Thursday, April 28, 2011

Potty mouth, tornados and the royal weddedness

I've been swearing a lot lately. Not sure why...not sure I'm going to do anything about it. Just thought I'd recognize it. Put it out there.. own it. Fucking embrace it.

Bad weather. Tornados and thunder storms all around me. The entire east coast looks like when the gates of hell opened in ghost busters. (Is that what was happening? You know with all the swirly dark clouds and such.) The kind that touch down and steal your livestock - or your kids. (Which is funny because we got an email from the school urging us to walk our kids to the bus because of the weather - which makes me object on many levels...and I was like hell no I'm not getting swept away too!! I'm kidding. I thought that... but I still went....)

Anyways - in light of the storms I thought the best thing to do would be to talk on the phone, run a bath and type a post on my computer. At the same exact time. All three things would make my mother keel over directly. All three things done together will clearly make her head explode. She has been convinced for her entire life that the lightening will come through the pipes and the phone and cook your brain. I'm sure the computer is the same since it is on our list of storm no-no's.
When I was a kid she would usher us into her make shift bunker beneath the basement stairs. If you think tornados scare you mom, I blame your fear of them for my fear of spiders and small places. It isn't like the woman ever experienced a traumatic event personally from a storm... you could say I did since my childhood kitty was killed by lightening - but not her. She freaks the second she thinks a storm is coming to this day. She watches the weather channel for hours on end to make sure she is on it. She is like the opposite of the storm chaser. She will point at a fluffy white cloud in a blue sky and announce that it doesn't look right... that it looks like a tornado cloud... and then spend a ridiculous amount of time staring it down.
I have to wake up at 4 am to watch Prince Wills marry Katherine. I dvr'd just in case I drink myself into a coma before bed - well you know in celebration and such. LOOK - I'm Canadian and that means that he is going to be my King... so it is my duty to celebrate. I can't wait to see what she wears and her hair, what he wears, so swoon romantic! Weddings! Princes! Carriages... etc. Sadly my very own Prince Charming is trying to fly home but is trapped where he is because of the weather (I stopped myself from swearing just then... don't want to overdo it...). Hope he gets home so I can tuck my feet up under him at bed and gaze adoringly at him as I fall asleep.... (in my wedding dress... lol)

*bonus* Last week I had a dream that I commissioned a painting of my Spartan on the ceiling of our bedroom. Then I woke up and was like, "wtf?" and then eventually came round to thinking it might be a good idea... which would be waaaay creepier if we had just started dating or something. Just saying. Not exactly normal when it's your husband but less creepy... right? Maybe a little? HMMM?

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Ants, birds and a dripping faucet and not in that order

I'm annoyed.

Birds in my dryer vent scared the shit out of me this morning while I was looking for socks for Babs... hadn't quite woken up yet either. Very disturbing. For a split second the irrational thought; "This is it the end of the world... tiny squeaking aliens are about to come through a porthole that just happens to be right where my dryer is. Fanfuckingtastic." I think I read too much science fiction. I'm afraid to turn on the dryer and cook those suckers.

Ants. Fucking ants are trying to turn my very lovely home into an ant farm. They appear to like the cracks in the corners of the doorway... which means I have to call out the pest folks who appear in the form of one very young giggly fellow who I'm not sure does anything useful at all.... CUZ ANTS ARE EVERYWHERE and he just came 3 weeks ago...

Lastly - my faucet in the kitchen is dripping. It's slowly making me lose my grip with reality. Last night when the house got quiet - it seemed to get much louder to the point where I jumped up and yelled "I'll tell you what you want to know - JUST MAKE IT STOP."

I'm going to the store to buy one of those tiny blowtorches they use for creme brulee... I think it might be able to solve all of my problems - even if only temporarily...

Oh and seriously if Donald Trump runs for office why don't we urge Madonna to take over as Treasurer and maybe one of the reality stars from the hills could get in there... or maybe a character from sesame street.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

You really want to know what I think....

In Canada visiting family. While here I decided to check into a hotel nearby to free up room for other relatives with small(er) children. Also so I can use the gym...and yeah ok the spa. But mostly because I kick ass in the generosity dept ;-)
Anyways when I went to use the gym which is really really small -about the size of my walk in closet-and it isn't an Oprah closet before you ask... So I'm working away sculpting and such (that's what happens in the movie in my mind-in reality I thInk it just ensures I can still do up my jeans which is also nice...) when suddenly 3 adults and their tiny spawn enter the gym whereupon they ALL start playing. The kids were hanging on the pulldown bar and then they played on the elliptical and so on. The adults didn't do anything useful either. They just got in the way. What do I really think? Get out. I'm busting my ass here and in about 5 minutes I'm going to play "catch" the medicine ball with your three year old - and that will only end in tears. My other plan involves bowling overhand with both of your brats with them ending up somewhere in the hot tub cooking them into children stew. Yep. That's what I really think. The arcade is in the lobby you terds.
I gave up after about 20 minutes and cut my work out short. I spent the next hour wishing them ill-which I'm doing again right now....

So then this morning I went to breakfast and there was this family who was trying to break the Guinness record on carb inhalation and they are sitting right in front of me so I am totally staring. Can't help it they were fascinating. So this kid with them is about 7 and he is alternately
Opening his mouth for his mother to stuff waffles in and playing is ds. Evidently the battery died on his electronic device because he collapsed into a blubbering heap of loud tears. Know what his mommy did to make him feel better? She built him-and in mean built this would have challenged even the best architectural engineer- a waffle sandwich stuffed with at least 30 pieces of hot greasy bacon. Then she flattened it and handed it to him. So he stopped crying and in the most horrific way imaginable ate it all and ask for toast. I looked down at my plate of fruit and felt very proud... And I wrapped my bacon up in a napkin to hide myself more than anything. Plus I thought the kid might attack me for it when he was done eating his toast like the cookie monster. Jeez people. Why not just feed him a vat of lard and give him some ciggies? The gym is on the 2nd floor you terds... (see what I did there?)

Side note- this post was painstakingly typed out on my iPad folks-it took me forever. Hope you appreciate my efforts to tell you what I really think... Happy Easter!

Saturday, April 09, 2011

Let's see if she has anything interesting to say folks...

Since every single time something funny happens I still find myself writing about it in my head... I figured I might as well write it here.

Still living in America. Looks like I might be the first generation to permanently move back here since my Grandfather. Way back when someone in my gene pool jumped over the pond from somewhere in Europe - rumored to be Scotland and Ireland and eventually came to the States and some to Canada and now my family is split betwixt. And I spend so much time going back and forth and forth and back that I still feel split betwixt.

This is a good pairing of cultures since I can now benefit from both Thanksgivings and preferred taxation.

I went on a field trip to the Museum of Natural History last week. I had the flu - well I was through the worst of it but then I sat in the back of the imagined not a good plan. I spent 3 hours in between dizzy spells and feeling nauseous - mix in the odd dinosaur skeleton and 5,000 hyperactive children and that pretty much sums up my day. Seriously, who decides this shit is fun. Next year I'm going to suggest a field trip where the adults can drink. It's only fair. Children like to see how shit is made right? Why not wine? That's what I say.

I'm going to make sure I start researching this right away... :-D