this?

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

OOH! Even more personal details!

Another one...are these the new plague of the internet? No, wait, that would be the Micheal Jackson verdict. (as an aside, it was amusing to watch blogs yesterday and see how many posted the verdict and an opinion immediately after...)

Five things I miss about my childhood.

  1. New School supplies. I can't imagine I'm the only one who is fond of the smell of new pencil crayons in the nostalgic way. It reminds me of the possibilities that used to stretch in front of me each September, and the structured way each school year went. Sometimes I miss that sense of familiarity.
  2. MUD. I used to stick my feet in the best sticky warm mud in my backyard, until it bled up through my toes. I'd sit there in bliss, as there is nothing better than warm mud surrounding your feet on a Saturday morning when you have absolutely nothing to do.
  3. Days that never ended. DO you remember how the days stretched out in front of you like a prairie highway? Getting up in the morning in the summer was always followed, in my head, by "what will I do all day"?
  4. Porch lights. For my mother, the porch light was the signal for "get home now before I have to come find you." It was so simple-two flicks of the light, and you need to come home. I remember how that porch light glowed off the snow at the back of the house.
  5. My mother. Mostly, I miss my mommy, who I onl had for my childhood. I miss drinking the remnants of her tea (TONS of milk and sugar), I miss reading the sears catalogue with her, I even miss going to the hospital with her while she had her chemo treatments. I miss the little girl I was with my mommy, and the beautiful existance she created for me, despite everything.

Apparently, these are the rules: Remove the #1 item from the following list, move everyone up one spot, add your name to #5. You should link to each of the blogs for this to be effective.

Lewies Blog

An Online Diary of Thoughts

Slightly Imperfect



Spin Me I Pulsate

Then choose 4 victims:

Nat @ her site: Honey Nat Cheerios (or whatever it's titled today)

MEGABRAD, the evil mad scientist.

Karen at karentertainment

ATOM at Fairy tale no More


Monday, June 13, 2005

The dog and bunny show

Sometimes, cartoons are funny.

The dorf and I were watching some kids cartoon yesterday, to give Vivian a break from playing and doing other destructive toddlerish things. And we're sitting there, in that sleep deprived blank state, sorta talking to eachother. I think it might have been this cartoon called Farzell's World or something.

Anyway, in the cartoon, the kid is driving this train. Which is cool, cause Vivian is going though a "Trains rock!" kinda phase. The a doggie get placed in one of the train cars. The dog is standing on all fours (this is important). The the kid places a bunny behind the dog. Directly behind the dog's bum. Use your imagination kiddies.

Oh, it gets better.

The train begins to move, and the bunny begins to rock back and forth, making it seem that the bunny is THRUSTING it's pelvis at the doggie.

At this point the Dorf and I were basically in tears laughing so hard, with Vivian looking at us with the "Crazy bastards" kinda look.

Now, it wasn't just that it looked like the bunny was making the doggie take it like a man, but that ADULTS animate this, and there is NO way they would have missed this. Having the bunny behind the dog was funny enough, but could have been missed. There were like 5 LONG shorts of the "bunny in the act".

Just thinking about it is cracking me up...."take it doggie..."


This is crap.

The fact that a country is attempting to censor the internet is bad enough. The fact that Yahoo, Google and Microsoft are helping is reprehensible.

Granted, most of the information on the internet is BS. But people in China have a right to accesible information about their country, about the world, about anything.

It's just wrong. I'm at work, so I can't expound on this, but there's got to be something...

Sunday, June 12, 2005

One day, their prince (or princess) will come. And it might suck.

I hate PMS-it makes me all moody and weepy and sorta simpering. But watching some banking commercial (you know, the ones that show how life "changes" and make you feel guilty that you haven't opened that RRSP yet...) got me to thinking as I sat cradling Rosalyn's head in my hand.

Someday, they will both walk into life with a partner. And they will have their own interests, desires, needs, hates, loves. I might not like the person they love. I might see how it will end, but will remain silent, as there are certain lessons one must learn all by themselves. I will have to stand by, and watch their hearts break.

Each day I understand more and more why my parents sheltered me the way they did when I was young. It's so fleeting, those moments when the world exists only for you, when a grassy patch is the universe in a second, when the love you feel for you parents is all encompassing and pure. I can remember the quantum shift my brain took when the world went from me, to them. When the plane exploded over Locabie Scotland, I remember sitting in a chair, my mother using the curling iron in an attempt to even out the sides. We were watching the news before church. And it was like reality slapped me in the face. I asked her why people did things like that.

I don't remember that she had an answer for that question, and that was the first time that happened. The world suddenly came into focus for me, and it wasn't a nice thing.

I know this is coming for Vivian and Rosalyn, all too soon. I know that someday, we'll be watching them walk down an aisle with that one person who looks at them the way they deserve to be looked at, and I'll see their future, my eyes will open up again to a reality.

That I need to let them go. That I am here to take them to the moment where their eyes truly open, because without that, they would never find the love they deserve.

I'll have to break my heart to let theirs remain open.

Friday, June 10, 2005

When is it yours?

So, when exactly does your body, and how it's treated, become your responsibility? In this article, a 12 year old girl is being taken from her parents since they're refusing radiation treatment for her cancer. She states "no one has asked me what I want, and it's my body."

Does that even matter? Is it a different story since the parents are religous?

I've seen what chemo and radiation does to a person. If my child, at any age, looked at me and said she didn't want to do it, I'd honor that request. It IS her body, and her life.

What right does the state have to dictate how I care for my child in the face of a disease like cancer? What right does the state have to take a child and force treatment on them?

I've been hearing of stories like these a lot, and they upset me. It's ultimately a parents job, and the child's right, to decide what they want. It's bad enough the poor thing has cancer-so let's take her away from her parents, and force her to take painful treatments that might not even help.

Any thoughts?

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Pooch Screwing

Minds OUT of the gutter people...I have another question for y'all.

I've noticed that this blogging thing, and blog explosion, is seriously impacting work. I generally need little reason to procrastinate as it is, and the blogs are VERY helpful on that score.

So what I want to know is what all of YOU fine people are SUPPOSED to be doing instead of screwing the pooch and reading blogs, like mine.

Holy variety Batman!

It was really cool to see what some of you like as a favorite song, those of you who didn't cop out at least...
  • Adore by Prince: Never heard it, but I love the little guy. I love him even more for the story Kevin Smith tells about him.
  • Stairway to Heaven by Led Zepplin. Ugh-school dances. But I do love "Thank You" by them, especially the cover Tori Amos did of it.
  • Looks like rain by The Dead-never heard it. If you're referring to the Grateful Dead, I'm sorry-I can't stand them. Memories of an icky boyfriend, and I was never able to smoke enough pot to make it tolerable.
  • Joga by Bjork: I haven't listened to any of her stuff lately, and I tend to prefer the Sugarcubes era. She does have an incredible voice though. I always liked "The Anchor Song" myself
  • Dress by PJ Harvey: How to choose a PJ Song! I LOVE C'Mon Billy, cause it's fun to sing, but I'm hard pressed to NOT like a song by her. I guess my favorite of hers is off Rid Of Me, but I cannot remember the name of it. It's a guy's name....erg HERGE!!
  • Driving with the Brakes On by Del Amitri: Never listened to anything by them actually.
  • Mean Street by Van Halen: I personally love the David Lee Roth era, and my favorite song would be "Hot for Teacher. which incidentally, was in my head ALL NIGHT LONG. Which is better than the Elmo song I suppose....

I just find it really interesting that such different songs have such an effect on people. My husband, who is a musician-go listen!-doesn't write music based on emotion, but based on effect. His favorite music is liked because of it's complexity, while for me, I need it to generate an emotional response, good or bad. What's REALLY ironic about that is some of his music generates a massive amount of emotion from me. That leads into an entirely different tangent.

I'll post a new question today. I'm trying to tie some ideas together, and this is adding a new dimension to it.

And hey, it isn't a MEME, and I'm truly interested in your answers!

HAPPY THURSDAY! It's absolutely freaking lovely here today...I HOPE my car pool leaves early!

Wednesday, June 08, 2005


Cause I know you're all just DYING to know...

the sick thing is, I KNOW for a fact that..
a: NUMEROUS people stood around all day watching stuff happen or not happen
b: I KNOW those people, and have since infancy
c: Said people are on welfare.

That place where the police tape is? Normal place where my Dad's hot dog cart lives...

..but Canada gets blamed for bad borders

I'm CONSTANTLY hearing about how crappy our borders are, which I'm sure they are to a degree, but come on, look at it! THIS guy gets through US CUSTOMS with a BLOODY CHAINSAW, and no one blinks..but us Damn canadians, we're Satan...

"Nobody asked us to detain him," Anthony (Bill Anthony, a spokesman for U.S. Customs and Border Protection) said. "Being bizarre is not a reason to keep somebody out of this country or lock them up. ... We are governed by laws and regulations, and he did not violate any regulations."

ummmmm.........................I believe that Mr. Anthony perhaps smokes crack. Bizarre is wearing a thong made of live ferrets. Wielding chainsaws with blood OR red paint should likely be looked into....

for the 34,405 time, I"M GLAD I'M NOT AMERICAN!

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

The dots! Posted by Hello

I'm feeling curious today...

And I'd like to know, since I'd like to have more reader participation...

What is your ALL TIME FAVORITE SONG? Name, artist, and why you like it.

Just curious about everyone's favorite music, since music is a big part of my life.

For me, my FAVORITE song EVER is Andromeda Suite by the Legendary Pink Dots. Because it's the most beautiful and heartbreaking song that always reminds me of that sweet melancoly pain when you first fall in love and can't be around them...

so come on people! I want to know you're alive out there! No prizes, but you will receive undying love (maybe....)

Monday, June 06, 2005

Ah work....

You know, I think I do less work at work than at home. Of course, creating and publishing reports isn't exacting by any means. Especially when the reports are currently stating-gee, you SUCKED last month guys....

I hate starting back to work after a leave. You don't know who's "in". (Come on-just like high school, work has an incrowd) You don't know what ANY of the acronyms means. You have no idea if the latest roll out works. You have new clients you've never heard of, so even any offer of "money for going on the phones again" you can't take up. There are TONS of new hires who you don't know, and don't care to.

But at the same time, NOTHING changes. The BS remains the same. The buck passing. The CRAP.

If you haven't worked in a call centre, you won't know exactly what I mean. ESPECIALLY if you work in a department that is 95% female. It's all the things about high school I avoided. Only now, I'm stuck in the middle, and can't get out. It's whining, bitching, moaning. So and so can't sit next to me, we aren't talking, she's mean, she's ugly...

and the creepy diet people.....they SCARE me. Not the ones who jut eat right, and slowly the weight comes off. Impressive, but not creepy.

No, I think of the ones who only talk about food. Food they can eat. Food they can't eat. Food they can make. Food they used to eat.

Gods I hate this place.

I am SO PURTY! Posted by Hello

LOVE! Posted by Hello


we've all got the flu or something...the baby is congested, Vivian is dripping snot (which may or may not be a tooth) and I feel like garbage-fever headache, sore neck, congestion, AND many trips last night to Dr.John....

i forgot about THIS joyous part of having 2 kids...Vivian was never sick...I guess the kid gods are making up for it...and I can't call in to work my 4th day back...

ah, least I can take stuff now. You get so used to just dealing with it when pregnant...


I just watched the remake of "The Stepford Wives" again, and I started thinking....

In certain ways, I wish I could just be a housewife. To take care of a house, and kids, and only do that. Of course, it would be because I want to, but there's something so appealing about staying home and everything being in order, instead of the crumb covered chaos that is currently in vogue in my house.

And so of course, I feel oddly conflicted since I start thinking about how I relate to feminism, and how I'm on some way betraying what many women fought for, blah, blah blah, and THEN...I wonder why it's so wrong to WANT to be a housewife.

I understand some of the prior associations are bad, and I in NO way wish to return to a time when women were treated like chattel. But why do we not look at women who choose being a housewife and/or a mother as happy with their chosen vocation? Those of you with kids know how hard being a mother is-it really is a job. Imagine what the GNP would be like if we could somehow add mothers to it.

But a lot of women look at those who stay home like they've sacrificed their souls. But I think they're lucky to be able to do it. Look at most of us who have kids and work. For the most part, women are still expected, consciously or not, to do the majority of the housework, we're the booboo kissers, the grocery shoppers, etc, etc. We also try to do our jobs, be nurturing, be wives, have friends, and possibly, and interest that has nothing to do with our house or family.

Who's really getting the raw deal here? With my ADD, I find it EXTREMELY difficult to "switch" between persona's, and equally difficult to integrate them into eachother. I want to be the person my kids are around all day, (as crazy as I'd become) since they are MY kids, and should be products of me.

In the meantime, I'll dream about making Italian Creme Cakes and having a spotless kitchen...Dreaming is about all I can do.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

where exactly....

did summer go?

For those of you not in the Maritimes, two days ago it was 29C. today, I doubt it hit 13C.

Wankers. All weatherman are wankers.

Watched "I'll sleep when I'm dead." today. I LOVE Clive. Yummy...

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Loving Thumpy de ThumpThump

My daughter Vivian (aka THumpy de ThumpThump) is having trouble adjusting to lack of Mommy during the week now that I've returned to work. So today, she was the Grade A beef version of a brat, and then when we put her to bed, she SCREAMED "I want Mommy".

I feel so fucking guilty.

Part of me savours every single minute with her, storing memories, faces, moments away in case, just in case,cancer eats me too. It's a terrible morbid way to live, but I wonder if my mother would have done things differently had she known.

Part of me loves this child so much that i can feel my heart burning when I'm away from her. It's fierce and scary and I'm in awe of the fact that I feel this way. I don't want her to ever feel pain. Hell, she fell off the couch and smacked her head on the coffee table, leaving a nice goosebump. My heart stopped, and I was crying harder.

For those of you with kids older than mine, does this only get worse? I don't know if my heart can hold anymore. And I really don't know if my heart can handle it if something was to happen.

And it's not that I'm ignoring Rosalyn. I just really dislike babies. I hated Vivian until 10 months or so too. When do I stop feeling the second born guilt.

"Got enough guilt to start my own religon." (sorry Tori-it applies today)

April was right...

work TOTALLY interferes with blogging. While I might have a chance to read most of my favorites, I'm noticing my ability to comment is drastically reduced. All this so I can write reports NO ONE READS except for my summary blurb.



So I'm still reading y'all.


now the washer isn't working.

l'eau dianne

Before I forget-my bestest friend in the world is premiering her first movie in T.O. on June 18-here's the stats...

Sat June 18
Camera Bar (
1028 Queen West, just past Ossignton
2 screenings beginning at 4pm.

PLEASE go if you're in Toronto! I can't, and I'm sure it will kick ass!

Friday, June 03, 2005

I want sleep

Apparently the baby has a cold, which means she was up every 2 hours last night. I don't think it helped that the sitter let her sleep for 5 HOURS straight yesterday either, so I asked her to NOT do that again. Otherwise the little bugger is fine, just REALLY sniffly, and taking forever to eat.

But you know what they say about summer colds-they never go away.

Haven't really learned much more on that murder-go to the Prescott Journal, under news...My brother found out who it was, but I don't remember the name, but I know I didn't know the guy. Which is too bad since there are many people I would like to see dead in that town.

I'm so tired.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Time to Flog

People like THIS man should be SLOWLY beaten to within an inch of death...brought back, and beaten again. Repeat for the rest of his life.

You might have to register, but it's free and they don't spam you.

Murder in small town!

OOH! My brother, Mr."No life", calls to tell me there was a murder in Prescott! GASP! Actually, it is shocking, because neither of us can remember a murder since I was born....

Waiting to hear who it was. Funny, considering the amount of sexual abuse that's happened there, I'm surprised there haven't been more murders.

When I know more dear readers, so will you. On the QT, very HUSH HUSH..

sorry, I LOVE L.A Confidential!

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

File under "nothing better to do"?

This perfectly illustrates why I'm an atheist

Aren't there more important things to fight, like world hunger, sexual abuse, poverty? Yet they need to attack people for what they do in the bedroom? They believe this is a part of a religion claiming to be loving and peaceful? I will never understand how hatred and bigotry fits in to that...

I wonder what one would find if we looked into their lives?

I am an atheist. Yet I strive to live a very moral life, to raise my children to respect others, to be tolerant and understanding, to just try to be happy, and make others happy. Why is it that 90% of the time, when I meet or see or read about "religious" people, they live a life I would ascribe to a demon?

Back at work

and my email doesn't work, so I'm doing....NOTHING until they figure it out...'s BEAUTIFUL outside too...

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