Archive Mondays: April 10, 2003

April 10, 2003 (I got a phone call that my grandpa had died. It was a complete shock as we had just visited him not too long before that. He was a really grumpy, old pervert and nobody in the family liked him - nobody - except my family, so it was and still is hard for me to think of him being so alone in the end):

My grandpa's furnace broke one year around christmas, so my mom invited him to stay with us for christmas and he accepted. My grandpa never seemed to be a greatful man but I could see that meant a lot to him even though he was crabby the whole time there. At one point, he told me that he loved my grandma very much. I never heard him say anything like that. So I told my mom and my aunt what he said and things were okay for a short while. We would take Pa out (and he would hit on young girls!) and he would stay over once in a while. I don't know what happened after that, but somehow he ended up in a nursing home after we didn't see him for a few months. This man's home, the home I grew up in, was so bad that it had to be condemmed and tore down. He had holes in his ceiling where raccoons fell through on to his kitchen table and his bathtub was always filled with fan motors. He never ever did anything wrong to me. He was a father figure to me, and although he wasn't the greatest person when it comes to additude he showed me love by bringing me chocolate bars after his poker games or finding me toys in people's garbage and fixing them up so I could play with them.

I loved Pa, but I was ashamed to admit it because my family would all jump on my back and tell me how bad of a person he was. I admitted it to my cousin Michelle and she told me she went to see him a few days ago and he was saying how I owed him money...my mom did, not me, he was confused. So Michelle said we should go see him and bring him fish and chips because that's all he said he missed last time she was there. So Michelle organized it all, bought the fish and chips and told the home not to give him dinner that night because we would be there at 6 to give him dinner. Well we were there at 6 on the dot and there was Pa eating his gross-looking meal. We figured he wouldn't eat anymore, he was almost finished. So the nurse wheeled him into a room with us, and I have never seen anything like it in my life, my grandpa, an 80-year-old man who could get up and run for anything - especially money or women - was in a wheel chair wearing old-people pyjamas and one shoe. I asked him where his shoe was and he didn't know. Michelle asked why he was in a chair and he said the people put him in it - but he can walk. So we thought this was a bit strange and asked a nurse why the chair. She told us, he hadn't walked since he got in the place and his broken hip probably wouldn't heal enough so he can walk again. Pa thought I was my mom, he thought my cousin's kids were mine...he was confused but he kept smiling and patting my face. He ate that whole plate of fish and chips and was so happy that we were there, since he has no friends and my family all hates him. We had to leave soon after that and I felt terrible leaving the guy there. We made arrangements to come again before I went back home, but I never did. I planned on writing to him there or calling him once in a while, but I never could....and now he died and I feel the same way as when my grandma die...why didn't I call or write?

There won't be the $10,000 funeral like my grandmas. There won't be any of his friends to see him off and tell me how they used to remember my grandma pushing me around in a shopping cart. I won't have to deal with the faces looking at me like "you poor thing, your life really sucked". I hate funerals. So did my grandpa, he probably never even went to one his whole life. My uncle is having a party. A "party" that seems unfair. I mean, if there's no funeral, why a party? To celebrate how lonely he was in the end. How he had nobody to care for him or see him once a day. How he had to live with a bunch of old people and probably seen them all die around him everyday and thank god it wasn't him. I just hope he's in a better place now and I don't think I will attend his "Party" thank you.

This is bad, real bad Michael Jackson...

Yesterday Mason and I had some errands to run (grocery store on a Saturday - boo!). We were driving along and this song comes on, that I hardly ever listen to, that I don't really like, that I listen to over and over again:


Not so much sure if the video is totally awesome, or totally hilarious, maybe a bit of both?

In the song, Kanye sings "This is bad, real bad Michael Jackson". Mason, who was sitting quietly in the back seat, perks up and shouts "Michael Jackson is alive???"

Whoa, whoa wait a second here, who told him he died and how the heck does he know who Michael Jackson is? I had to explain to him that people just can't come back to life, unless they are brain-eating zombies. I left that part out though because I wanted to get a good sleep without having someone in my bed grinding his teeth and crying about zombies. You know how it is.

Then I thought wouldn't it be cool if we could bring people back from death without being zombies or evil like that Gus guy in Pet Cematary 2? Who would you bring back? Of course I would have to bring back R. Wouldn't it be strange though. I'm such a different person now, and who knows how he would come back! Like what if he came back all normal and then turned evil in a few years and I had to cut off his zombie head? That would be tragic - plus I would probably go to jail.

I would probably also bring back Heath Ledger. Just because it was so sad and unexpected that he died.

For good measure, I might even bring back Michael Jackson. His family misses him a lot and I'm getting a little tired of hearing about his death on the news. Not only that, if he did turn into a zombie in a few years, he could go on and do a "Thriller" tour and nobody would even know he was really a zombie!

Of course I would have to bring back Elvis at well because I think he would be a pretty awesome dude, I bet he would be a mean-ass zombie though.

This is getting silly now...and I'm afraid of zombies so I will leave it there. Who would you like to bring back to life (even with knowing that they could possibly turn into a zombie in a few years)

VOTE FOR ME!!!! (please)

When was the last time I asked you for something?

Wait, come back!!

Masonville Mall is having a contest to win a super-cool FLIP™! I wrote an awesome little poem, which actually took me hours, and no - I'm not even kidding! My poem rhymes and it is pretty cool if I do say so myself. It may not be THE BEST poem on there, per say, but I do think I deserve it the most. To prove myself to you, I have written 25 reasons why you should vote for my poem:

25 Reasons You Should Vote For EVILFLU:

1. Because I am a nice person!
2. Because my poem is almost as good as this person's poem...(crap, I can't find one better than mine, guess you'll just have to vote for me!)
3. Because my kid is cute/funny and I'm sure I could get some great videos of him growing up.
4. Because I like kitties and I promise to take videos of a whole bunch of cats if I win.
5. Because it would assist in my goal of winning second or third place on AFV (I aim low)
6. Because I generally can take some pretty awesome videos of people singing karaoke
7. Because my mom never loved me (just kidding - sort of)
8. Because I go on crazy adventures
9. Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and gosh darnit I deserve to win
10. Because I sometimes like to vlog
11. Because you like me?
12. Because you LOVE me?
13. Because I have bad luck
14. Because I am very competitive and a loss like this could cause me to go bald.
15. Because I like having hair.
16. Because my birthday is in 261 days, 6278 hours, 376730 minutes and 2603825
    seconds (which is actually not very accurate but you get the idea) and you could totally get your shopping done earlier and get my gift right now...go!
17. Because I live in 'The Hood' and I am sure I could get some awesome footage of a police takedown on the weekend!
18. Because this would be one of my greatest accomplishments (don't laugh).
19. Because you just laughed at me, go vote!
20. Because if I win, we all win - all of us...but like, I get the prize, you get a thank you in my acceptance speech.
21. Because one day I might become famous and then you will be all like "Oh I wish I would have voted for that famous chick in that contest!"
22. Because having a FLIP could kick start my new blog segment I will lovingly call "Interview with a DRUNK Person" where I would go downtown and find a totally drunk person and ask them really deep questions. Just think of how awesome that would be???
23. Because that mall owes me something for all the times I've been there and almost ran over a punk in their parking lot, which in turn forced me to use "potty mouth"
24. Because if I would have had a FLIP I could have prooved that those punks were wrong for walking in front of my car so rudely
25. Because I would probably love you forever and will thank each and every one of you every time I flip open my FLIP.

HOW TO VOTE:

1. Go to this site: http://www.masonvillecontests.com/index.php?visit=mvp69450


2. Enter my super-awesome contestant number into this little box that I subtly noted out for you on the below image. My contestant number is 296
   
   
3. Now sign up to get lots and lots of spam. JUST KIDDING! They ask for your name, age and occupation, but you can BS those answers (but I didn't say that...) and as for e-mail, if you do not feel comfortable giving out your current e-mail address, you could always pull out your Sexy_Simon696969luvfluff@hotmail.com address and put it to good use (...and for what better cause, right?) NOTE: It has been brought to my attention that some of my US friends may not have postal codes. Feel free to use this one N6B 5M7. It is not mine, but you can totally use it because I'm so nice.
4. Make sure you remember which e-mail you entered from because guess what? You can go back 6 hours later and enter again!!! Just think, you could vote for me 4 times a day!!! And...because I'm such a nice person, I will even offer to give you wake up calls in the middle of the night so you don't miss voting!*
   

* - This may or may not be true

Thank you so much everyone! I love you all for voting for me. I promise to make a super-cool video for you guys if I win!!

The Bully Strikes Again!!

My child either has a huge bully target on his back, or he is just an annoying pain in the ass in the bully word, either way, it totally sucks to be him at daycare lately. I'm sure you all remember his little friend "Scotty". Well "Scotty" wasn't the first bully in the daycare, in fact he's not even the biggest or meanest bully, but he is a bully.

The biggest and meanest bully I will hereby name "Jerkface Kid" or JK (which totally could have been JFK but I didn't think that was very appropriate). JK has been a pain in my ass way before "Scotty" ever was. So picture "Scotty", now picture someone 5 times his size, with an annoying/whiny voice, that is JK. I often see JK and his parents out in public and JK's dad always looks at my boobs - but that is a different story.

JK has been picking on my kid since he was 2 years old - freakin 2! He started off biting, and punching and kicking, name calling and now pushing. In fact, it got so bad, they had to separate JK and M. I think it was because my mom told M. to punch JK in the face (she made a point to teach him to punch right between the upper lip and nose). Imagine how horrified I was when M excitedly ran up to JK and said "Guess what JK, my grammy told me to punch you in the nose and mouth like this..." and then demonstrated on himself. Ughhhhh....

About a month ago, JK's dad left him alone in the car, and I told on them (insert evil grin here) because a) it's totally illegal and b) it's totally wrong! I thought it was over, I had my revenge! Even though it wasn't much of a revenge, it made me feel better that his parents got a stern lecture about leaving children unattended.

Fast forward to yesterday. I picked up M. at daycare and as we were leaving the parking lot, he whips down his shirt and shows me this:
I have never SEEN such a thing! I thought it was a burn at first, but he nonchalantly told me "JK pushed me out of the pool at swim time and I fell and bled". Look at that thing! It had to hurt. I can't even imagine how you fall and land on your shoulder, leave it to my kid I guess. What baffled me though was that nobody said a word about it when I picked him up - nothing at all. It was too late to turn back so I figured I would deal with things in the morning.

I went in this morning, ready for a war. I know, I know kids get hurt, but why is JK in M's class again? Turns out the teacher who witnessed it told me everything and also told me that she sent him home. I couldn't believe they sent him home, but they did - apparently. She promised me this was JK's last week (oh boohoo) and that she would keep them separated.

I honestly don't know what it is between those two, they just never could be friends. When we seen JK and his family in public though M always gets so excited. I would shit my pants if I saw the kid that hurt me all the time, apparently M likes the torture.

Back To School Memories...

Mason's very first day of Kindergarten is coming up in a few weeks. He seems to be pretty cool about it, but if there is one thing I know about my child, his mood can change in an instant. To get a feel of how our first week of hell school will be, I decided to ask him how he was feeling about his first day.

Wasn't I surprised to hear that he was actually excited about beginning school. School for me was always a bit of a struggle. I don't remember my first day of Kindergarten, but I'm sure it was hell. The only thing I remember at that age was the older kid that ate my lunch on the bus everyday and the day that I lost my clip-on penguin in the classroom and missed my bus home.

I remember many first days of school. I remember going to school dressed in my new clothes that were always way too hot for that day, because my mom was very thrifty and would buy clothes that would last for the entire fall/winter season. She never took into consideration that it would be 800 degrees on the first day of school. I loved having everything new on that first day, but it never took long for me to get bored and doodle on my pencil case. One year I drew diamond shapes over the whole entire pencil case out of a) boredom b)insanity who knows, it looked pretty awesome when it was finished though.

I was never really a fan of school. Sometimes it was okay, and some grades I really enjoyed, but for the most part it was just such a stressor in my life. My peers were usually okay, but there were always those kids who:

• Are insanely smarter than you.


• Have more money than you.


• Are better looking


• Have nicer clothes


• Are lucky to have bigger boobs than you


• Have a more extensive POG collection than you do (don't laugh - it totally happened).

and as much as we hate to remember:

• There will always be that boy who didn't like you back


• There will always be that boy you wanted to punch in the braces


• There will always be the semester you ate lunch in the stairwell because you hated the city your mom made you move to (not to mention you had no idea where the cafeteria was!)


• Having to dissect a frog in science class

or maybe you even had:

• The smelly kid with a temper problem


• The pregnant girl who made your parents a lot more strict about boys


• The boy that hung himself, even though you didn't know him personally, his name always stuck with you for some reason

A lot of these experiences will shape who you are, and it's a good thing. But these are all issues when I was in school. Today's issues seem a little more serious with gangs, guns, bullies and a-hole kids. It scares the crap out of me to know that my little baby, the one I always tried to rush into things like walking, potty training and talking, and now I just wish he would slow down, although I do look forward to hearing his stories about the smelly kid with the temper problem. I wonder how smelly guy is doing these days?

Archive Mondays: March 19, 2003

March 19, 2003 (This post was kind of hard to digest, I always thought I was so happy before he died...guess that wasn't so):
I'm crying for many reasons. I cry because R. has cancer and has been really sick lately and won't go to treatments, I cry because I feel my body is defective, I cry because I don't know what to do with my life, I cry because my grandma died (5 years ago), I cry because I'm afraid of war. I'm such a sensitive person that all these things upset me.

Office Space (this is embarassing!)

This is my office (even after a quick tidy!)

This is my shelf of miscellaneous items that make me happy (and some Avon crap)This is the zoo. You will notice the chameleon cage is still there. The chameleon died months ago.
Even my child can't keep his desk area clean!

Today I got tired of this room so I decided today was the day things were going to change around here. Two things this room needed: 1) a bomb 2) organization.

This is really the only picture I took with my shelf of awesome stuff in it...mainly because the shelf itself would take all day to organize so I kind of skipped that part. Just imagine it's neat and organized....I kind of like it messy though, adds character.

Check out the zoo! Chameleon cage is gone *sniff* and all the pet items are in the drawers or behind the aquarium....which I also cleaned out as well (I was on a roll!). M's desk area is tidier, I still have to get a magic eraser to wipe off his desk. I added a chair because I love that chair, and it was just getting all yucky in the basement.

Now my favourite part...the gross/clutterized desk has now been organized into a organizational superstar. There is a place for everything! I added another desk to form a L-shaped desk. I know it looks a little tacky, but just think of all the room I now have (to clutter up!). I added a candle because everything looks nicer with a candle.

So bike riding may not be the sport for us...

Mason began riding a two wheeler a month (or so) ago, so he's really not the greatest bike rider. There have been incidents where he has swerved and caused people to almost collide on the bike path (I am still really sorry about that!).

So when we came to the gigantic hill, I warned the young rider that he should walk his bike down, but it was too late, he went flying down the hill, laughing the entire way while myheart was probably 600bpm and I think I peed my pants a little. He wobbled like a drunk riding down the hill, and when he made it, both wheels still on the pavement, I sighed and kept on. Every little hill we came to I turned around and warned him to be careful, but his confidence was high and he loved the hills. I should have known this wasn't going to end well.

Anyway, we made it to the splash pad with no major incidents. It was on the way back that I let my guard down. I figured he knew how to ride, he was having fun. All of a sudden, he swerved, into a pole. His face (and his helmet) stopped him. I can't imagine the kind of pain or injury he would have had without his helmet. The helmet that I bitched about having to spend $30 on could have possibly saved his brain, or his life, depending how you look at it.

Anyway, his poor little face is a mess! I was already on my way down the hill (that wasn't even that big) and I couldn't stop! I put my foot down and hurt my toe because I was so afraid he was hurt a lot worse than he was.

When I got back to him he was getting up, spitting blood all over the straps of that $30 helmet which now has little cracks in the front. He was screaming like a maniac and I panicked when I couldn't see his teeth through all the blood (luckily they were there, just hiding in the mess).

To make matters worse, there was no other choice than to ride home as we were still pretty far away. The rest of the ride was spent listening to him wailing and complaining about having to ride.

I doubt he will want to go for a bike ride for a long time!

Complicated? Me?

I'm totally dateable *nervous laughs* Yep, nothing wrong with this girl....at all! This is the Flow Chart To My Heart which strangely looks exactly like something Mason drew at school the other day. I think it was "Scotty" throwing sand in his eyes or something like that, but it looks strangely similar to my flow chart.

DISCLAIMER: I added the above picture to this post for aesthetic reasons only. I repeat - only for aesthetics...so unless you are an eagle or have super-power nerd glasses, I suggest you do not even attempt to read that crap. Since I am so nice I have included a link to the bigger one for all you visually impaired people, the elderly and bats, because we all know that bats can't see *nervous laugh*

flow chart

PS - I spelt chart as "cheart" like every time I typed it in this post. That means a) I am exhausted b) a little dumb c) will be embarrassed if I don't use spellcheck this time.

PPS - Spellcheck RULES!!

PPPS - Don't be sad if you fail, we can probably still makeout? :/

Archive Mondays: March 18, 2003

March 18, 2003 - "Beauty and the Beast" (...and the title had nothing to do with the post at all....go figure!):
Well I had the most f**ked up dream last night! Please note: *********THIS IS A DREAM!*********I was in Wal-mart and I stole a bar of soap and walked out...well the ringy things at the door started beeping and the wal-mart greeter (who was nice when I walked in) turned out to be a real prick and dragged me off to this room where these big police men said that they were going to check the survailance(sp?) videos. They came back and said they couldn't find the video, but they were still going to cut my throat anyway for stealing. Then this big ogre came out with a big sword (he looked like the guy off Harry Potter) and he started taunting me telling me how he's going to cut my throat and stuff....I was so scared and I tried talking my way out of it and I happened to mention that I took it by accident since it was the only thing I was going to buy. Well then they all said oh, okay and let me go. The ogre nicked my neck with his sword though and it was bleeding a lot so he felt bad and came home with me. Then the ogre felt so bad that he stabbed himself through his neck and I was so sad because he was my friend. Weird eh?***End Dream***

20 again...

My sissy came for a visit this weekend, and it was super duper fun! I've never actually drank with my sister before, and if we were to get into some weird macho drinking contest (do girls do that sort of thing?) she would totally win - but that's cool because I am okay with the fact that I am not 20 years old anymore, but I'm not 30 yet either so I have that going for me I guess...sorry to the 30 year olds, but face it, you are probably more exciting than me anyway so feel free to punch my face.

Anyway, back to my sister visiting...it was fantastic fun! I picked her up at the Greyhound station on Friday night where an old man totally tried to steal my parking spot. I don't think I will ever forget that, it's just one of those moments that stick in your brain. Old dude in the beat up Jimmy has totally ruined that parking lot for me because now when I drive through there I will think "Yep, this is the spot where old dude tried to steal my spot".

From the Greyhound station we dropped off Mr. M with the babysitter and made our way over to martini night where we met up with my bestest twitter friends (well except for John Mayer - oh and David Duchovny, if he had a Twitter account). We ended up staying out really really late and having a super time.

Saturday we went to Old Navy to get some $2 tank tops and $25 jeans (that came with holes pre-made) and we saw my friend POOP!!!! Then we picked up M., and on the way I happened to remember that it was t-ball awards day. Shit. Total mom fail. So I picked up my dirty kid, with no uniform, and ran him over to the t-ball awards. Of course we missed it all so I had to stage up some acceptance photos and feel like a piece of crap mother for the rest of the day.

....I just noticed that he is wearing a basketball t-shirt to a t-ball awards ceremony - my bad! I can't think of everything after I realized he was missing the awards! He's lucky he even had a shirt on with the way my brain has been working lately!

(and now there are two creepy trophies! It looks like 2009 trophy is saying to 2008 trophy "I am going to beat you with my plastic bronzed bat when you go to sleep tonight" - extra creepy!)

Then I cooked a meal for sister and M. They enjoyed it - either that or they were just being nice. Then Sister and I went to see The Time Traveller's Wife at the VIP theatre, which was an okay movie, but I still don't get it. Sometimes I don't get jokes right away and five minutes later when I'm at work or in church or something I will crack up about penis jokes I heard earlier that day, just because I'm slow like that I guess. What I'm trying to get at here is that the movie totally confused me before I saw it, and then after I saw it, I WAS STILL CONFUSED!!! If anyone cares to explain to me what is going on, please do, or don't, I don't care.

So then we went to pick up M, but he was asleep so the babysitter (nana) decided to keep him overnight. By the time we got home it was pretty late, but why waste time when you are 20 and can be drinking your face off right? So we went to a creepy old people with no teeth bar that had a pretty decent band who was playing songs that we actually knew.

The weirdest thing was, on the way to this dumpy bar (which was totally charming in a way) we saw GHOST BOY!!! I will have to explain to you the story of ghost boy at another time, but first I must do more research into the subject, without pooping my pants out of fear or having my house become haunted. Then even weirder, when we were coming home, ghost boy was STILL THERE!!!

So then we freaked out and ran home. The next morning I drove sissy to the Greyhound station (and parked in "my spot" reminiscing about the old man in the Jimmy) and she was gone....but not before we had rude encounters with the Greyhound workers (what's the deal with their bitchiness anyway??) and me snapping a few creepy stalker pics!

Shove it Toucan Sam... (an open letter to Kelloggs)

Dear Kelloggs,


I was watching YTV with my son yesterday afternoon, one of those mindless shows about anime people who use a deck of playing cards as a means to cut off each other's heads...at least that's what I think they were doing anyway. I mean, we usually try to watch stations with no commercials because I am so tired of explaining to him that he cannot have that toy, no Cinnamon Toast Crunch Squares cannot come to life and eat another Cinnamon Toast Crunch and that any album that comes out in 2009 featuring "Please Don't Stop The Music by Rihanna" is not worth the $20 they soak you for at Wal-Mart. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, I figured we would have a little treat and watch some real TV, and besides I am at the point now if I have to hear Ruby's voice shrieking at Max again, some hair loss will be involved.


But we're getting off topic here, my real problem is Toucan Sam. Yes, you're beloved blue-feathered, rainbow-beaked superstar who has tormented me for years and it has to stop! I have forgiven him for the time he painted my son's face at Wal-Mart. The face painting was supposed to be a replica of himself - but as you can see it turned out looking like Bozo the Clown (on crack):


Which as you can see, wasn't very successful, but we forgave you, and we even bought your cereal (when it went on sale). My problem is not face paint that wouldn't even wipe off with a Lysol wipe, my problem is your beloved cereal crusader who cannot keep his shit together and keeps getting himself, and those three innocent nephews into trouble. While we are on the subject of nephews, what is it with bird families? Is the proper thing to do, drop your birdlings off with their rich (I can only assume Toucan Sam is rich because he has been on TV for numerous years) uncles (DuckTales - Hellooo!).


So anyway, these commercials (which an example can be viewed here) always end up with Toucan Sam and his dumb ass (orphaned) nephews in some sort of trouble. This most recent one had the flock up in a pirate ship on the top of a mountain. Then an announcer comes on and says "to save Toucan Sam and his nephews go to toucansam.com". So I did, I went to save the flippin birds from certain death, PETA would be so proud of me!


I went there and I was faced with a Toucan Sam version of Frogger - only like on expert, expert level, and let me tell you, I couldn't save Toucan Sam or his dumb ass nephews. Why don't their parents come to save them - better yet, they are birds, why not just fly away? FLY AWAY TOUCAN SAM!!!


I have been haunted for years and years by these commercials to save Toucan Sam, and it has to stop! Why does this guy keep getting himself into trouble with those birdlings, it's messed up! I think we need to ditch the toucan and get a real animal to represent Fruit Loops! Something like Bruno the Bear who claws his way through a pool of alligators that have poison dart heads and piranha sidekicks, or like He-Man. He-Man would never get stuck on a boat on top of a mountain...or David Duchovny. Yeah, David Duchovny is a great idea. Then we can change the name to David Duchovny loops and we could change the smell of them so they wouldn't smell like a baby's diaper full of pee first thing in the morning.


Just giving you some ideas, free of charge, because I am a nice person and a concerned citizen and I care for the children of the world - and for the alligators with poison darts, their sidekick piranhas and David Duchovny. I am so caring and I only yelled "go back inside and make me my Corn Flakes" one time, just once, even though I drove by them every single day. Okay maybe twice -but it was so funny! ...guess you had to be there...wait you probably were!


So because I am so caring, please take my advice and let's retire Toucan Sam and send his nephews to a rehab centre for child stars, because I care a lot about toucans, and David Duchovny.

Sincerely,

EVILFLU

Walking With Dinosaurs...

On Wednesday (yeah....I know, late!) Mason and I went to see Walking With Dinosaurs thanks to @London_events on Twitter (you guys only just wish you had my super-fast reflexes in order to answer that question so quickly!).

The show was fantastic, remarkable, incredible...until big ugly dinosaurs ate little dinosaur babies...because that totally almost made me cry.

We met some really great characters. Don't worry, those aren't yellow saggy balls (I asked). Just lookin out for my peeps, yo!

Then M got inked on hisface! It was so cool, apparently it only hurt a little (I chickened out) and I'm not a huge fan of the brontosaurus, I'm more of a t-rex girl myself.

We waited for the show to start with goofy grins.

...and then there were dinosaurs that looked and sounded totally real, except for the little car thingy under their feet. They also didn't smell bad. I assume that dinosaurs would be smelly. They just totally come off as the smelly guy in class, you know the type? Yeah well that's what I think dinosaurs would smell like. Adam...whatever his name was...he was the smelly guy in class.

...and then one of them pooped a turd bigger than my head. That's when I realized this show did not include scents, which would have been totally cooler. I know just the smell, this one time I was on the bus and a hobo pooped his pants on the seat and it was the worst smell in the world. I'm sure a dinosaur turd would kind of smell like that...and bamboo because I think that's what they were eating.

I forget what dinosaur this is, but if M ever happens to ask you, please confidently say to him that it is a spiky-o-saurus because that's what I told him and I don't like to lie to my kid. Seriously though, this dinosaur was a whole bag of awesome because a t-rex couldn't even eat through his skin! Plus he had a cute face.

..and then the t-rex (pluralized - T-rai?- what is the plural form of t-rex anyway?) came out and I was all like *swoon* I am your biggest fan ever and you were just amazing in Jurassic Park (except when you pushed that boy over that cliff in the car, that was mean). Then I got a little bit scared because I wondered, what if these actually were real dinosaurs and like the elephants at the circus they were trained to do tricks and not eat people. It could happen right? Then I saw the giant pole up its ass and realized that was so silly - but imagine if that really happened and the t-rex went crazy and ate people - then the show would have been insane!

Seriously though, it was a great show, and I don't think the dinosaurs are real, but it would have been so much cooler if they were!

Parenting is not always perfect...

but sometimes you really want it to seem that way. Eating out at a fancy restaurant, company outings, in a library, at an appointment, these are all times when you want people to look at your family and think "wow, they really are perfect".

For me, this time happens always at daycare. No parent wants the daycare teachers to see them fail! To the child, the daycare teacher is like a big giant bag of fun. The daycare teacher plays with them, gives them hugs when their parents abandon them and has a plethora of crayons, coloured macaroni and construction paper. The parents are seen as the evil masters of abandonment whereas the daycare teachers can do no wrong, it's really a sad situation to be in as evil is not so becoming of me.

Our routine this morning was a little disrupted by a scheduled visit to the new daycare that M. will be starting in a few short weeks. I dressed him in his "good clothes", brushed his hair and made sure all the chocolate cereal was wiped off his face. I was so worried that "Mr. Hyde" would make an appearance in front of the new daycare staff, and when everything went smoothly, I sighed a breath of relief and packed him into the car. Now here's where it gets ugly...

Even with my dirty rear view mirror, I could see his "Mr. Hyde" face coming out. Thinking nothing of it, I chose to ignore his morning grumpiness and continued on our way...and then when I opened the door, Mr. Hyde spilled out of the car. My little boy was no longer there, and I just knew the morning would end with me looking up exorcists in the phone book again.

Must give credit where it is due though, I fully did not expect this tantrum, not on this morning. He caught me by surprise!

By the time we got to the door, he was done. There was no getting him in the building. I decided my best defense at this point was the "fine then, I'm leaving" tactic, which proved to be successful, surprisingly. Getting him into his classroom was another battle though. My full grown self, trying to force this 56 pound body into the classroom just was not happening. I pulled, I pushed, I carried and in return he screamed, cried and grabbed onto doorways.

The teachers inside the classroom were all like "we're young and beautiful and we didn't get ourselves knocked up by a man with cancer who then died" (which translates into: we're not helping you drag your 56 pound pile of screambag into this classroom, we'll just stare and play with our hair instead).

After about 10 more minutes of me bribing, pulling, blocking and pushing, I gave up. I saw the older teacher coming, I managed to pass him off to her and sneak away like a burglar, only like an anti-burglar who like leaves their kid places because they are having a temper tantrum.

Mornings like this are HARD! It's hard to get through the day without your mind wandering back to that moment, the flashbacks of hearing him scream for you as you walk away, it's really hard. It takes all my will to not turn around, take him in my arms and run back home with him, but not only is that the wrong thing to do, I do have to go to work.

So when I went to pick him up, the teacher praised me for being able to leave him that way. My first thought was this woman totally has a crush on me she has to be kidding right now, but then I saw she actually meant it. She went on to explain that not many parents do leave their kids while they are acting that way. I don't know if I can be proud though, it's so hard to walk away and I do it because I have to, not because I have some excellent Supernanny tricks up my sleeve.

I can't believe I ever thought this would be easy, because it is sooo not!

Archive Mondays: March 5, 2003

I've decided to start posting some stuff from an old blog I have. The old blog is a little bit more personal, not that this stuff isn't personal on here, but the old blog was from a time when I actually had an interesting life.

So, every Monday I will have a wonderful little quote from my old blog that actually meant something to me (because honestly most of the old blog was like: I ate toast today). So you can laugh/cry/get angry every Monday until I run out of quotes.

Feel free to laugh your asses off at my stupid immaturity and then cry as I became the most pathetic person in the world. Honestly, I don't mind if you do!

________________________


March 5, 2003 (R. and I had just moved in together into our own place. At first he had moved in with me in a home that my family owned, when that home sold we had to find other arrangements, and while it was exciting, there were a few little "bumps" in the road along the way. I think this was a bad day for both of us):

"I'm actually feeling a little insecure here. I mean when R. moved in with me, that was my house, and now that this place is in his name and he makes more money than me he's got control over more things than I. For instance, today he demaned I take my hello kitty window clings out of the front window because his friends made fun of him. I happen to like those window clings and I can't say nothing about it because he's acting like mr. macho who owns the place."

Who we are.

He is home.
Safe.
In my bed.
Teeth grinding.
Again.

It's so quiet.
It's never quiet.
Until now.

I don't know who I am.
I don't know what I want.
I dont't know what to do.

but.
I know I have him.
and even though things didn't go the way they were suposed to.
He is loved.
I am loved.

It's all that matters.
It's all that should matter.
But it's never enough.

I want more.
That's so greedy.
Truth.

I am lucky.
In some ways.
Him not so much.
and that hurts to know that.

Love.

Sometimes things just work out for us....

The daycare situation has been a thorn in my side for well over a year now. It has been eating at me day and night to the point where I would get irritable when the situation would be brought up. School is scary enough, but not being able to find childcare to work around your child's schooling hours is pretty frustrating.

In the back of my mind, I wasn't worried because for some reason everything seems to work out for us. It happens at the last possible moment, just when I'm about to give up and throw a hissy fit, things just seem to work themselves out. Well except for the time R. died, that didn't really work out when I expected it to - but I'm not going there right now.

So things work out, they always do, but why must they wait until the last possible moment? I mean, I'm happy things work out, but why do I have to go through all the stress and irritation over it until they happen.

I decided the daycare thing was taking too long to happen, so I had to make it happen myself. Yesterday I called the daycare and the director to check on our status on the list. It turned out, we were in second place. Now here's where it gets better, the people in first place were left a message and they had until the end of the day to let the director know if they wanted to take the space or not. I only had to hope that the other family was a bunch of serial killers or the guy who almost drove into my car that day on the way home while talking on his cellphone - and hope that they were either incarcerated or on vacation so they wouldn't get that spot. Anything that made me feel better about screwing someone else over, right? See I'm a nice person!

So this morning I hovered over the phone, and I got the call! Somehow I knew I would get the call, because as I said before, things just always work out for us. I consider it payment for making the rest of my life hell until they work out.

Or maybe things really do work themselves out. Maybe that's just it, when you have a shitty deal, things usually work out (I can't say always because I'm not a scientist or anything) but think about a situation you've been in and now think of how it worked out, and if it hasn't worked out, think of ways you can make it come along (like making a phone call on the right day at the right time).

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, things will work out if you want them to bad enough, but you have to do a little bit of work to get to that point. So make that phone call, it might do you some good and take a little stress away.

Things I learned about myself this week...

- Sometimes when you expect a happy ending, it doesn't happen and it's shocking because you totally expected it.
-I seem to have an odd obession with Snoop Dogg

-That I can't dance.
-Pilates is still the devil, but really not that bad.
-Our struggles seem so small compared to what others have to go through, and although it may not always seem that way, we are lucky.
-When one person hurts me, I want to do the same to someone else. I need to change this - but how?

-I like funny.

-I don't like alone.

-That The preview for The Time Travellers Wife makes me want to bawl my friggin eyes out...for hours.

-That 16 and Pregnant is like a train wrek that was full of Dunkaroos and peanut m&m's to me...and that if I was pregnant when I was 16, I would have an 11 year old right now.

-...which is scary because I don't particularly like 11 year olds.

-that I like to make out with things in my mind

-That I don't get jokes - until like 5 minutes later, which is kind of awkward in social situations sometimes (helloooo wet crotch joke in The Ugly Truth)

-That Gerard Butler is dirty sexy.

-...and by dirty sexy I mean that in a good way.

-That I have to add a picture to each blog post I did so it will look good in my "you might also like..." thingy

-That I have blog writing block, which I usually solve by posting pictures, but I have nothing to take pictures of.

-That I miss him.

Happy Birthday Sister [FULL VERSION]

Yeah Yeah I'm late...but I like this pic and I thought I would post it for your birthday (which was actually 2 days ago...) but anywayyyyyy...love you much!


Update: I thought this post was a little on the "lighter" side, so I decided to add some juicy info to it to sweeten it up a bit (err....I hope anyway).

When my sister was born, I was 8 years old (and freakishly cute - see above). I didn't want any brothers or sisters and in fact, the way I remember it, my mom got really fat, sent me away to stay with my aunt and a week later came to pick me up with a baby. Oh but wait, she did call me and asked me what I wanted to name my sister before that.

Remember that show "Growing Pains", well I used to love that show...like obsessively. So when my mom called to ask what we should name my new baby sister, I said "Carol". For those who remember, Carol was the annoying sister on that show that nobody liked (well I didn't think they did anyway). I picked that name because I hated Carol and would probably hate my sister too.

Turns out, I only hated her sometimes because I was, and still am, cranky sometimes. Like the time she called me a name and kicked her in the face and begged her not to tell on me, or the time when she drank my Pepsi from the fridge. I guess I only hated her for a little bit after she was born though because I look ridiculously happy in that picture.

I don't hate her now, other than the fact that she is ridiculously younger than me and at a fun age. She's pretty cool tho and I love her lots and we never ever fight, unless we live together, and she has two babies who are my nieces and I love them too.

Sister, I love you, hope you had a happy birthday and sorry I couldn't be there to party like I was 20 again with you!

The blog of make out...

I am so excited to be sharing this with you all, but I had an epiphany last night. I was walking with my friend and I was like hey, I'm going to start a blog about things I want to make out with. Then she looked at me like I was stupid. Then I tweeted it because I felt awesome. Then I deleted the tweet because some stupid Make_Out bot re-tweeted it and I was all like, I don't want some emo teenage girl copying my idea.

It just seemed like the right thing to do, you know? All successful bloggers have a secondary blog (some even two or three!), so it was just the next step. I mean, I always had a second blog, but it was way depressing because I wanted it to be secretive and it ended up being like scary emo so I deleted it.

So without further ado, I present to you:

MAKE OUT blog

PS - After I had the epiphany last night, some dude at the bus stop totally told me I had nice boobies. I know that sounds rude, but he was totally nice and polite about it. So instead of getting mad about it, I graciously accepted his compliment with a polite thank you.

PPS - I don't know why I just told you that.

PPPS - I think it's because I was wearing this shirt:
which always makes the boobies look nice