Thursday, November 30, 2006
Tattoos and Tunes
Otherwise known as the post that my parents will have absolutely NO interest in.

Carrisa asked what the first five songs on my iPod were, in the shuffle rotation.

They are:

1. Best of My life
Rilo Kiley
Takeoffs & Landings

2. Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of this Song
Fall Out Boy
From Under The Cork Tree

3. Alcohol
Barenaked Ladies

4. Soundeffects And Overdramatics
The Used
In Love and Death

5. The Good Times Are Killing Me
Modest Mouse
Good News for People Who Love Bad News

H asked about my tattoos, the quantity, time line and content. My mother will tell you I got them just to dig the knife in her side in a little deeper. Give it a twist and remind her of the pain and anxiety I caused them in my younger years. Oh hell, who am I kidding, she is probably right, on some level. After all, if it weren't so, I probably wouldn't have felt the need to hide them from my parents for nine (count them, nine) years. Who me, spineless? To you I say, Pshaw!

As seen in this photo I have several on my feet. (You love my feet Dare, they are beautiful and you know it.)
Happy feet

My first tattoo is the one with the moon and stars on my right foot, which I got back before the prodigy was so much as a glimpse. I got that one with my cousin Mike (RIP), when he got one; Woodstock, of the Peanuts variety, on his arm. My second was the vine on my left foot, which has purple flowers. I have NO idea why I allowed the dude to put purple in it, because I hate, loathe and detest the color purple so much that it induces rage. HATE. Yet I like the tattoo a lot. It is one of my favorites. My third tattoo is of a Celtic heart, it is on my tailbone. More on that shortly. My fourth tattoo was my ultimate favorite, but it didn't last. I went against the tattoo guru's advice and got it on the bottom of my foot, after being told that the skin there regenerates at such a rate that they could not guarantee permanence. It was of a short lived Maple leaf. I think I had it a total of about 3 months before it faded from view forever.

Let me see here. Fast forward a time until The Leester and I got matching tattoos (aww, how sweet) of an Ankh, with each of our zodiacs at the North, East and South points of the cross, signifying the eternal aspect of the family we chose to create. (For those not in the know, The Leester chose the prodigy and I as a package deal and he has raised the prodigy as his own for many years. I heart him, really a lot. Have I made that known? He has given us a life that would have forever been beyond my capabilities without him and is truly a wonderful man, father and husband. Color this girl thankful and lucky, even when I tease about him and pretend to poison him...(the bastard) Enough on that one now, that story gets its own post, in the form of the answer to Steens questions.)

The next of the inky goodness comes in the form of the happy face on my big toe. I got that the same day that I got the one that is also the completion of the tattoo on my back, which is a very intricate Celtic knot work that I designed. That one is cool and I love it alot, although I hate that in the years since I got it, it has become the trendiest place for tattoos and that the area is oh-so-fondly known as a 'tramp stamp'. Grrrr. My claim to fame with that one is it was done by Ozzy's tattoo guy.

Shall I go on? I jest, that is all of them, at this point. I guarantee to you that my Mom has read up till now and is pretty much having apoplectic fits. I love you Mommy! Hehehe. Kind of like a train-wreck. You know it is horrible but yet you cant look away. That pretty much sums up how much My mom loves my tattoos.

My Dad? Also having read this would say something to this effect:

"Do not mistakenly assume my silence is approval." He would have a very tight-lipped, straight face and possibly a certain vein in his forehead slightly bulging as he worked his jaw muscles. This is a look I knew all to well, growing up. Tis a good thing that the parental love is of the unconditional variety, because Lord knows I pushed the envelope.

Until tomorrow, my friends;

Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Knowledge is Power!
Or alternately, a lame title to this post because 'Answers to your Questions' is blah and even more lame. But first, you have to hear this. The Leester arrives home from work yesterday and this is a general rundown of our conversation:

Me: Hiya Hon! how was your day?
Him: My day was good, yours?
Me: No complaints.
Him: I did learn something today though...
Me: You did? And what was it that you learned?
Him: Well, did you know that women talk more than three times as much as men? And that for women, talking a lot releases endorphins that make them happy? So a woman's talking is like being addicted to heroin. You women are just addicted to talking.
Me: Dude. And you learned this where?
Him: Uhh...on my favorite talk radio show.
Me: Yeah, I had kind of guessed as much.
Him: Well, just don't be upset when I don't listen to your your incessant talking or answer your questions, alright? I can say in one word what it takes you at least three to say. Or in your case, three hundred and thirty three. *snicker*
Me: *eye roll* Go sit down, your dinner is almost ready, ass.
Him: *silence as he walks away*
me: mumble mumble mumble *puts strychnine in his dinner*

Men. I tell ya! Are they all like this? the questions!

AW asked: Uhm, how bout you tell us who your favourite blogger is? What is the most unique thing you've found in Florida and what are the biggest misconceptions about Canadians in Florida?

Why Cookie, YOU are, of course! Was there ever any doubt? :P Actually, in answer to this, I have decided to commit a forthcoming post to showing you guys some of my favorite readings. Stay tuned to whenever I decide to stop being a lazy ass and get busy posting all the links for you. Like tomorrow. There, I have committed. I swore I wouldn't do that again but I have. Happy now?!

Some unique things I have noticed about Florida..well, hmmn. I don't know if they are unique to FL or were just unusual compared to what I was used to, so I will answer in that vein, instead; alright? Alright, cool. I'm glad we could agree yet again to do things my way. It is exactly how I prefer it..


No Basements! Of course, it makes perfect sense, the water tables are too high but who in Canada doesn't have a basement?!

The Flora! I was initially amazed by how few palm trees I saw, in ratio to deciduous. It is definitely a misconception to think Florida is all coral colored and nothing but palm trees and sand. The foliage around here is breathtaking and makes me very happy. Everything is rich, lush, green and alive. (Dude! I could have totally been talking about men until I said green. Catch that?)

The smell. That one doesn't get an exclamation point, sorry. Initially when we got here I was amazed at how swampy something could smell, how heavy and humidity-laden the air was. I call it 'eau de alligator piss'. Now, it is something that goes without notice but is invariably the first thing my guests comment on.

The alligators! Dudes. The gators. you don't really realize how far down the food chain a human being can instantly become until you live here. Gators, see my point. I was amazed at how seeing a gator for the first time in the wild (okay, so not the wild, the golf course!) made me feel very small. This thing is totally prehistoric! A direct link to the dinosaurs! And could eat me for dinner right. now. if it wanted to! Gaaah! So what did we do? Whipped out the camera for the photo opp. And when the gator didn't cooperate? The Leester tapped on the head with the ball retriever to get its attention. We come to find out later how fast/far those scaly buggers can move and I had nightmares for a week.

Edited to add: CASE IN POINT.

You remember my whole theory of natural selection post a week or so ago? Yeah, well it would have served us right. Thankfully that gator wasn't particularly hungry, is all I'm gonna say about that.

AW also asked about the biggest misconception Floridians have regarding Canadians. Well, after much thought I have decided that this is best summed up by saying that I have been surprised by how many Americans in general think that we Canadians are entirely foreign. As in, of the 'live in igloos where it is cold all the time, just discovered fire and the wheel, speak a different language, dress differently, look differently, eat different food than them' variety of foreign. It is met with amazement when I tell people that living in Canada is really very much like living in the United States. 'Homogenized, pasteurized, shop at the same stores for the same crap' sort of the same as the United States, for the most part. Yes, there are bridges in Canada! Yes, Canadians celebrate both Thanksgiving and Christmas! Yes, homosexual marriage is legal! ...*screech!!!!!* Okay, so not the same in ALL regards.

I jest, of course, but you would really be surprised at some of the questions I am asked. Truly.

And besides, there is always THIS plethora of knowledge backing me up.

I could go on and on, but wont. Suddenly I am overwhelmed with 'talking endorphins' and am finally sated. I'll be quiet now. See ya tomorrow.

Note to Self:
Dear Self,

From this point on, please refrain from drinking coffee in the afternoon. While we both know it is yummy, it will only serve to keep you awake late into the night.


That is all.


Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Some Answers..
First of all, a major shout out to the friends inside the box, for taking the time to ask. My friends and family outside the box? NO SOUP FOR YOU!!!

Today, I'll answer the easier ones, because I am inherently lazy and the hour is getting late.

Beka-- While The Leester would love, love, LOVE for me to answer your question (If I had to choose one outfit to wear for the rest of my life, what would it be) with something akin to this:
yeah right. Bwahaha..the likelihood of that happening? NOT! Sorry babe! If I could only wear one thing forever and ever, it would be more along the lines of this:
Afterall, I'd have to be comfortable. I can just hear him gnashing his teeth now. He loves my whole 'Jammies' collection to death. Really.

*edited to add: Neither of these exist in my closet, just FYI. Much to The Leester's chagrin.*

Kim asked if I preferred creamy or crunchy peanut butter? Tropical or Deciduous Trees? Favorite Holiday Memory? Do you like Egg Nog?

Well Kim, I definitely prefer smooth peanut butter but will eat the crunchy without complaint. Just so long as there is peanut butter. Tropical trees come first, any day of the year. Tropical anything. One of the things I loved most initially upon moving to Florida was how lush and green everything is, with plants growing from the ground that we as Canadians struggle to keep alive indoors. It is still something that pleases me today. I really like the idea of egg nog more than the egg nog itself. If I drink egg nog I have to mix it with skim milk as it is way too thick on it's own for my taste. My ideal egg nog is generously spiked with spiced rum.

Just ask the Captain, he will tell you!

More answers tomorrow and I promise, I'll tackle some that require thought.

Again to the family and friends outside the box? You suck. Ask me some questions, dammit! Some of you haven't seen me for as long as six years! Surely there are things you might be curious about?? I love you too, ya bastages!

As an aside, this is for my LilSis, also know as BF, or Bitchface. You shall hereafter be known as Molly in Bloggyworld. If you care to know the reasoning behind it, try picking up the phone and calling me. If you can schedule it in between being a hockey Mom and all that, of course.

Monday, November 27, 2006
Interactive Blogging At It's Finest..
Or alternately, the post in which I have NOTHING, so I plead for your help. Topic? What is a topic? I'm drawing a blank here people. So please, help a girl out? Ask me any (and as many) question(s) as you'd like and I will answer in the form of a blog post. Anything at all. Leave your questions anon, if you choose, or own them. I'll give you the straight poop.

I do ask, however, that you understand my need to keep the comments moderated so I can peruse the questions asked and decide if they are suitable for a very general audience. Thank you!

In the meantime, riddle me this.. This weekend I made The Leester watch Titanic with me. Also, I made him do this:
The Love, it is without many conditions.
Does his man card get revoked today, or is he simply on probation?

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend filled with boundless reasons to be thankful and that any travellers not only made it home safely but well rested. Psshhaw. We all know the likelihood of that last bit. rest? What is this rest of which you speak??

Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Turkey Day!
To my American friends. To my Canadian friends? Happy Thursday! I'll think of you. Sorry about the lack of an update yesterday, the Leester and the Prodigy are off for the rest of the week so I do not anticipate being around much.

Yesterday, we were out doing this:
At this place, here:
It was fun! It's always fun, if you ask me.

Can you blame me for being out there, even if it was rather cold? Hell, even the turkeys were trying to get one last game in before dinner!
Sadly for them, they ARE dinner.

Enjoy yours!

Monday, November 20, 2006
My Dog Has An Attitude Problem.
It matches my own. We both like taking orders a lot...can you tell?


Yes, I put clothes on my dog. Wanna make something of it? :P

Sunday, November 19, 2006
United 93
The Leester and I watched this movie tonight, and here we are. The Wee couldn't join us, and that is okay. I understand. It scares him.

I know that by the time I post this it will be tomorrow, and that bugs me, but whaddya do. Except I don't know how to change the, what do you do? On 09/11/01, The Leester and I were busy opening our first bank account in the United States, with the very same bank we deal with today. The lady we dealt with informed us that a small pane had flown into the World Trade Center, just minutes before. If only she knew. If only WE knew! The Leester and I looked at each other, wondering what the hell. We continued on with our business and then The Leester went to work and I went home. I met with my friend Mary at my apartment and continued on as normal, the kids at school and us two, doing our thing, which was usually diet coke and shooting the breeze. Curious, I turned the TV onto CNN and was mortified. To this Canadian girl, it was beyond my comprehension. The World Trade Center, gone? The Pentagon, compromised? United flight 93, crashed into a field somewhere in Pennsylvania?? Beyond my comprehension, truly. Canada is and always has been a peace loving country, as is the United States, but the difference is Canada has never really been a prime target. We just don't do this, honestly. It is beyond the realm of possibilities, to think an enemy would hijack planes and kill thousands, in the name of jihad. Call me naive, sure. Call me ignorant, I agree. Call me stupid, okay! But honestly, Canada hasn't really had the kinds of enemies the United States has, so although it may not be justified, it should be understandable. There we were, three thousand miles from all we knew and loved, wondering if we had made the biggest mistake of our lives. Fielding calls from our families, wondering how we were. Glued to the TV, as was the rest of the world, until it became just too much. I had to force myself to turn it off.

My friend Jeannie was to fly and see us, that very day. Needless to say, she never arrived. Her flight was delayed, for days. I tried to explain to my family and friends that we were okay and not to worry; although in those first few hours I wondered if there would come a time that I would dig through the rubble to find my child at his school. After all, we lived where the President was that day, visiting an elementary school. Until I could no longer stand it and just went ahead and brought him home for the day.

My eyes were opened. I have never felt more pain in my life, mourning for those lost. I still mourn them today, and every day.

I know there is a lot of controversy surrounding the making of these movies, people wondering if it is callous. Wondering where the profit goes. I personally think that if they help people to remember and be aware, then they are beneficial.

Another day in the life of....
Yesterday morning on the way to our golf game, after I sneezed repeatedly. I'm sure it had nothing at all to do with how much cologne someone had on. No, really. My eyes watering and burning? Just one of those things.. Anyway:

Me: "You are supposed to bless me."

Him: "Bless you child, for you have sneezed..."

Me: *smack*

Him: "What, isn't that how it goes?"

Me: "No dork, you are just supposed to say "Bless you, or God Bless you."

Him: "Even sneezing is a sin now?!?"

Me: *eye roll*"I think originally that a sneeze was thought to expel evil spirits so people said 'God Bless you' in order to keep them from reentering your body."

Him: "I know some of my boogers are crusty little devil's, for sure."

The hubs is a nutjob, I tell ya.

Well, turns out I am wrong regarding the origin, apparently one traditional explanation for the custom is that it began literally as a blessing. Pope Gregory I the Great (AD 540-604) ascended to the Papacy just in time for the start of the bubonic plague in AD 590 (his successor succumbed to it). To combat the plague, Gregory ordered litanies, processions and unceasing prayer for God's blessing. When someone sneezed (seen as the initial onset of the plague), they were immediately blessed ("God bless you!") in the hope that they would not actually develop the disease.

Now, arent you glad you know?

Friday, November 17, 2006
Could it be anymore perfect???
Could it be anymore me??? My friend Peggy designed the template for me, for which I am eternally grateful! I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it!!!

Bwaaaaah! I am like a kid at Christmas! I cant believe how happy a little green tree frog and a little orange golf ball can make a person!!


I am so thrilled!! more on Peggy tomorrow!!

Peggy??? I pink puffy heart you!!!!


eta: Peggy's other designs can be seen on her website, easily located by clicking the link under 'credits' in the right hand corner of this page. If anyone is in need of a custom template, talk to Peggy! Obviously she is talented, look at my froggy-golfball page!!

No Soup For You!!!!!
Friday mornings see me taking my little neighbor lady to get her hair done and out for lunch. While she is doing her thing, I can be found at Starbucks (read:fourbucks), where I sit with my coffee (just regular old brewed, thankyouverymuch) and observe the world as it passes by. Some of what I see amazes and astounds me, and not in a good way. Really.

The phenomenon known as bluetooth? HATE. I detest it. That perfectly sane looking people consider it acceptable to have complete conversations with someone who is whispering in their ear while carrying on simultaneous conversations with the people they are accompanied by? Beyond the realm of what I consider basic decency and respect. I just cannot fathom it. Or people talking on them while using public facilities? Excuse me? Can whatever you need to say not wait until you finish up and flush? I cannot imagine. A public restroom, especially. Gawd! In that regard, I guess washing ones hands would be a stretch of the imagination.

The very well-dressed middle aged lady that I witnessed blowing a snot-rocket on the ground as she made her way into Costco? *RETCH* You eat with those very same hands you wiped your nose with?? Repulsive. Enough so that I made it known, out loud, as she walked by me. I believe I could be heard shrieking and cringing away from her for city blocks. I am certain that she could have found a Kleenex in Costco, had she restrained herself. Do these people not even have basic manners??

Call me a manner Nazi if you'd like, but I am a hard-ass. I blame it on my upbringing. No, actually, I THANK my upbringing. It went something like this:

Sit up straight. Shoulders back. Stomach in. Elbows off the table. Chew with your mouth closed. Set your fork down between bites. That is a salad fork, not an entree fork. Hold your fork like this, not like that. Use a gentle sawing motion with your knife, don't hack at it. And so on...

Kinda sounds like my parents were manner-Nazi's as well, doesn't it? Thank God! I can cheerfully sit through any meal with anyone, regardless of their station in life and know that I will not show my ass. (At least not because of how I eat, anyway. There is no telling what may or may not come out of my mouth, however, much to the chagrin of my parents; who can be heard muttering that they raised me to be a lady and not a sailor on any given day) I know which utensil is used for what, what a proper table setting is and how to present myself. It is called civilized, people! It does NOT entail chewing something and deciding midway that I do not like it and spitting the offending matter out onto my plate. Nor does it mean sitting up to a table as though I am half participating, legs off to the side of my chair, or spinning my fork around in my hand like it is a baton.

Ask the men in my life. I am constantly parroting what I heard growing up and I tell you with pride that my son also knows how to eat properly. He will address you as Sir or Ma'am out of respect, if you ask him a question. He will open the door for a lady and/or hold it open if someone approaches him as he reaches the entrance somewhere. He will walk on the outside of a sidewalk and offer a girl the inside, out of respect, when he is old enough to date. Even now, he will open the car door for me and shut it behind me after I have seated myself. In my opinion, this is how things should be and I am proud of him for it.

I think the world is becoming less civilized because we are abandoning the very basics in our rushed lives. I believe something very important is being lost in the process.

Now aren't you glad I shared that with you??

Say it with me, people. BIT-CHAY.

I just cant help it. Some things really irritate me.

Thursday, November 16, 2006
Seeing Red
But oh, so not angry.
053106 830
053106 726
053106 732

Tommy Toes
053106 816

Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Theory of Natural Selection.
Ripped from the headlines. *Que Law & Order theme music*

The Orlando Sentinel

You know, call me cold and callous, but I have a VERY hard time feeling anything but anger for situations like this, when found floating in the general location of the boat are two child-sized life vests, zippers closed; indicating they were not in use. When the parents report seeing the missing eight year old struggling to get into one of them as the fishing boat was sinking. I understand and sympathize with how heartbroken these parents must be. Truly, I do. I cannot even begin to imagine the level of pain I would feel, or even if it is something I could ever get beyond; were I to lose my child. I am amazed that the father managed to swim as far as he did, his three month old child held above his head. I do not doubt for a minute their love for their children or their intent, but it leaves me scratching my head when it is made known that those very parents took three small children out on a boat without lifejackets.

What the hell? Does that not scream preventable to you? Or very likely so? Certainly, it would have greatly increased their chances of survival. I would imagine they will spend the rest of their lives wondering the very same thing. Tragedy, in it's most true form.

I have little patience for the most basic stupidities. People that refuse to implement safety devices as a means of protecting the lives of themselves and those in their care unable to make such a decision on their own, for whatever reason? Well, they piss me off. It doesn't get much simpler than self preservation, in my opinion.

It is heartbreaking. Sure, you have some that argue that it infringes on their rights. That in many cases it would have ended their life instead of save it. SHUT UP!! They are LAWS for a reason. GAWD!

Which brings me to today's astute observations.

I am a Christian. I am certainly not the best Christian, by any means, but I believe in creation. I believe in God, as the Creator. I believe in intelligent design, absolutely, because I believe in God's intelligence. One can argue for days, weeks, months and even years about theology and I welcome you to have your own beliefs. One cannot, however, argue with Darwin's theory of natural selection.. because let me tell you, it is absolutely evident. And if you disagree? Let me help you along.

The guy you inevitably read about who is holding up traffic for many hours on the Golden Gate bridge, threatening to jump? Dude. Here, lemme help you along.


Dont waste my time. If you are going to do it, do it. To me, natural selection at it's finest. Survival of the fittest and all that.

Monday, November 13, 2006
A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is politics?"

Dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I am the head of the family, so call me The President. Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government. We are here to take care of your needs, so we call you the People. The nanny, we consider her the Working Class. And your baby brother, we call him the Future! Now think about that and see if it makes sense. So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what his dad has said.

Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper. So the little boy goes to his parents room and finds his mother asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he go to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny.

He gives up and goes back to bed.

The next morning the little boys says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now." The father says, "good son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about." The little boy replies, "The President is screwing the Working Class while the Government is sound asleep. The People are being ignored while the Future is in deep shit."


*Yes, I misspelled the title on purpose. Duh.*

Sunday, November 12, 2006
Red Neck Disney
Well, Disney has finally done it. They have made the first official redneck animated movie. For those of you that haven't seen it, I am referring to the movie 'Cars' and believe me, it just doesn't get more red necked than that! Picture, if you will, a NASCAR themed cartoon that brings you guest appearances from the likes of Dale Jr., Richard Petty and Darryl Waltrip; to name just a few.


The premise is that the selfish car, 'Lightning McQueen', must make it cross-country to the 'Piston Cup' race after a mishap and in the quest to do so, learns all about friendship. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Cute? Perhaps, but much like every other film Disney has done. Pixar does great work, of course, so I always enjoy watching them for that reason alone. The attention to detail is astounding. It is also an occasion where I can manage to get the prodigy to sit with his parents for almost two hours and hang out with us. An occurrence growing more rare by the day.

Anyone who has lived anywhere near the South understands that NASCAR fans around here are a breed of their own. I am not sure if it is a geographical thing or not, perhaps it is Countrywide, but certainly around here, they are somewhat...passionate about things. You can tell them coming by the number stickers attached to their vehicles, and oft by the rebel flags tucked into the window or incorporated somehow via bumper sticker, t-shirt or license plate frame. Sometimes the gun-rack in the rear window of their half-ton truck is the key noticeable feature and dead giveaway.

Watching the movie 'Cars' was hilarious. They made it so well, with so many things true to life that it had me laughing. The motor homes, in the center of the track, depicted as wearing beer-hats? Funny stuff! The one pictured as though floating in a blow-up swimming pool, cold beer in hand and cooler close by? A scream! You hear people call in to our local talk radio station after the big race weekends talking about exactly that. Imagine it. A funky-assed pool, no chemicals or circulation, a bunch of drunk strangers coming by and asking if they can take a dip, all weekend long! And don't picture a small pool here, picture your typical above ground semi-permanent one. The bigger, the better. A status symbol, if you will. Doesn't it make you want to bring yours? To rush out and attend a drunken event? Yeah, I thought not.

Although I have never been to a NASCAR race and well, don't intend to go, The Leester and The Wee went to the Daytona 500. Tickets obtained by me when the grocery store I frequent gave them to me. They claim it was an experience. A loud one, but very cool to see just the same. I think I stayed home and got a pedicure or something.

Blame me?

*disclaimer: When I use the term redneck, it is not used as a slight. Anyone that is familiar with the breed understands it is a label worn with pride. And honestly? They are a breed, all their own.

Thursday, November 09, 2006
Jive Talkin....
Well, after all the interest in the contents of the Drawer of Doom, it saddens me to report that I was referring to nothing more than the knife drawer in my kitchen. The one that The Leester makes me sign a disclaimer for before opening, if he lets me use it at all, because I am so accident prone. Okay, well not quite that bad, but I am rather clumsy. I do wish it was more interesting than that though!

Katya, you are crazy, if you actually enjoy having your legs waxed! The thing is though, here in FL, where shops are a dime a dozen? It's all of twenty bucks to have it done. Crazy, right? When referring to the experience as religious it was more along the lines of:

*wax on, cloth strip on, riiiiiiip*


*wax on, cloth strip on, riiiiiiip*


*wax on, cloth strip on, riiiiiiip*


*wax on, cloth strip on, riiiiiiip*


*wax on, cloth strip on, riiiiiiip*


*wax on, cloth strip on, riiiiiiip*


So you see, not so much my thing. It HURT. A LOT. Kind of like how having the hair at your temples pulled hurts. Or hitting your knee-cap on the edge of a table hurts. Or the ever-loving funny bone smash hurts. the end result, however, is awesome. So much so, that in the name of vanity, I will do it again. And again. And even again. Because what could be better than a little self torture if it means not having to shave the legs??

p.s. Kimba, you are to be thanked for todays title. I woke up this morning and it was finally gone, but after reading your comment it is back. I hereby pass the Bee-Gee's and their Jive Talkin back to you for the day.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Who's on First?

Sick of seeing my pretty flowers yet? Yes? This will be the last time I'll show them to you, okay? Deal? Actually, I put them up today as a point of reference, and also because I am really amazed at how well they are holding up. Just today they are starting to show signs of wilting. Pretty impressive, isn't it? They have outlasted my funk, which is cool (might even be cause to celebrate, cause that is a feat in itself). I don't know if it has been the moon phase, the month, the impending holidays, or what; but I am totally over myself. Gawd! I have been walking around with a dark cloud for a while now but it appears to be lifting. I kind of sensed it last night, when while trying to go to sleep I had the song 'Jive Talkin' going through my mind. It's kind of hard to be bitchy...yanno? Until that song turns me homicidal, then watch out. But it could be worse, it could be 'It's a small world'.

At any rate, I digress! When The Leester bought me the roses, I made mention about what The Wee said regarding all of it, that they were a thank-you gift; for having my legs waxed. Which? Implies ugly, hairy legs in need of some serious attention. Like European women's Olympic softball team hairy. And that, my friends, is some seriously scary shit and may even cost me my readership! Wouldn't you say it's time I defend myself??

You see, here is the thing. I am not an overly girly-girl. I never really have been and odds are, I never will be. I do not wear much make-up. Rarely, in fact, and even less so than I might, given the fact that my husband and son hate it. They don't have any problems with how it looks, but The Leester? The dude cannot handle the smell of face powder. Or any make-up, for that matter. You see, he has this thing. This thing where twice in his life, he has been the last person the dying have spoken to. One of those people was his Grandmother, who spoke to him (and only him) from her death-bed. His Grandmother must have smelled like face powder or something, because now? The face powder smells like death to The Leester. And that? That really isn't the vibe I am into sending The Hubs, most days. As I am sure you can understand, right? Consequently, no make-up for this chick. Which really, works in my favor. I don't have to deal with it! My skin is pretty decent without it, thank God and good genes, and that is that. Done. Not only that, but my husband has this mysterious power to kill women in make-up!

Can ya blame me for refraining??

So anyways! I am neither a real girly-girl in the make-up, high heels sense, nor am I a hairy chick. (Thank God!) While that much is true, its not like I just don't bother shaving my legs or whatever, which brings me back to my point. Rather circuitous and difficult route to follow that it has been thus far; I know! Stay with me! While I am neither overly girly or overly hairy (shew), I certainly do have my vanities. My hair (the hair on my head!), for example. You don't want to mess with the hair, because someone might die. Most are not even allowed to touch my hair. It's just a thing, okay? A thing as a result of everybody wanting to do exactly that. Pet my hair as I walk by. (What is it about long, naturally curly hair of the reddish variety that people just feel like they have to touch it? Or grab a handful and sniff it?? Ugh!) Also, my skin. My skin must be soft and silky, without blemish. Such as the kind of blemish that I self inflict, every. damn. time. I. shave. my. legs! (Perhaps I am not so coordinated either and should not be trusted with sharp objects, alright? Such as the disposable razor. Ask me about the drawer of doom sometime. Oy!) Soooo anyways, I decided to tough it out for a couple weeks and have my legs waxed. Which is where The Wee's statement came from. It just so happens that the day The Leester gave me the roses was the day I had the gams waxed.

Which? Religious. Stay tuned tomorrow, I'll tell you about it.

Perhaps I'll also let you know if I made the cut for the European Women's Olympic Softball team.


Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Sometimes I am overwhelmed if I spend too much time thinking about all that is wrong in the world. All of the pain and suffering, all of the weary and downtrodden, all of the starvation, loneliness, abused and mistreated. It hurts me, to be aware that I cannot make enough changes to make a difference. That I am unable to solve the small problems, let alone the world's problems. That people hurt, all the time.

And then my Dad sends me something like this, reducing me to tears first thing in the morning (thanks Dad...I have a rep to protect you know!) and I realize that sometimes it is about focusing on the smaller picture. Seeing where the changes need to begin.

*Music By Sick Puppies*

See how easy it can be? What will you do, today, to make a difference?

If you are eligible, get out there and vote. Please? Do your part to make the difference that way. Those of us that don't have that right wait anxiously to be able to do so. Your vote IS the way to make a difference where it counts.

Stay tuned for tomorrow, where I will return to being my snarky-assed self. Promise.

Monday, November 06, 2006
Way to suck the life out of it....
Well, I lasted what, six days? I am hereby removing myself from this blog every day for thirty days nonsense so that I can go back to writing on here because I want to and not because I feel like I have to or somehow my head will explode or something.

I have found for the past six days that this has become a chore to me and since that kind of defeats the whole purpose of my blogging, I am throwing in the towel.

As well, I am never on my computer on the weekends. I am out doing things with my family, which is far more important to me than finding the time to be here.

Thanks for understanding, dear reader! I will still be shooting for five days a week, but I can't make any promises. Unless of course we have an agreement that they are made to be broken? Cause if so, I am in like Flynn!

Best of luck to everyone else participating!!!

Sunday, November 05, 2006
Happiness Is....
Red, Shiny, something to pee on....
Puppy paws....big goofy, uncoordinated St. Bernard puppy paws...
Belonging to this guy right here, who was adorable beyond measure...
Thirsty? We were!!!
Or Divot pretended, anyways, to shelter from this guy....
And when that didn't work, he hid here....
Do you blame him????

Saturday, November 04, 2006
Saturday, What a Day.
Sometimes, I am awed by the ways The Leester is able to surprise me, making me feel absolutely cherished. No occasion, just because.
Pretty in Pink
Needless to say, someone gets high marks in the husband books today.
Right now though, that very someone is sitting with his feet up, after partaking of far too much food at Crazy Buffet.
The Wee asked his Dad if the roses were his way of thanking me for going and having my legs waxed.

Asking both of them to be gentlemen on the same day would be too much. That sort of thing only happens on Christmas.

Friday, November 03, 2006
Insanity, Ulcers and the American Dream
Well, it's been done now. We have made our decision regarding the house, the deposits have been paid and moving dates have been set. I question my sanity regarding a lot of things, but especially the moving date. Who in their right mind takes possession of a home on January 1st, I ask you? It certainly leaves little doubt about whether or not I am in my right mind, yes? As you can imagine, I relish the idea of being surrounded by boxes over the holidays almost as much as I look forward to the joy of packing--about as much fun as chewing on broken glass.
This is where The Family G will call home for the next two years. We have agreed to a two year lease as requested by the homeowner (we will be renting) because it is also something that works well for us. Although I dread the actual chore of moving, it will be nice to be in a house once again, as opposed to an apartment.
Since moving to FL, and contingent to The Leesters work VISA, we have learned to live our lives in blocks of time. One, two, three and seven year increments, with seven being the biggie. Seven is how many more years we can look to working towards getting our citizenship (FINALLY) if all goes according to plan and comes off without a hitch. We are again facing the time that we play a lot of back and forth with immigration attorneys and then we hurry up and wait.

Wish us luck!

Thursday, November 02, 2006
It's a Small World, Afterall.
Disregard completely the blatant Disney reference, if you will. Since although we live in O-town and have for a couple years now, we have never been to any Kingdom, magical or otherwise. I know; right? How can we live right here and not have partaken of all things Disney, at least once?? You see, the thing is, The Boy Wonder and The Leester have absolutely zero interest in a theme park if it does not offer thrills and spills. Crazy roller coasters? They are right there. Nausea and vertigo inducing adrenaline rushes? Sold! Standing in line for an hour in order to feel the thrill of a ride of terror that lasts all of ninety seconds? Consider it done.

Experiencing the Magic? Not so much. Any of my Gal-Pals wish to accompany me to Disney World so we can stroll down memory lane and remember what the magic was all about? Yeah, I thought not. So, as you can see, I wont be going to Disney World anytime soon.

As I was saying, disregard all that completely. What I was referring to was something else that took place for the Family G. on Halloween, specifically for The Wee.

As a pass time, The Wee likes to play World Of Warcraft. For that matter, so does The Wee's mother. It is a lot of fun and vastly entertaining. Well, I am hyper-sensitive with regards to my sons time spent playing this game and basically any time he spends online. We have very specific rules and regulations that if broken, will determine the end of said entertainment, completely and permanently. Over the course of the past six months or so, The Wee has had the occasion to get to know quite well, a young man from California. (I use "young man" in the same connotation that I would speak of The Wee, not as in pedophile or something sketchy. Stay with me here) The Wee is only allowed to provide his first name to someone, never anymore information than that. After playing the game with this young man over a period of time and speaking to each other over their respective computers, The Wee asked me if they could talk to each other on the phone, while playing the game. After some consideration, I decided to allow it, so these two characters have been burning up the airwaves as they plan their raids and how best to PvP someone. I have, upon no notice, taken the phone out of my sons hand and spoken to the person on the other end. I am confident that this other person is who he says he is, a kid the same age as my son, that happens to live on the other side of the continent.

Well, imagine my surprise when at 10:30 at night, The Wee's cell phone rings and when I check the voice mail message (Yes, I also police his voice mail. As well as his email. Hard-ass? Perhaps, but I am responsible for his safety, health and well-being. A task I take seriously.), hear that it is his friend, having just landed in O-Town for vacation and looking to possibly meet at Halloween Horror Nights.


That? That, dear reader, was the sound of brakes. Yes, exactly. All of a sudden this has gone to a whole new level here. Now all of a sudden it is questions of voice changing software, pedophiles, kidnappings and even uglier things. All of the things I, as a mother, secretly fear could happen to my child. Now all of a sudden he is a teenager and I have less control. He is more independent and is growing up far too quickly for my tastes. Where does one draw the line at over protective and suffocating? Well, let me tell you something. After careful consideration, The Leester and I decided that yes, we would allow The Wee to meet his friend from California. It was a controlled environment, we would be with him, there would be a bajillion people around and little likelihood something untoward could happen.

Do you think me crazy yet? Crazier?

We got to Universal Studios and via a game of phone tag, met his friend in front of Dueling Dragons.

Where we also met another set of nervous parents. Nervous parents of a very normal, pleasant young man whom I think is a great friend for The Wee. A friend who would have never come into question had The Wee met him at school, or in the neighborhood. In addition to a set of nervous parents (One of whom is a CA Highway Patrol officer, so obviously hyper-aware of the inherent risks as well), we met the kid's Grandparents, his brother and his younger sister. It was really a very neat experience and we had a lot of fun. We also have plans to get together for dinner while they are here on vacation and I believe we will meet them for a day spent at Universal Studios.

Which brings me to that whole small world thing. This crazy Internet and that whole WWW thing. Sometimes it is astounding to me, how much the world is changing as a result of it. Shrinking drastically and erasing boundaries with it, both good and bad.


Wednesday, November 01, 2006
I made it!
So...Day one. Good thing I didn't promise an early morning post for each day in November, right? Truth be known, I was tempted to say screw it for today as I am tired. We spent Halloween with the boy at Universal Studios for Halloween Horror Nights and did not get in until after 1:00. That is far too late for this old girl, let me tell you. We let the kid play hookie today and The Leester took the day off and we intended to sleep late and recover from our night on the town.

Instead, The Leester and I were up at the crack of dawn and off golfing. Surprise, surprise, right? Yeah...for sure.

Tonight, I leave you with a glimpse of our Halloween. See you tomorrow!

Hallows Eve
Twas a dark and stormy night...okay, so it wasn't stormy but the fog machines were out in full force.
The Fog
The stage was set, replete with eerie music and sound effects.
Oh, for fog's sake!
Leaving a cloud so dense you had to wade through it, barely able to see what might be waiting to jump out at you.
Bloody Awful
Scary things, with growling voices, in all shapes and sizes.
Big and small, chasing us around with chainsaws.
Seriously Scary Midget
Even the littlest of horrors, enough to make me jump.
Dark Harvest
Leaving little doubt about what my nightmares will be made of, taunting me.
Until next Halloween. If it's all the same to you, I'll take stories of a different variety.

Until tomorrow.