If you know me, you know I'm not exactly know for my ability to bite my proverbial tongue. As my mother politely puts it, I am a very determined person.
Well, I might not be the model of biting my proverbial tongue, but the night before last, I sure as fuck bit the hell out of my literal tongue. I've been stressed lately, particularly at work, and I haven't been sleeping well. Well, obviously I'm suffering from some kind of sleep disturbance because while I slept, I bit down on my tongue so hard, I left my teeth imprints on both sides. I'm in so much pain and discomfort right now. Eating hurts, talking hurts, swallowing hurts...it all hurts.
Except soft ice cream...that's cold and soft enough to numb my tongue and swallow. The only solution I can see is that I need a chocolate soft ice cream machine in my house for the next couple of weeks.
Relief from the pain...
Wish you were here.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Thursday, June 6, 2013
June 6/13
Today, there is just so much in the news to choose from, and much of it just pisses me off.
1. Today, the Conservative Party supporters threw Brent Rathgeber under the bus. He quit the caucus last night after being sandbagged on his own private members bill, stating that he didn't even recognize his own party, and that the party had become what it used to rail against. Good for him. He's taking a principled stand for the rights of the backbenchers in all parties to represent their constituents in the government instead of representing the government to their constituents. If only the other backbenchers who have publicly complained about similar treatment by the party's leadership did the same. Instead, they threw Mr. Rathgeber under the bus. I very much disagree with Mr. Rathgeber's politics and his outlook on life and politics, but I applaud his decision to leave the party caucus.
2. Today, the mayor and city manager of Abbotsford, BC apologized for dumping chicken manure on a field where homeless people in the city were known to camp. Oh for fuck sakes, Abbotsford...you stay classy.
3. And hey, guess what? Health Canada released its proposed law to address the expansion of safe injection sites in other cities, and you can only guess what these ideologue morons have done...stonewalled! The law makes it almost impossible for new clinics to open in other communities. These pricks lost all the way up to and including the Supreme Court, so they did the only thing they could do...they designed some bureaucratic garbage policy that they knew would painfully restrict the ability to open new sites. So much for harm reduction and supports to drug users who want to quit.
4. The hits keep on coming, as Aboriginal Affairs announced that it would be significantly reducing funding for Aboriginal Service Organizations like the Assembly of First Nations, the Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, the Congress of Aboriginal Peoples, and various Metis Nations. Fuck...I don't even know where to begin with this one. It's best I don't talk about it...who knows what I would say, then delete, then rephrase then delete then swear about and get frustrated over ad nauseum.
5. Okay Texas. It's time we had a talk. This week, a jury acquitted a man who killed a woman who refused to have sex with him after he paid her. He shot up the car she was in with an AK-47. A fucking assault rifle...for $150. Dear Texas: You. Are. Fucking. Sick. I guess the price of a life in Texas is $150.
Sigh...
Where is a world that makes sense?
...Wish you were here.
1. Today, the Conservative Party supporters threw Brent Rathgeber under the bus. He quit the caucus last night after being sandbagged on his own private members bill, stating that he didn't even recognize his own party, and that the party had become what it used to rail against. Good for him. He's taking a principled stand for the rights of the backbenchers in all parties to represent their constituents in the government instead of representing the government to their constituents. If only the other backbenchers who have publicly complained about similar treatment by the party's leadership did the same. Instead, they threw Mr. Rathgeber under the bus. I very much disagree with Mr. Rathgeber's politics and his outlook on life and politics, but I applaud his decision to leave the party caucus.
2. Today, the mayor and city manager of Abbotsford, BC apologized for dumping chicken manure on a field where homeless people in the city were known to camp. Oh for fuck sakes, Abbotsford...you stay classy.
3. And hey, guess what? Health Canada released its proposed law to address the expansion of safe injection sites in other cities, and you can only guess what these ideologue morons have done...stonewalled! The law makes it almost impossible for new clinics to open in other communities. These pricks lost all the way up to and including the Supreme Court, so they did the only thing they could do...they designed some bureaucratic garbage policy that they knew would painfully restrict the ability to open new sites. So much for harm reduction and supports to drug users who want to quit.
4. The hits keep on coming, as Aboriginal Affairs announced that it would be significantly reducing funding for Aboriginal Service Organizations like the Assembly of First Nations, the Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, the Congress of Aboriginal Peoples, and various Metis Nations. Fuck...I don't even know where to begin with this one. It's best I don't talk about it...who knows what I would say, then delete, then rephrase then delete then swear about and get frustrated over ad nauseum.
5. Okay Texas. It's time we had a talk. This week, a jury acquitted a man who killed a woman who refused to have sex with him after he paid her. He shot up the car she was in with an AK-47. A fucking assault rifle...for $150. Dear Texas: You. Are. Fucking. Sick. I guess the price of a life in Texas is $150.
Sigh...
Where is a world that makes sense?
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
June 5/13
Fiji grows some big boys. How do I know this, without ever having gone there or met any Fijians in person? Because the Fijian Men's Rugby team were "in town" for a match against the Canadian Men's team as part of the Pacific Nation Cup.
I say "in town" because Ottawa's Rugby venue isn't in Ottawa. It's out in a field somewhere, bordered on all four sides by more fields. The address is listed as being in Nepean, but I don't believe it at all...that shit's waaaaay too rural to be even considered "south Nepean." Walk two miles in any direction from the Rugby park, and you will see it's only rural fields. Anyway, I opted to cheer for the Fijians because there was a player who was pulling off the Mr T. look...how could you dare cheer for Canada when Mr. T. is running the pitch?
But sitting there in the stands, I noted a pair of parents who carried in their young children who were dressed in their pajamas. The boy was maybe 5 or 6, and the girl was maybe 4. The kids weren't tired, but obviously mum and dad had driven in from somewhere and they expected the kids to fall asleep on the way home. Instead, the kids romped along the sidelines. At one point, I caught myself thinking 'So that's what I must have looked like at the ball diamond.'
You see, I was one of the Fort Smith Rowdies diamond rats. Daddy was the team coach, and I was a familiar fixture at practices, games and tournaments. The team even got me a little tiny team jacket, which I think I may still have somewhere. Not a lot of the guys had kids, and certainly the other kids who came out were their boys; I was the only girl who wasn't a baby, though with my short hair and rough and tumble tomboy manners, you wouldn't know it. I spent a lot of nights and weekends scampering around the park and climbing the fences and bleachers with the other kids.
That little trip down memory lane was courtesy of Pajamas at a Rugby park.
In the olden days...
...Wish you were here.
I say "in town" because Ottawa's Rugby venue isn't in Ottawa. It's out in a field somewhere, bordered on all four sides by more fields. The address is listed as being in Nepean, but I don't believe it at all...that shit's waaaaay too rural to be even considered "south Nepean." Walk two miles in any direction from the Rugby park, and you will see it's only rural fields. Anyway, I opted to cheer for the Fijians because there was a player who was pulling off the Mr T. look...how could you dare cheer for Canada when Mr. T. is running the pitch?
But sitting there in the stands, I noted a pair of parents who carried in their young children who were dressed in their pajamas. The boy was maybe 5 or 6, and the girl was maybe 4. The kids weren't tired, but obviously mum and dad had driven in from somewhere and they expected the kids to fall asleep on the way home. Instead, the kids romped along the sidelines. At one point, I caught myself thinking 'So that's what I must have looked like at the ball diamond.'
You see, I was one of the Fort Smith Rowdies diamond rats. Daddy was the team coach, and I was a familiar fixture at practices, games and tournaments. The team even got me a little tiny team jacket, which I think I may still have somewhere. Not a lot of the guys had kids, and certainly the other kids who came out were their boys; I was the only girl who wasn't a baby, though with my short hair and rough and tumble tomboy manners, you wouldn't know it. I spent a lot of nights and weekends scampering around the park and climbing the fences and bleachers with the other kids.
That little trip down memory lane was courtesy of Pajamas at a Rugby park.
In the olden days...
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
June 4/13
I had planned for this day for many months, and when it arrived, I totally forgot.
Etienne didn't.
Warm Bodies came out on DVD and Blu-ray today! The good news is that I own it. The bad news is that I totally forgot, and it took a very thoughtful, kind, and generous gift from Etienne to remind me.
My enfeebled memory is starting to cross a line from nuisance to problematic at times.
Aging sorta sucks a bit...
...Wish you were here.
Etienne didn't.
Warm Bodies came out on DVD and Blu-ray today! The good news is that I own it. The bad news is that I totally forgot, and it took a very thoughtful, kind, and generous gift from Etienne to remind me.
My enfeebled memory is starting to cross a line from nuisance to problematic at times.
Aging sorta sucks a bit...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, June 3, 2013
June 3/13
Hey Hey! It's her Birfday! That's right, it's the anniversary of the birth of my big sister, Baby K. No matter how many years young she is, she's still Baby K, and I'm still "Fance" or "Brat."
She's been like a second mum in my life, looking out for me, when she wasn't busy torturing me. The age difference is, well, uh, noticeable, and I both suffered and benefited for it.
Pros:
-My sister took me with her to some of her friend's parties, where I hung out with adults and drank beer
-My sister made me the most punk-rockin' punk rock girl on Punk Rocker Day at my elementary school...I won best costume...in grade two suck it grade 7's!
-My sister took me to my first ever college lecture...Art History at Red Deer College. I was barely in high school at that point.
-My sister wrote me letters, encouraging me when she saw I was having a rough time of growing up.
-My sister would come get me from school to play hooky for the afternoon
Cons:
-My sister once sat on me for about a half hour, and she and my dad laughed at this torture, while I was screaming on the ground...ohhhh boy was mum pissed.
-My sister once took me out of school to play hooky, and then she and her friends were mean to me, triggering me to pack up some books, my blankie and my pound puppy to run away. She talked me back. I think she had to, otherwise we would have gotten caught.
-My sister got me ready for picture day in Grade three. Mummy wanted to strangle us both when she got the pictures back. I got into a fight with a girl in grade four who tried to tattle on me for wearing make-up.
If you've got a big sister who loved you and tortured you, giver her a hug. I would if I could!
Baby K...
...Wish you were here.
She's been like a second mum in my life, looking out for me, when she wasn't busy torturing me. The age difference is, well, uh, noticeable, and I both suffered and benefited for it.
Pros:
-My sister took me with her to some of her friend's parties, where I hung out with adults and drank beer
-My sister made me the most punk-rockin' punk rock girl on Punk Rocker Day at my elementary school...I won best costume...in grade two suck it grade 7's!
-My sister took me to my first ever college lecture...Art History at Red Deer College. I was barely in high school at that point.
-My sister wrote me letters, encouraging me when she saw I was having a rough time of growing up.
-My sister would come get me from school to play hooky for the afternoon
Cons:
-My sister once sat on me for about a half hour, and she and my dad laughed at this torture, while I was screaming on the ground...ohhhh boy was mum pissed.
-My sister once took me out of school to play hooky, and then she and her friends were mean to me, triggering me to pack up some books, my blankie and my pound puppy to run away. She talked me back. I think she had to, otherwise we would have gotten caught.
-My sister got me ready for picture day in Grade three. Mummy wanted to strangle us both when she got the pictures back. I got into a fight with a girl in grade four who tried to tattle on me for wearing make-up.
If you've got a big sister who loved you and tortured you, giver her a hug. I would if I could!
Baby K...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
June 2/13
Some dates just stick with you, long after their significance has diminished or even vanished. I remember January 4th because in grade three, it was the first day back to school after winter break. I remember August 28th because a lot of couples in my life got married on that day. You know...some days have significance, while others don't.
I remember June 2nd. My most significant relationship from high school began with a group date on June 2nd. And one year plus ten days later, it ended. We went out of supper on our anniversary, then we went to Speedy's place where everyone was gathering to get ready to attend the graduation dance. We were only in grade 10, but in a small school like ours, it was natural we'd have friends in grade 12, and that those friends were doing their grand march, followed by the dance.
At the dance, my boyfriend spent a lot of time away from me. This wasn't an alarm for me though because I loved to dance, so I would be on the dance floor until you kicked me off, whereas he would take breaks. We took a picture with my best friend, who was escorting one of the grads, so she looked really good. He stood with her, while I was off to the other side beside a fake palm tree. Shit, I just thought he was being awesome with our friends.
I tried to take a picture of him, he refused to look at the camera. LIke, wow. Here I was, thinking "One year! Happy anniversary to us!" and the bastard was unhappy and wanting out.
Today I woke up and thought, hey, happy birfday dude until I remembered...no, his birfday was not the 2nd. Our anniversary was. Suddenly the goodwill of a birfday wish got totally overtaken by the absurd ill wishes of a broken teenaged heart.
He broke my heart that night...I just didn't let myself believe it for several more days.
Learning to grow up...
...Wish you were here.
I remember June 2nd. My most significant relationship from high school began with a group date on June 2nd. And one year plus ten days later, it ended. We went out of supper on our anniversary, then we went to Speedy's place where everyone was gathering to get ready to attend the graduation dance. We were only in grade 10, but in a small school like ours, it was natural we'd have friends in grade 12, and that those friends were doing their grand march, followed by the dance.
At the dance, my boyfriend spent a lot of time away from me. This wasn't an alarm for me though because I loved to dance, so I would be on the dance floor until you kicked me off, whereas he would take breaks. We took a picture with my best friend, who was escorting one of the grads, so she looked really good. He stood with her, while I was off to the other side beside a fake palm tree. Shit, I just thought he was being awesome with our friends.
I tried to take a picture of him, he refused to look at the camera. LIke, wow. Here I was, thinking "One year! Happy anniversary to us!" and the bastard was unhappy and wanting out.
Today I woke up and thought, hey, happy birfday dude until I remembered...no, his birfday was not the 2nd. Our anniversary was. Suddenly the goodwill of a birfday wish got totally overtaken by the absurd ill wishes of a broken teenaged heart.
He broke my heart that night...I just didn't let myself believe it for several more days.
Learning to grow up...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
June 1/13
So, I have this blue cotton dress...it's long, and the fabric is ink-dyed, with a white pattern near the hem. It's the kind of dress you find through fair-trade, organic, free-spirited vendors who drag their wares from outdoor festival to outdoor festival. In this case, I bought this dress at a vendor at Lilith Fair in 1997. It's lightweight, it breathes well, and it covered the stubble on my legs when I'm too lazy to shave, or it's the day before I shave. You know...it's comfortable and casual and totally unpretentious.
I decided to wear this dress today because of the humid weather (it breathes well), and because I don't shave my legs until Sundays (is that too much information?). To cover up the bra straps, I've been known to wear a white t-shirt under the dress, which I did today. Very comfortable outfit. Very low-maintenance. And apparently, very age-reducing.
For the record, I'm 34 years old, and while I have never looked my age, I'm starting to show signs of being in the neighbourhood of my 30s. It's been quite some time since I last recall being ID'ed...maybe last year?
Anyway, Etienne and I hit the grocery store for some essentials, and then tripped next door to the liquor store, also for some essentials. He took his gluten-free beer and a couple of ciders, while I selected a bottle of red wine. We approached the cash, and Etienne decided to just pay for everything in one shot, so I handed him the bottle. I wasn't even paying attention really, but quite unexpectedly, the cashier said, "Can I see you ID, miss?"
It took a second or two to realize he was talking to me. Etienne also seemed caught off guard, and we both just looked at each other before I started to dig into my purse for my wallet. Then the cashier looked at Etienne and tells him "Oh, no, you look old." We had no idea how to respond to that comment...here was my partner, 4 years younger than me, being told he looks old (I think the cashier meant to say old enough), while I, a woman well into my 30's, was being carded. We're both fairly certain that I'm older than the cashier.
The whole exchange took less than a minute, and I was just laughing it off, until I really thought about it...last time I was ID'ed, I was wearing that dress on that occasion too. Come to think of it...whenever I wear that dress and need to purchase liquor, I get ID'ed. The magic hippie dress...it has the power to take up to 15 years off my appearance.
I should wear it every day...
...Wish you were here.
I decided to wear this dress today because of the humid weather (it breathes well), and because I don't shave my legs until Sundays (is that too much information?). To cover up the bra straps, I've been known to wear a white t-shirt under the dress, which I did today. Very comfortable outfit. Very low-maintenance. And apparently, very age-reducing.
For the record, I'm 34 years old, and while I have never looked my age, I'm starting to show signs of being in the neighbourhood of my 30s. It's been quite some time since I last recall being ID'ed...maybe last year?
Anyway, Etienne and I hit the grocery store for some essentials, and then tripped next door to the liquor store, also for some essentials. He took his gluten-free beer and a couple of ciders, while I selected a bottle of red wine. We approached the cash, and Etienne decided to just pay for everything in one shot, so I handed him the bottle. I wasn't even paying attention really, but quite unexpectedly, the cashier said, "Can I see you ID, miss?"
It took a second or two to realize he was talking to me. Etienne also seemed caught off guard, and we both just looked at each other before I started to dig into my purse for my wallet. Then the cashier looked at Etienne and tells him "Oh, no, you look old." We had no idea how to respond to that comment...here was my partner, 4 years younger than me, being told he looks old (I think the cashier meant to say old enough), while I, a woman well into my 30's, was being carded. We're both fairly certain that I'm older than the cashier.
The whole exchange took less than a minute, and I was just laughing it off, until I really thought about it...last time I was ID'ed, I was wearing that dress on that occasion too. Come to think of it...whenever I wear that dress and need to purchase liquor, I get ID'ed. The magic hippie dress...it has the power to take up to 15 years off my appearance.
I should wear it every day...
...Wish you were here.
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