RIP Benny (03/02/09 - 06/29/09)

Benny was more than just a car to me, he was my first car. He was a dream I had for a very long time. I mean, have you ever wanted something so SO bad that it was the only thing on your mind and you did crazy things and worked really really hard to have it all come together?

Benny was my dream. I can't think of a time where I fought harder for something and stood up for what I believed in, for the very first time (it's all been downhill since then, Benny made me a changed woman!).

Then one day, he was home in my driveway, where he belonged (and yes, we are still talkign about a car here!). I was SO proud. At that point I still was not allowed to legally drive him on my own, but the fact that there was now proof that I fought hard and I won the battle sitting right there in my driveway. It was there that he earned the name Benny, after a Elton John song, mostly because I just pictured myself cruising with the windows rolled down (manually) listening to Benny and the Jets. I don't know why, but it just stuck.

Soon he was plated and I was able to drive him with people who were not afraid to drive with me. Benny had a handle they could hold on to in front of them so I think that helped to ease their minds...a little. We had some excellent adventures but the real fun came once I was able to drive him all by myself.

Benny did have some downfalls like the times we almost broke down while going up hills (Benny was never really one for hills) and the fact that I couldn't fit my Goodwill finds in the back seat without smooshing - well you know what.

I was really just getting to know his "quirks" when from out of nowhere, Devil Deer ruined it all for us. Honestly, I am really lucky, it could have been a whole lot worse, but unfortunate for Benny, as of this morning his time has come and he is now in the hands of...I honestly don't know whose hands he is in but I have been in a funk all day about it.

I didn't cry at all throughout this whole ordeal until I had to sign this:

..and then it was hard, not because I am now officially car-less, but because it was such a long battle and I fought so hard for it and it was all taken back in an instant. Kind of makes things seem like a waste now.

I know this all seems silly, but even crazy girls need something to write about, and this just hasn't left my mind since it happened. Maybe, just maybe, one day Volkswagen will take pity on me and give me a brand new Benny....no? What if I said please? Forget it...I refuse to beg..

PS - That is not true

PPS - I do take donations

PPPS - I really love Beetles. (and by that I mean the car, not the bugs because if I liked the bugs then that would be weird).

Something tells me Pat is not married...

(click to enlarge)

...and yes, I am losing sleep over car shopping again.

boo hoo

Michael Jackson

I can't believe how much his death has affected me. I was just commenting this morning how I know I am getting older because celebrities I knew as I was growing up are starting to die off (which was all stemmed from the news of Farrah Fawcett dying) and then this afternoon another icon of my past, gone way too soon.

I mean, my Barbie used to make out with his Barbie all the time. I hated Thriller because the video scared the crap outta me, but Billie Jean, heck my ringtone was even The Way You Make Me Feel for the longest time!

Of course he was known as wacko, and sure - maybe he was just a little wacky, I mean aren't we all? To be honest, I have always felt a little sorry for him. Not sorry that he was super-rich and had the means to do all the wacky stuff, but sorry for him in a way that he never got a proper childhood. He was SO young when he began his career and he worked very very hard to get to where he was. I'm not excusing him for any wrongdoings, but give the guy a break! It breaks my heart to google his name and find 80% of his pictures are comics of his nose falling off.

I don't want to start some sort of debate about all of this - just my respects. I don't know the whole story, I just know that he was a legend. He was the King of Pop and he wore one sparkly glove and an awesome red leather jacket and I thought that was pretty damn cool.

RIP Michael Jackson.

Guess What?

I came back from my trip to find my baby has officially learned how to ride a two wheeler! I know some people who are 18 and can't ride a bike *ahem* ...this is so awesome. Ignore my shriekys...I was excited! *blush*

Deer vs.Beetle

This is Benny.

Benny had a bad night.

This is the fur of Bambi's Mom.

She had a bad night too.

I'm not gonna lie, I NEVER expected anything like this to happen to me. I mean, I do have bad luck, but this to a car that has already been plagued with my bad luck? Impossible.

I'll give you the short but sweet version. I will spare you the deer jokes, there have been tons of those all weekend and now I'm dealing with the mess that Mrs. Bambi left behind.

So we're driving along, headed to the NKOTB concert in Toronto. I think we were actually listening to NKOTB, and I'm sure I was singing along (badly) and all of a sudden I was all like Step-by-Ste-HOLY CRAP A DEER'S FACE IN MY WINDOW and then a sickening thud.

Honestly, I thought the car was okay. I didn't see any damage and I didn't see the deer (who most likely ran away), but in mid-panic I decided to pull over and check the damage. So I got out on this dark, deserted highway and had a hairy canary when I noticed my mirror was gone, even more so when I noticed the big chunk of deer that was hanging off the "mirror stub" and the huge dent. I tried to open the door to get my friend to come check it out but she was all like no you moron, get in and let's go. I wanted my mirror back but it was way down the road somewhere in the complete darkness...besides I wouldn't want the deer to come back and this to happen to me (by the way, do you guys think that deer was only trying to rape that guy and not hurt him? I thought he was just looking to get some if you ask me...).

So basically, all the damage is on the passenger side. The deer tried to either jump or run into my car (suicidal much?) and didn't quite make it. I'm sure it was sore after that, but it was totally gone when I looked back.

It really could have been A LOT worse. I just shudder to think of what would have happened if the deer had antlers, if I had hit it head on and lost control or if the car wouldn't drive after that.

I've decided I will never drive to Toronto again...EVER.

Happy Fathers Day...

I've never really been one to celebrate Father's Day. I blame it on my psycho kindergarden teacher...well sort of. When I was in kindergarden, our special task for the day was to create a Father's Day card, which is really weird because school ended around that time. Anywayyyyyy, you know when you have a brilliant idea and you get really excited (and in that grade you pee your pants). Well I got really excited and I drew a bunch of hearts overlapping. So my teacher saw this, said I was being silly and told me to start over. That was my first artistic disappointment and I was sad. I think I ended up giving it to him anyway, but to this day I still remember that.

I don't remember any other Father's Days after that. It was never a big deal in our family. My dad, who actually is not my biological father, probably didn't care - until we grew up, now all of a sudden it's all like why didn't you call me on Father's Day? Why did you call me a jerk? Why why why....

As I was saying, my dad is not really actually my dad. I'm not even sure how I found that out. I mean, he was always there for me for as long as I can remember, so if nobody told me he wasn't my dad, I probably never would have questioned it. My real dad was non-existant, all I knew about him was that his name was Mark and he had curly blonde hair (which I later found out was a perm - dudes did that back in the 80's ya know). So I was lucky to have a dad who accepted me (and who didn't have a perm) as his own. I mean, he didn't have to accept me, he could have ran away screaming as soon as he learned my mom had a kid. Although she did have a nice rack and I guess that is hard for some men to resist. No, instead of running away he stayed and he got me a puppy - and then a sister, and then a brother. I mean, I would have been just fine with the puppy, but my dad is such a giving guy so you know... (love you sis!)

He never made me feel like I wasn't one of his own. He guided me through growing up like any other dad, only in very unconditional ways, which actually turned me into a cool person, so it was a win-win, ya know? He taught me how to use a computer, how to dock a boat (and managed not to strangle me when I smashed the boat into the dock and made it sink - although I did end up going home and crying). He taught me all the important things in life like how to talk the dog catcher out of taking our 150 pound dog to doggy prison for running through a restaurant. Just important life stuff.

Even after my parents separated, he was still there. He was the same old dad who would come and pick us up, drive us to Toronto at least once a month and the whole way there he would chain smoke, listen to AM radio and give a lecture that lasted the entire trip. Sometimes longer than the whole trip if you mention you want to be a social worker.

My dad is big and scary, which is nice because I can totally say "my dad can beat up your dad" and actually mean it. He is honest, which I always appreciated, even though there was usually a lecture involved with his confessions, it was good to know he didn't try to hide too much from us (although sometimes there were things we wish he would have hid - like the girlfriend who grabbed his crotch in front of us - right sis?).

Sometime after R. and I were dating for a while, my dad took him aside and poor R. got the lecture about not getting me pregnant. So seeing that second line on the pregnancy test a few months later really wasn't the best timing. R. and I fought for a good week about who had to tell my dad. That argument never actually ended because my mom ended up telling him - and guess what, he was happy - go figure.

Around the same time I got a phone call one night from my "real dad". At that time I was so excited. Life was perfect at that time - R.'s dad had passed away when he was young so I was excited that my child would have two grandfather's afterall.

I was 22 years old. In my mind I was 30. I was so ready for life, everything was perfect, except for the whole cancer thing, we could have lived without that, so to me meeting my real dad would just make things complete. I was 12 weeks pregnant, I met my "father" at the marina where he worked. I remember being so nervous, and I felt compelled to tell him he was going to be a grandfather. The first thing I noticed about him was that he got rid of the perm (good choice "dad"). He was short and had a big bum like me. Just like my mom always said - you must get your big bum from your dad's side of the family - although she was never really sure.

As it turns out, my "father" didn't actually hate children, because he had a litter's worth of children after me - and then he dropped the bombshell that his wife was expecting another kitten kid. So after he mentioned that little tidbit, I figured it was okay to mention my little surprise too. He thoght that was too weird. I wasn't old enough, he couldn't be a grandfather...and I got "the look". Of course I never heard from him again after that. He was the first man to stand me up, and it hurt for a while. Thoughts went through my head that I was too fat, too ugly, he thought I was a moron...but it all came back to that he didn't want to be a grandfather.

It didn't really matter much in the end, I had a father who was always good to me. The baby makin' daddy didn't matter anymore (Hey Maury, give me a call - we can negotiate)

My dad and I do not always see eye-to-eye, and he is always right (how can anyone argue with one hour lectures anyway), but he did a wonderful thing by accepting me as his own - his first child. It really takes a special person to accept a single mother, and also be good to her child.

There really is no bad guy in this story, there is only a coward who never took any responsibility for his child. He had the chance to make things right many times, he was friends with my uncles for my entire life and never once asked. I don't think he's a terrible guy, they were young and he did try for a while - but he is a coward.

So Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there - some a little more special than others ;)

All mine.

He's charming.

He's cute.

He's sweet.

He's silly.

....and he's all mine.

How to scare your mother...

Ugh..he is such a boy sometimes. I would never... ever.... let this creepy crawlie climb up my arm. Let alone have two or three of these little suckers climb all over you. When I was little we used to get a hammer and smash a whole bunch of these little potato bugs at once (hello...sick and demented childhood, remember?). The fact that he so calmly lets this...bug...climb on him is repulsive, but he loves them, I guess that is all that matters.

...unless he brings them inside, then I'm getting out the hammer.

He's Just Not That Into You...

Crushes are terrible.

....but they can be so much fun.

They can make your life hell.

.....or they can make your day.

They can devastate you

.....or give you something to daydream about.

Crushes cannot be controlled, which makes them so much more intriguing. By that I mean, it makes things a little more exciting to have a crush on somebody a little more out of your comfort range, someone you normally wouldn't bat an eyelash at or someone who you just could never possibly be with.

I have always hated crushes, mostly because I am extremely shy, I would never dream of making the first move and let's face it, I need all the help I can get. To me crushes are like dreams, but not good dreams, the sort of dreams you could never reach...like me dreaming of being an astronaut, just not gonna happen - heck, it takes me five minutes to get a joke sometimes.

Another funny thing about crushes is that they can last for a lifetime, years, months, weeks, days, hours (if you're in to that sort of thing) and sometimes minutes - or even until your crush vomits all over your shoes at a party.

Either way, as terrible as they are, they always make life a little more exciting, they give me something to blog about (ha!) and let's face it...one can always dream right? And the funny thing is, they come in all sorts: Bus drivers, air conditioning men, high school music teachers, Tom Hanks, David Duchovny in a speedo, trust me, there is no way of controlling this stuff. All it takes is one little smile, wink, cheekbone, *ahem* speedo areas *ahem* and you're hooked. Sometimes they even happen through conversation. It's like "What? You like red shoes? Me too.." and then you go home and blog about that person because they liked red shoes and them saying that just totally sent you spinning.

Here are a few general types of crushes you can have:

Appearance:

This is the most common type of crush for me (because I'm shallow and superficial). This type of crush is based solely on the appearance of another person. It could be a co-worker, a stranger you pass by daily, friends of friends. So although this person could possibly be a hobo, you are infatuated because they look good.

These would include Hottie Mc B (hot bus driver), hot air conditioning man, hot guy on the bus who just disappeared (I think he died) ....to name a few.

Stars:

"OMG Did you see Robert Pattinson on the video awards last nite!!!" - Get it? These kinds of crushes are very common, but face it, dude doesn't know you exist, and if he does you have probably moved out of crush all together and into stalker mode. Tread carefully my friend, you don't want to end up dead outside Paula Abdul's house....Jus' sayin.

These sorts of crushes could also include David Duchovny in a red speedo, Charlie Sheen in Major League(shaddup), Optimus Prime , Luka from ER, that guy from the "I'm a Mac...and I'm a PC" commercials, Axl Rose in white spandex, totally awesome singers and Harrison Ford.

Something In Common:

This happens when you are working closely with someone on something you both enjoy, whether it be for work, school, recreation...this is also a very common crush.

I can't recall ever experiencing this type of crush. Which is odd. I honestly can't think of one person...maybe because I'm a girl and I do girl things and I don't ever do "boy things"? Interesting. I think I would have to say it's because I'm too weird to share interests with other weirdos.

Crush on an Elder (but not elderly):

Sometimes when you are feeling low and insecure, or if you really like old men, then you will develop this type of crush. Sort of like that one time in high school when I developed a crush on my music teacher, even though he looked like Tom Hanks and was like...oldish.

Dreamer:

When you get so carried away with your crush that you start to change them or make up details in your mind. For instance, if I still had a crush on Axl Rose in white spandex then I would imagine that he would dress more appropriately to have dinner with my grandparents.

Ex-Boyfriends/Girlfriends:

These types of crushes are rough. Trust me. Especially if they are happier than you and instead of gaining weight by eating 10 gallon tubs of Cherry Garcia, they found themselves a new girlfriend, brand new truck, new house.... I will stop now.

Best Friends:

These are another type of hard crushes to have. You feel so comfortable with this person, you absolutely love having them around, but you know if you were to get your feelings over you would lose your friendship. That hasn't ever happened to me. I generally hate people so I'm good in that department.

Crushes on the Taken:

Sometimes you can't help but crush on a married person. You wait on the sidelines, writing notes and sending incriminating evidence to their partner - no, I kid, I would never do that. Someone did it to me one time! Seriously! They called my house and told R. that I was making out with some guy downtown, unlucky for me I was downtown that day, but I wasn't sucking face with anyone...but we got in a huge fight about it. People are so annoying.

...Do you have a crush? Does it end at a crush or do you take it further?

He has the best faces ever...

Just because.

The Girly Girl's Guide to Mowing the Grass...

Mowing the lawn was a huge accomplishment for me. Before mowing the lawn there were probably tears shed over this very subject. Tears people...over the grass. I know...don't laugh.

R. died in the early spring, the grass hadn't started to grow that year yet...or maybe it had and I just didn't notice, either way, the grass was not on my mind. Shotly after he passed away, the grass just seemed to grow and grow. It grew to the point where it was up to my knees. I ended up begging my neighbour across the street (who was a landscaper) to come and cut my lawn for me. That went well, until one time he wanted to be paid with a make-out session, which ended up with his lips smooshed into my storm door - true story. Eventually I ended up stalking kids mowing their lawns for their parents and paying them to cut my grass because I was so incapable of doing so.

So it was a little extreme, the problem was, I was terrified of the lawnmower. The warning stickers all over it, the gas, the oil, the spark plugs, the blades...scary stuff! We all know what can happen in lawnmower accidents. The lawnmower is almost always covered in some sort of hairy arachnoid, so that may be the reason as well....or it may also stem back to my childhood. One time my parents forced me to "rake the lawn". Well I guess I got a little "rough" with the grass and ended up with a lawn full of dirt...I had raked the grass right out of the ground. I think that is what made my parents separate because soon after that my dad moved out and shortly after that we moved out (all the while no grass ever grew back). We did end up renting the house out so my dad bought that roll out grass (sod I guess it's called) and he rolled it out and went home, only to find out the tenants had rolled it back up and sold it to the guy down the street. Anyway, I'm getting off topic here. I'm afraid of lawn mowers. There, I said it. No other reason for not cutting the grass, other than I am terrified of lawn mowers.

I moved into this house two years ago, and it was great. The landlords would come and do all the gardening and lawn mowing once a week. Well I guess they got tired of doing my dirty work because eventually the backyard turned into the amazon and animals started pooping back there so I figured it was time to learn the lawnmower. I lugged that big hunk of junk out and pulled and pulled on that stupid string thingy to no avail, and I gave up. After a few more days of jungle-maddness, I decided I was going to win this battle...and I did, the mower started and cut a strip of lawn. I was so proud, but I couldn't get it started again, broke a nail and called the landlord to come and save me from jungle-maddness.

So you know how that old saying goes..."Teach a man to fish..." well the landlord taught me how to mow. Now I am a mowing champion. I can mow like crazy now, and I'm not even a teensy bit scared of the mower anymore. I thought this was some valuable info so now I am sharing it with you because I'm cool like that.

STEP ONE: MAINTENANCE
So first of all, you have to make sure your mower is gonna start. You know, before we look stupid getting all sweaty by pulling that rope thingy as hard as we possibly can, you have to make sure it has gas and oil...you know so you don't waste your time trying to start it and all.

The oil thingy is very clearly marked. I think you would probably need a funnel or something to get the oil into that little hole. I'm not sure what kind of oil is needed, I've never had to add any so...check with your owner's manual if you're stuck...or Google it...Google has the answer to everything. I always say, when in doubt - Google it!

Now the funny part is, when you open up that little oil cap thingy, you find this stick. Just like in my car, this oil stick tells you when you are getting low. See, in my car when the oil is getting low, I bring it to the mechanic or flirt with the Canadian Tire boys because I don't know how to put oil in. A car is a little different - the explosion would be a lot worse if I made a mistake - so for that kind of stuff I stick with the "pros" or the boys who just graduated from high school last week and got a rockin' job at Canadian Tire.

Still in maintenance mode, let's check our gas. This little cap has a gas tank on it..that means that is where the gas goes. Unlike a car, this piece of crapola doesn't have a gas gauge so you're pretty much in caveman mode here. Open cap. Look gas. Ok good.

STEP TWO: TURN IT ON

So our next step is hugely important. I mean, you don't want to be pulling away on this thing, sweating your butt off for nothing right (trust me, you can't make that look sexy - ever).

See this little doo-hicky, it's the gas turner ony thingy and it must be turned to ON and I'm sure it's a good idea to turn it off when you're done - don't ask why, just 'cus. This little button confuses me, it says "FUEL SHUTOFF" (which I thought should be spelt shut off - anyway...) and you want it "On" to turn the thing on. Maybe mine is just defective, who knows!

STEP THREE: MYSTERY LEVER

Don't ask me what this thing is for, all I know is that it's a pain in the butt.

In order for the mower to start, this lever has to be in the middle, sometimes it has to be all the way down, either way, if it is all the way pointed up, the mower won't start so let's not even go there. Trust me, middle works the best.

STEP FOUR: PULLING

I call this step pulling because there is a whole lot of pulling going on here in order to get this thing running.

First is this little handle bar thing. You see that skinny bar that just hangs there? It has to be pulled so it is touching the big bar, which is really hard if you have little girly hands, and it hurts too, but trust me, it feels good to finish mowing the lawn, the pain will eventually go away. Just remember, if you let go of this handle, the engine will stop - which I think is a safety feature or something so it's kind of cool, but also a huge pain in the butt when you have to pick up a stick or try to save a snail that is getting vibrated off your mower to meet his sudden death (yeah that totally happened today *sniff*)

Then you firmly grasp this puller thingy and pull as hard as you can. Sometimes it helps to pull it closer to the mower rather than away from it (I'm starting to think this should have been a video...). Very rarely will this work on the first try (unless you are Wonder Woman or something). You have to pull HARD. There is no sexy way to do this girls, it is tough work and if you don't do it properly it will hurt for a while so be careful!

STEP FIVE: CUTTING

So once you get this baby started, you have to go back to "STEP THREE" and adjust that mystery lever ever so slighly. If the engine starts to sputter and cut out stop playing with the lever and cut! When cutting, I always try to cut in a circle, which may or may not be totally wrong, but for me it works. Just line up your tire with the previous line and all is cool.

Also please remember while you are cutting to follow all warnings on your mower. It is not cool to run over rocks, big sticks, animals, your hand, your kids, bricks, poop or your shoe...not even for a second. I know it is tempting and all by try to refrain from it.

Peeping M.

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Why I am lucky to be his mom...

Because I get the best Mother's Day presents ever.
This year I got a cute little flower pot with some sort of mystery plant growing in it. I watered it daily killed it within two weeks days, which is actually really good for me as it made it into the house without me tripping up the stairs and the little precious pot smashing to a zillion pieces. Let's just say I do not have a green thumb and two left feet. My plan is to replace it with a fake plant before he notices. I am totally eyeing one of the aquarium plants as I type this and I think I can pull it off.

Because he has the most infectious laugh ever.
He has this sort of giggling/gasping for air thing that he does when he laughs, it is extremely adorable and highly infectious. His laugh can make you smile from ear to ear. Of course he laughs like an old monk, and that could very well be because of his asthma and might be something else for me to worry about in the future, but for now it is the cutest thing ever. You know when someone is tickling you and they won't stop until you pee but until then, and before it gets all awkward because of the piss, you do that laugh that is like huh huh huh...you know because you can't breath....man I hate when people make you pee your pants.

Because his love is unconditional, forgiving and understanding
I'm still surprised that he forgave me for the time I dropped the bookshelf on his ankle and made it bleed and then make him walk the rest of the way home on the same ankle because I had my hands full with the bookshelf and he totally ignores me all the times when I tell him I am this close to shipping him off to China. Not to mention all the times when he has seen me at my worst and never mentions it to anyone, but he does tell the teacher about the time I knelt in cat shit in the backyard - go figure.

Because he knows the words to "Step by Step" and that just makes him awesome.

He even does the voices for "Step One....". He's got talent I tell ya.

Because when I tell him it's not a good idea that he sleeps in my bed anymore because I steal all the covers and kick the crap outta him, (but really it's because he pees on me) he simply says "I don't care, I sleep here because I love you".

...and then my heart melts into a big blob of goo and all those mornings waking up covered in someone else's urine doesn't really matter as much anymore.

Because he is so innocent, he loves everyone he meets and he doesn't have an ounce of hate in his body.

Except for that one time when the bunny bit him and he told me we should let the bunny out on the road so he would get run over by a car. That was a little disturbing. He was totally kidding, I think.

Because he is rich.

If this boy has $10, he is all of a sudden the king of the world. He has no idea as to the value of money, but whenever he does get money all he wants to do is spend it on his friends - but never his mom...go figure!

Because he finished potty training early.
I think I am most grateful that my child was only 2 when he started crapping on the can. Why? Because I find poop repulsive (although the word is hilarious!)

Because he can burp louder than anybody I have ever met.
No kidding. He can let them rip and if there were a contest for burping I am very confident he would take home top prize. The best part of it all, he follows up a big loud belch with "oh, excuse me" afterwards.

Because he makes me feel special.
I could tell him that we are going to be going to visit a manure factory all day long and he would be all for it as long as I'm there with him.

Because even though he lost his father when he was only 15 months old, he is becoming such a gentleman like his father was.
This was something I always worried about. How was I going to teach him how to be a gentleman, or even how to use a urinal (which I still don't know how that all goes down). As it turns out, he is learning this on his own at his own pace and it is working. Next thing to worry about, puberty.

Wordless Wednesday: June 10, 2009

What the effing crap, this angel guy just felt me up!

If you love Keyboard Cat...

...then you probably won't love this as much.



but I think it's charming.

Ard SalB

Okay so his writing skills are still a little bit...shall we say lacking. The kid is an awesome salesman though.

We put up some ads on Kijiji today. Getting off topic here for a minute as I usually do, can I just say I hate about 70% of Kijiji shoppers. You put up an ad for something you paid $200 for a month ago and list it as $50 (firm) and you get jack-asses who reply, "will you take $10" the second after the ad becomes active.

Back to what I was saying, so we put a bunch of Mason's old toys on Kijiji. I put something like 20 ads on and within 1 hour of posting these ads almost half the things were sold. I swear, people would think my house was the crack house on the street with the activity that went on here today.

Mason took this very seriously and when random people came to pick up their treasures, he totally pressured them to buy more! He was like that creepy salesman at Future Shop who wouldn't let me leave until I bought a warranty that covers everything including dropping the camera in elephant poop (I asked). As they were pulling away he was yelling down the street "Tell your friends to come back, this is ____ (blanked out to protect us from the creepers!)street and do you know what number my house is, it's _____".

...and what I originally thought was annoying...totally worked because the kid made $75 today just selling old crap that was in our basement and garage. Stuff that he hadn't even thought about playing with until it drove off down the street, which then he would admit, "I really miss my Thomas mountain playset". The same Thomas mountain playset that sat untouched for 6 freaking months.

I told him that if he lets me sell his old toys like this then we could take a trip somewhere for a day. You'll never guess where he picked?



I know it's the commercial that got to him...he loves that commercial. Even when he was a baby, his little chubby legs would go flailing around whenever it came on. Actually I remember the same commercials when I was a kid, but I didn't have chubby legs and I didn't get excited about many things. Still, I have never been to Marineland, in fact, I'm not even entirely sure where it is or what it involves.

I just have to say this, if a whale touches me I have no problem punching its face. Don't get me wrong, I love animals. I just don't love animals that can eat me whole in one giant gulp. Ever watch Pinocchio? I'm sorry I can't swim, I don't like dying and I honestly don't believe that fire could work in the stomach of a whale...but that's just me.
...and for the record, let's just say that the last thing I would be doing in the belly of a whale is my laundry. Unless I crapped my pants. That could be awkward.

So I guess we may be going to Marineland sometime this summer....and no I won't be touching any whales.

If you thought I was crazy before...

then apparently you didn't know crazy that well.

This is BATMAN. Who so obviously was not named by me. Actually I believe his full name is Batman-Mario, but who really cares.

I suggested the name Pecker, but that didn't go over too well with the 5-year-old. Then as I was driving, thinking of his little face being flung around in the coffee mug box they shoved him into, I thought he looked like a Peter. I pictured myself walking down the street, budgie on shoulder and when people would ooh and ahh, I would say oh him? That's just Pete my budgie, and then I would probably make some pirate joke because I'm cool like that you know.

Anyway, Batman is a pretty awesome bird so far. He hasn't made a peep...which is good because one of his brothers was pretty close to getting a smack down at the pet shop because he wouldn't stop squawking. At that point, I was re-enacting a scene from Dumb and Dumber (which is always a good scene in some foreign language )in my mind and I sort of realized that maybe this bird thing wasn't such a good idea, but the little guy, he was already hooked. Normally that wouldn't affect me so much, because I do have a good head on my shoulders and I do worry about pet issues but the poor little guy was getting picked on by the other ones.

I think it's because he wasn't green or blue. The other birds were all green or blue and they were pretty tight. Batman is mostly white...so the other birds were racist. Either that or it's because he's not so good at...ahem...maintaining a clean tail feather if you know what I mean. Anyhow, like most of our misfits pets, I'm sure this guy will fit right in.

Optimus Prime Is My Hero.

After being forced to eat a very interesting breakfast this morning, I started to think about my childhood. So funny how certain things will trigger some sort of memory. In this case, the memory just happened to be triggered by a Transformers Eggo Waffle.

It brought me all the way back to my childhood. When I was a wee one, I was never into girly things. I never let anybody put a pony tail in my hair nor did I ever wear jeans (until that time when my cousin pulled down my sweat pants and yelled saggers...I started wearing jeans shortly after that). I trained frogs to jump through hoops in my circus kiddy pool, I regularly snuck out of bed and hid behind a big brown chair in the living room to watch Benny Hill and I knew the movie Stand By Me off by heart. I totally preferred my Skeletor's Snake Mountain playset to my She-Ra Crystal Castle. Skeletor's castle had a freakin snakehead megaphone that you talked into. Even back then I knew that was bad-ass and cool. She-Ra's castle had a freakin elevator...HELLO? Really? An elevator?? It didn't even have walls so She-Ra would dive bomb over the side.

...but my most favourite tom boy activity was playing Transformers. I didn't actually have any Transformers toys because most of my toys came from garage sales and the neighbour's garbage. Even though they were used and sometimes broken, I loved each and every toy I had, but when things were cool, like Transformers, there was absolutely no chance of me getting a toy like that, unless I got one for my birthday, but I am a girl and nobody would get me a Transformer toy so I did the next best thing. No, I didn't build my own, I pretended I was Optimus Prime.

I think for the most part, being Optimus Prime really helped me get through some pretty awkward situations, like the time I dropped the entire box of glass china men that my mom bought for my grandma. Each one of their little straw hats broke off. My mom was absolutely livid. While she was yelling her face off at me, I am pretty sure I was thinking "Bitch, I am totally blasting you with my Blaze Blaster Cannon right now and then me and my Autobots are gonna run you and your little glass china men over when we turn back into big ass trucks" You know, because I was Optimus Prime insane.

He didn't however help me overcome my fear of the school bus bully who would eat my Wagon Wheels every day...she was like Megatron times 1000...much too big of a battle over a meaningless snack food.

I remember laying in bed next to my grandma acting out my Megatron battles (because Autobots were tough, yes, but still needed their granny to protect them from the scary Disney velvet paintings that were hung over their beds *ahem*). These battles almost always ended up with granny getting a few swift kicks from my Gyro Strike Leg Wheels.

Eventually as I grew older (and when I grew boobs) I stopped being Optimus Prime. Optimus Prime could never have boobs because he had a big windshield chest. Growing boobs totally ruined my life.

Now Transformers is a pretty cool thing again for kids. Mason went through a bit of a Transformer phase, but he never really got into the whole Optimus Prime thing...which is good because I really can't take the time off work to take him to therapy right now.

Unlike me, I have blessed my child with Transformer toys....but what the crap? These toys are the cheapest crappiest toys ever!! My house is like a Transformer graveyard. I'm finding pieces of Autobots all over the place. Just when I thought they were completely destroyed, I go to the washroom at 3am and end up with Optimus Prime's Blaster shoved deep in my foot. They also make me feel stupid. I can sort of turn them into semi-robot figures but do you think I could ever turn them back into a car? Nope! I'm much too girly for Transformers now, which is sad because I'm really thinking this Optimus Prime thing over again.

Keyboard Cat is my new boyfriend...

For having clips like this, I have decided that Keyboard Cat and I will run away and be married as soon as possible. There will be Vegas, some Elvis impersonators and a gorilla at our wedding and lots and lots of treadmills where you can make your own Keyboard Cat video just like this one that I absolutely adore.

Seriously, I haven't laughed this hard in like 2 weeks..I swear.