Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Does anyone smell that?

A lot of you know that we got a new-to-us car a few weeks ago. When we cleaned out the old van for trade-in, we took out a lot of used kleenex, drink cups, crumpled pieces of paper, assorted detritus and 2.5 kilos of ground beef with a "packed on" date of September 2009. Wait. What?

I blame those new fangled cloth environmental bags. The old plastic bags used to crackle and looked out of place in the back of a trunk. Nowadays I have to keep the cloth bags in the car at all times because I'll forget them at home. So obviously when I came home from Costco that fateful fall day and put the meat bag in the back, it blended in with the probably 20 other empty cloth bags back there, mummy-brain kicked in and voila. A perfect storm.

It was September so it never really got stinking (pun intended) hot again. The meat never went septic. Then winter came and the beef just froze and thawed over and over until we found it. It was in a state of defrost under the back seat and leaking... let's call it red juice... when Scott discovered the bag. I'm just super thankful that we didn't decide to get rid of the car in July.


Tuesday, March 30, 2010

So my new neighbour Daisy came over yesterday

and just to let you know I did end up showing her around. Just a few rooms and it felt right. So thanks for the advice, you guys. We had tea and coffee and chatted for a couple hours about nothing in particular. She even brought me a box of my favourite cookies. Aaah, the life of the unemployed.


Monday, March 29, 2010

Tooth Fairy question

Last week I was going through an old diary looking for information on my cat. For your information I found out he's 12 years old. Anyway, I love looking at my old journals. They're full of pithy insights and thought-provoking statements. There is no sign of insane ramblings or ridiculous jabberings. None at all. That having been said, please let me show you what I wrote on Wednesday 22 January, 2003:

"I just played Tooth Fairy again. I love having kids! I left a toonie under Elliott's pillow. The problem is the teeth because I have 4 now in my jewellry box. How long do I keep them? What do I do with them? I feel like a strangeoid saving teeth. Maybe a craft project? Two alliterative words: Macabre maracas."

That was 2003. Today my jewellry box is heaving with 33 teeth. I used to make an effort to separate them, keeping track of whose teeth were whose but now they're all mixed together in a spooky New Orleans voodoo curse kinda pile. So my question still stands: What do I do with them? Am I really expected to throw them out?

Oh, and before you freak out and mention that Audrey will read this, I went into my Facebook settings and blocked her from seeing anything I post. So I'm back to swearing in my status updates. Okay, I never swore in my status updates.


Friday, March 26, 2010

Wow! No blog in the hopper for today!

So I'm writing this one on the fly for the first time in ages! Live to air, so to speak.

I'm all dressed and ready to go grocery shopping and I'm wearing (among actual clothing) really red lipstick, a favourite of my mum's, and her pearl earrings. Why? Because I dreamt about her last night.

I love dreaming about my mother. It happens once every few months and I really treasure them. So this is that happened:

My mother, my aunt Bernice (her next oldest sister and spitting image of her) and I were sitting on a couch together. Mum was wearing a blue striped turtleneck that I loved but gave to Goodwill years ago when I got too fat it shrunk. She told us that she had a scan and the original cancer was gone but there was something new and she pointed to her breasts. She wasn't sad at all, her eyes were twinkling and she had a huge sheepish grin on her face like she was telling us that she accidentally left the parking brake off and let the car go down the driveway into traffic.

I started to cry while my aunt comforted me and my mother rushed up and out of the room. She came back with a large, gorgeous, brown worn leather designer purse and told me she wanted me to have it. Even after 15 years long gone the woman still knows how to cheer me up. I look inside and among the old kleenexes, Halls lozenges and purse dust, I found two ticket stubs from a ballet that she and I had gone to at Place Des Arts in 1977 when I was 10.

Then the alarm went off and I was still crying. How strange was that dream? So since today is errand day, I'm going to get a lotto ticket and play 1-9-7-7. Maybe it's an omen. Of course it could mean that I'm destined to spend $1,977 dollars on a new bag. So either way it's a win.


Thursday, March 25, 2010

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

I was getting ready for the day the other day and it occurred to me that because I have nowhere to go I have all the time in the world to finish up. It took about 40 minutes from start to finish. I listened to music, went in and out of the bathroom and basically faffed around until I was ready. Ready for grocery shopping but that's neither here nor there.

Yesterday I performed an experiment. I went from bed to makeupped and ready as if I was late for something. Why? I said it before and I'll say it again: I think I may be clinically depressed. No reason, that's why. My alarm clock went off and I was showered and completely ready in 15 minutes. See what happens when you have no hair to fix? I suggest this haircut to anyone. So what did I do when I was finished getting ready as if I was in flames? I baked a cake and did 3 loads of sheets. Oooh, yeah, I'm a rebel, yo.

How can I be Black and still not get away with that "yo"? Too old?


Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The longer I'm online,

the carefuller (Yes, it's a word. I typed it, didn't I?) I have to be.

When I first started this blog I talked about everything and anything I wanted. I swore quite a bit and was extremely opinionated. Check some of the old ones from 2006/07 if you don't believe me. I was clever but that was waaaay back when I had 5 to 10 readers a day.

As of yesterday's blog (you know the crappy one I literally did in 5 minutes) I now have on average over 70 readers a day. I feel like Perez Hilton some days. These readers include friends, former colleagues, old bosses, my husband, some (surprisingly few, actually) family and, also as of yesterday, my little girl.

This blog is automatically linked to Twitter, Google Buzz and Facebook where I'm now Audrey's "friend". For the last few years I've become keenly aware of my vast readership so I've been checking myself a bit when it comes to posting. Being a little more politically correct, watching my language and generally behaving myself. But now there's something a little different at work here. My baby girl, the one I gave life to, the one in whom I'm trying to instil a sense of right and wrong and values, the one who doesn't quite yet have the ability to know when one is being sarcastic or exaggerating (especially in writing) has access to my blog. So people, I hope you like vanilla and the exotic seasonings of salt and pepper.

Okay, you know that's not going to last very long, don't you? Looks like another "teaching moment" is on the horizon...


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Well this should be interesting...

I just set a timer for 5 minutes. I've decided to try to write a blog in that time. Why? Because I don't feel like blogging and because I made a commitment 4 years ago so I'm doing it. What am I going to write about in 5 minutes? Will I go back and correct mistakes? The answers are: nothing and yes. I'm not counting mistake correction or photo searching in the 5 minutes.

So is my time up yet? No? Geez, it's going by slowly. And you are getting a fantastic blog for your patience. Aren't you? Okay, let's do a stream-of-conciousness thing... let's see:

  • "Cake Boss" is on tv
  • The kids are in bed
  • Scott is at hockey
  • I'm worried that I should be working on my daycare contracts (I'll explain when I have more time)

there goes the timer.

That sucked, eh? Almost as bad as my haiku "poetry". Hey, I'll have to write one of those for you guys next time I'm too tired to blog. Oops, I'm going over...


Monday, March 22, 2010

Karen Fun Fact

I rarely turn off the tv.

I turn on the tv at about 9 in the morning and it goes off at about 11:30pm but I actually sit down and watch only 2 shows per day (before prime time, that is); Maury and All My Children. As for the rest of the day, I listen as I go about my day cooking, cleaning and laundering. The other day the power went out and I was completely freaked even though it was daytime. The house was way too quiet. It's so completely silent when the power is out. You don't even realise how much noise a refrigerator makes until it doesn't.

But back to the tv. Some parents limit the amount that their kids watch but I never do. Because that would mean limiting the time the tv is on in general, thus punishing me. Besides, taking away the tv makes it more attractive, right? I very often find the tv in the kids' playroom off and them playing a board game.

So that's today's Karen Fun Fact. We have 4 tvs in the house but incidentally none in the master bedroom. That would totally turn me into a bedsore riddled 400lb shut-in. And no one wants to deal with that.


Friday, March 19, 2010

You won...


Okay, not so much you but us. And not so much win but bought. Also, kinda not new but "new to us". But there's a late model car in our driveway and we can drive it so the statement is sort of valid.

It's a 2007 Ford Freestar SEL and it's pretty sweet. Anything is better than the rusted turn-of-the-millennium, quarter of a million kilometres driven hulk of a minivan I was driving just the day before. I didn't want to post about the shopping process because it's tedious and frankly, I threw my hands up after contending with test drives and pushy salesmen and shopping at every car dealership within a 100km radius. Ugh.

But happy ending and all that and yesterday was my first drive. Not counting driving the kids nuts by sitting in the laneway for 10 minutes, pressing every button and flipping every switch before we left. I've become quite proficient at flipping the windshield wipers. All I need now is a sudden downpour. We went to the store to buy toys for what the kids have started calling "The Shakemobile". New car smell freshener, seatback organiser and garbage. I even bought fuzzy dice. What can I say? I've never had a car this close to the current model year before.


Thursday, March 18, 2010

March Break update

Let's see: Audrey has been bored at least 3 times a day since Monday and the boys have never met a first person shooter they didn't like. Now they're killing zombie Nazis. All 3 of them have spent at least 70% of the time inside although it has been the warmest, sunniest March Break week in the history of recorded time.

It doesn't help that I enjoy being indoors cooking and cleaning and don't notice they've been in the house all day until 5 o'clock in the afternoon.

We've been on walks, went to the Wild Bird Sanctuary and hockey games. Not too exciting but why am I the one who has to amuse them? They are 13, 11 and 10. Is it really my responsibility to occupy them? If left up to me, I'd have them cleaning. They really don't want me to find something to do.

When I was a kid, I was out riding bikes and roller skating all day with my brother and my friends and didn't come home until the street-lights came on. I know it's a different world out there but how can bikes, sidewalk chalk, bubble stuff, a treehouse, 2 feet, a couple of parks within a 2 minute walk, warm, sunny days, friends nearby and green grass equal "I'm bored"?


Wednesday, March 17, 2010

I love mp3s

I've had one for years and years. The first 2 I got weren't iPods because I was grumpy about the fact that Steve Jobs cornered the market on downloading music. Then I finally got one and the rest is history. Damn that Jobs and his succubus iTunes.

Anyway, over the 10 years or so of me owning a "music machine" as I call it, I have a few songs that I have to have. From the machine that only held about 30 songs (if they were short) to my latest that has over 1100 and can still hold more, I copy these over without fail to every new machine. Just another one of my weird habits.

  • Tom's Diner by Suzanne Vega (I heard it was the first song ever recorded to mp3. It's a mini history lesson)
  • She is Beautiful by Andrew WK (Great song for running. The beats are exactly my pace and I like to pretend he's singing about me)
  • Blister in the Sun by Violent Femmes (never forget that I'm an 80s lady)
  • How Soon is Now? by the Smiths (What can I say? I'm a bit of a fan)
That's it. Those are the songs. It isn't many because when you have an mp3 player that only holds a couple of songs, you want to rotate out as many as possible. But I just couldn't bear to ever erase those.


Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Mabel by the numbers

In honour of my mother's birthday today, I'm going to go through her life by the numbers:

  • 74: How old she would have been today
  • 61: How old she was when she died
  • 7: the number of her brothers and sisters: Jemmie, Charles, Bernice, Maud, Henry, ummm... dammit.
  • 1: number of times I saw her skipping rope
  • 104 (at least): number of times I went to her first to calm the waters before broaching something with my dad
  • 10: number of dagger-like, perfectly manicured fingernails she always had
  • 2: number of times (to my knowledge) she lied to my father's face to save my ass
  • 15: number of years we've endured without her
A sidebar that I thought would be relevant for this post: Last week Audrey just out of the blue mentioned that when she's in a bad mood, she goes to our spare room where there is a nice painting of my mum and talks to it. They've never met. I love that she does that.

I'm thinking of you mum... and by the way, I found out that "jo" is a real and valid Scrabble word. So I apologise for all the ribbing I always gave you and I concede. You win.


Monday, March 15, 2010

Beware the Ides Of March

That quote is something told to Caesar by a soothsayer. Shakespeare, people. See, I'm more than just a pretty face. Got a bit of a brain too. That said, this post has nothing to do with Shakespeare or Julius Caesar. Or anything brainy for that matter.

Today is the first day of March break for the kids. My ideal week off with the kids would entail lots of cooking or cleaning on their parts and waiting on me hand and foot while I watched tv and napped. Maybe I'd go on a couple of shopping trips while they stayed home and cleaned out their closets. Siiigh. Heaven.

Unfortunately for me (and fortunately for them), we have more sane plans. A movie on one of the days, a trip to a museum or gallery on another and maybe even a field trip if we get a nice day. Of course it can't be March Break without the obligatory medical professional's appointment (this time the dentist) and naturally I have to fulfil just a part of my dream by making them clean their rooms. I'm a mother first and foremost, don't forget. A sane, fully-marbled mother who in no way wishes to leave her children alone while she goes shopping. Do you think they bought that?


Friday, March 12, 2010

One habit of a highly ineffective person

When someone new comes over to your place, do you give them a tour of your house or just let them hang out with you?

My mother always gave people the tour so I'm always thrown when I don't get one. Then I realize that maybe it's just another one of those weird West Indian habits that "normal" people don't do like eating the kiwi skin, covering the furniture with plastic or never wearing shoes indoors.

The other day I went to a new neighbour's house. She was very kind and gracious (2 cups of tea and my favourite cookies) but she never showed me around. No problem, but because I grew up that way, do I show her around my place when I finally reciprocate? I'm so stressed about this. I just want to be a regular person but my West Indian crazy mask always seems to poke past my Karen face.


Thursday, March 11, 2010

And to think I nearly didn't go...

So last week I grocery shopped and ran errands for hours and hours and I was finally done. I wanted to buy a pack of undies but I was so tired just I wanted to go home. I hemmed and hawed about going and I finally decided to get it over with. I headed to Zellers, picked them up and headed to the checkout. I got behind a lady that took out a pile of envelopes chitchatting about something or other with the cashier. Great. I just wanted to get out of there. I searched around for another line and heard the cashier call out to a man nearby, "I can help you over here, sir!"

Yay! I followed the voice and got into the line behind the guy. I looked up. And up. The "gentleman" in front of me was massive. At least 6'5, 350lbs. But let me tell you about his getup. And, trust me, "getup" is the only word to describe what this "man" was wearing.

  • tattered Superman t-shirt
  • army boots
  • leather kilt
  • floor length red velvet hooded cape (straight out of Red Riding Hood)
Now picture the man himself. He was big but in no way scary. He looked like one of those dorky man-boys who spend what little time away from his mother's basement revelling in a live Lord Of The Rings role-playing game in the forest. Large, overweight, weird scruffy beard, ponytail... hey! I just realized I'm describing the Simpson's Comicbook Guy (did you know his name is Jeff Albertson? You'll thank me when you win that radio trivia question). Oh, I almost forgot. He was buying a large Nerf sword. I kid you not.

The lady behind me shamelessly started to giggle. She had balls, this one. She asked him what he was doing and he replied "I always dress like this. These are my normal clothes." Er, yeah. The lady started to howl with laughter.

When he bought his sword and left (did I forget to mention he was buying a Nerf sword?), the cashier and I locked eyes then we both started to laugh along with the lady behind me who had never stopped. We agreed that it takes all kinds to make a world then went about our respective days.

But to think; if I had decided to keep wearing ratty undies, I would have never had a blog for today.


Wednesday, March 10, 2010

What's in your bedside table?

Bow Chicka Wow-Wow. Let's get sexy! Okay, you know me well. Nothing sexy in it. At all. As Elliott would say, my bedside table is an "epic fail".

The unit I have has 2 large drawers and a smaller one at the top. One large drawer is crammed with pyjamas. The risqué type consisting of flannel pants and tank tops. There's a white tank in there with racy droplet stains on the front. That is, if you think chocolate cake batter splatter stains are racy. Some people do. A tip: never pull the beaters out of the bowl while they're still spinning.

The other large drawer is full of bathing suits. I only wear one so why I can barely shut it is beyond me. It's because I have an aversion to getting rid of them. I can't throw them out because they're in fine condition. I can't donate them because, well, who'd buy a used bathing suit? So there you go. Bathing suits of every style and every size (What's that at the bottom? A string bikini top? Was I ever able to pull that off? I was, dammit.)

Okay. Now for the suggestive stuff in the top drawer. Ready?
  • a diary (2 blogs and she still writes in a diary every night? How does she do it?)
  • 2 Archie comics (Shut up.)
  • eyeglasses and case
  • 2 ipods ("you can never have too many" says the book of Jobs)
  • earbuds
  • 6 pens (you never know when a writing emergency will come up)
  • hand sanitizer (because, ummm, of sexy stuff? Yeah, that's it)
  • crossword puzzle book (because I'm a massive dork and mercilessly ignore the love of my life lying 3 inches to my right)
  • hand lotion (My hands get dry. I wish I could tell you it's for something less boring.)
  • chapstick (for the lips above the equator, sicko)
  • a notebook (to write down my ridiculous reality based dreams)
  • room deodoriser (you try sleeping next to a man for over 20 years and see if you don't need it)
  • eye pack (ditto above)
Woo. Is it hot in here or is it just me? No? Nothing?


Tuesday, March 9, 2010

I had my physical last week

I'm completely healthy. Blood pressure, cholesterol, sugars... frankly, I was surprised by this since I'm 42 and my diet is shocking. Very few vegetables and an unfortunate amount of fried and fatty foods. My doctor says it's 70/30 genes over diet that attributes to your health and I have one thing to say to that. Thank you mum and dad.

He did mention that I could stand to lost a few pounds. When I asked him how much, he said "How much would you like to lose?" Well that's a first for a medical professional. I said I don't know, ummm, maybe 30 pounds? and he replied "Fine, we'll work on that over the next 2 years." 30 pounds in 2 years? I have one thing to say to that. Thank you Dr. Dick. And yes, that's his name. And yes, he did a pap. So what?


Monday, March 8, 2010

Welcome to the Oscar Red Carpet

Okay, not really but I thought I'd give you my version of a "live blog". Which is just me telling you what I was doing at interesting points in the telecast. Well, interesting to me anyway. I'll try not to make it too long. A sidebar: The TV Guide says the show will run from 8:30 to 11pm. We'll see.

8:30- a parade of nominees just got introduced. Underwhelming

8:32- Opening song and dance number by Neil Patrick Harris. Squee! Things are so looking up.

8:44- Steve and Alec were funny during their opening monologue (bilogue?)... I laughed out loud a lot. I'm happy for them.

8:49- Here we go... Best Supporting Actor is: Christophe Waltz. He was terrifying in Inglourious Basterds. He made me feel the way Javier Bardem did in No Country For Old Men. Brrr... Boring speech. though.

8:58- An embarrassing compilation of the animated movie nominees getting interviewed by Barbara Walters. Ugh. Why do they do this every year?

9:06- One of Audrey's fish died. We had to deal with the fallout and a fishtank worth of Audrey's salty tears. I need to take a break. Being a mother equals sacrifice just like Precious' mother says. Or more accurately screams.

9:23- Aaaand we're back. Unlike the Pancake the fish, Audrey will live. The tribute to John Hughes was fantastic. So great to see the old clips and the grown up "Brat Pack".

9:27- Can I just say that I hate, loathe and despise with a fire that burns, the CTV feed of the Oscars? They're cutting things short and they just made me miss a joke about ugly actresses.

9:32- I like when someone I never heard of makes a good, funny speech that is mercifully short. Bravo to the guy that made the animated film "Logorama".

9:34- Holy hell, it's a reverse Kanye. A black man was talking and a white woman just broke in and interrupted him. They were winners for best documentary and were the first people to be played off tonight. Ugh...

9:37- Ben Stiller as a Navi. I'm torn between feeling humiliated for him and dorkily loving every second of it.

9:45- Food break: champagne, chocolate almonds, pate, brie baked with bacon jam, crackers, cashews, french bread, pears and grapes. Overdone? Damn straight.

9:57- Ooooh... best supporting actress is Mo'Nique. Good short speech, heartfelt, wonderful. And for those of you who haven't seen Precious, go just for the last 20 minutes. That's where Mo'Nique wins her little man. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

10:09- Sarah Jessica Parker and Tom Ford come on to present something. Me: "That is such an ugly dress". Scott: "That is such an ugly woman". Hee.

10:18- Alec and Steve do Paranormal Activity. I laugh so hard champagne comes out of my nose.

10:23- Cutie Zac Efron is presenting. I just realized that I haven't seen Vanessa tonight. Trouble in paradise? Zac, my email is He's 23 now so it's totally not pedophiley. It is a touch cougary, though.

10:37- Bring out your dead. Ooh... this time with James Taylor accompanying. I always feel bad for the ones that don't get a big ovation. And why did Patrick Swayze get a more love than Michael Jackson? Weird. And Dom DeLuise? When did he die?

10:46- JLo comes out. Scott (in awe): She is soooo hot. Me: (silence).

10:49- Hiphop interpretive dance to the best songs? Really? Hiphop dancing to the Hurt Locker theme? Huh. The jury is still out. But I perk up once I notice Russell, the winner from last year's So You Think You Can Dance.

10:53- It's over. I liked it.

10:58- Okay, here's my advice. If you aren't a movie star, don't make a speech thanking people we've never heard of. Try giving advice like the nameless guy who just told kids watching at home (as if they'd be up this late on a school night but whatever) that what they're doing is not a waste of time. Loved it.

11:05- Things I learned while watching the Oscars: something interesting will happen it I text "dolphin" to 44144.

11:07- The Snuggie makes it's Oscar debut.

11:10- Wow, they've gone over-time. Imagine that. This never happens, people. That was dripping with sarcasm in case you missed it.

11:15- Quentin Tarantino is a giant douche. It's nothing he said or did just now, he just is. Loved his movie like cake, though.

11:18- Another bunch of no names get played off. My bed is calling me. Half a bottle of champagne on a Sunday night was not the best idea.

11:26- I like the introductions to the lead actor nominations. It's nice to hear the little speeches and it almost makes losing okay. Says the girl watching from her couch in the leopard Snuggie. But the award goes to...

11:33- Jeff Bridges. Boring speech, "man".

11:47- After some blather by Sean Penn, Best Actress goes to (what!?) Sandra Bullock. Over Meryl Streep and Gabby Sidibe? Her husband is a scary biker, right? 'Nuff said. Moving on...

11:56- Fading fast... Kathryn Bigelow wins best director for Hurt Locker. Is it the questionable "champagne" or did they just play her out with Helen Reddy's "I Am Woman?" Seriously?

11:58- The Hurt Locker wins for Best Picture. Not a shock here as the best director statistically nearly always wins this one too. I'm going to say it. For a movie about soldiers and war, it was a snooze. One of those movies where you don't really like anyone.

12:02- Steve Martin tries to wrest the Oscar away from Kathryn Bigelow who has one in each hand but she doesn't let go. She's got a deer-in-the-headlights look that tells me she's not going to remember a second of this in the morning. The show is finally over. It was anticlimactic but isn't it always?

Here's how I ranked the movies this year:
  1. Inglourious Basterds
  2. District 9
  3. Avatar
  4. Precious
  5. Up
  6. Up In The Air
  7. The Blind Side
  8. The Hurt Locker
  9. A Serious Man
  10. An Education *(only because I didn't see it)
Highlight of the night? My baked brie topped with bacon jam and Mo'Nique winning. Lowlight? No love in the big awards for Avatar. Again, I'm going to reiterate as I do every year that the only awards given out tonight should have been:
  • Best Picture
  • Best Screenplay and Adapted Screenplay
  • Best Director
  • Best Actress and Supporting Actor
  • Best Actor and Supporting Actor
Maybe something involving music for interest sake. This telecast is just too long. But any occasion where I can eat bacon jam is a good one. Bed now.


Sunday, March 7, 2010


I just want to clarify that yesterday's blog was a tragic accident. As you know I only blog during the week and I post date them to come out Monday through Friday. Obviously I slept through grade 2, as a result, misread the calendar and put the wrong date on yesterday's blog which should have been out on Tuesday (tomorrow's is an as yet unwritten Oscar blog).

So lucky for you, counting this one, you got 7 blogs this week. Wow, people, go out and play a lotto ticket or something because this just doesn't happen. Hope you enjoyed it. See you tomorrow and be sure to watch the Oscars tonight. I know I will. The champagne is chilling as I type. That being said, the blog will more than likely be late tomorrow. I think I'm allergic to alcohol. Everytime I drink it I wake up fuzzy-headed and with a raging headache. What's up with that?


Saturday, March 6, 2010

Instant Beauty Pageant

I watched this show the other day and it fascinated me. The hosts (one of which is the actor that plays the infamous Ryan from All My Children) go to the mall, pick out a few girls, give them some money to shop then pit them against each other in a life or death cage match beauty pageant. Well, maybe not life or death but a trip to Cancun or somewhere like that is pretty cool.

They actually have a beauty pageant. They construct a stage in the mall, do an opening group choreography and have 3 outfit changes. But what struck me is the talent. Some of the girls are lucky to be able to sing so that works as a skill you can use if ever you get ambushed while shopping for socks. But what if you play a mean tuba? You may well have a scholarship to the Worldwide Woodwind Academy but you can't go home and fetch it to display your talent. So what do you do? You give a makeover. Yup, one of the contestants gave a makeup consultation to an audience member. What?

I can't sing. The closest I can get is high score on Sing Star. So if I got ambushed, I'd have to blog or play Scrabble with someone. I'm not good at much anything else. Oh to be able to bake a cake because I'd have that locked. What could I do in such a short period of time? Download an iPod app? Demonstrate proper dragonboat paddling technique?

I'm just thankful (sort of) that these tv producers aren't interested in middle aged, bald, overweight, black women. Because honestly, I'd make such bad television. I translate much better on paper.


Friday, March 5, 2010

Dear Baby Jesus,

please keep me from throttling my firstborn son. Amen.

I got a call from his school saying he threw something at another student narrowly missing the other boy's eye. He was dragged to the principal's office where I was called. Supposedly he spent an hour and a half with a blank piece of paper in front of him. Why? He was asked to write down why he did it and the repercussions had it actually hit this kid in the eye. He wrote nothing on the paper. The actual word "nothing". He could have done it properly in 10 minutes. But no, it took him 90 minutes because the principal made him sit there until he wrote something lucid. Now he has to make up the class time he missed by sitting in the office on detention during recesses (about 3 days).

What the hell, people? Who is this mutant? I sometimes feel like I'm raising a sociopath. He's not normally like this, I swear. In fact, among all the stuff the principal said, one of them was that he's a "good kid". Another principal could have suspended him and he would have had that on his permanent record going into high school next year. Arrrgh.

I just wish I could have a free child abuse pass and punch him into next week. Does that make me a sociopath? I guess that's where he gets it from.


Thursday, March 4, 2010

How cool!

Okay, check out this song by Orianthi. If you want to cut straight to what I want to talk about today, go to 2:12. Actually, you may want to do this anyway since the song is pretty mundane teen pop grrrl power nonsense. Something that Miley, Ashley, Lindsay or Demi would squeak. Can you tell I have a preteen girl?

So this is a pretty recent song but at 2:12 it kicks it old school. There is a... wait for it... guitar solo. How cool! I didn't even realise until I heard this song on the radio that they had even stopped doing guitar solos in songs. So although the song itself leaves something to be desired, the 80s era guitar solo makes me really like it.

And just for clarity (and added coolness in my eyes), this little girl is actually playing the solo herself. Colour me impressed.

(PS: A heads up for those reading on Facebook, please click on "view original post" and you'll see the video. Actually, if you do that everyday you'll get counted in my daily reader tally and make me very happy. And blogger isn't blocked by most workplaces so you can read my blog while you are supposed to be collating or whatever it is you do.)

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

A toilet you'd be proud to throw up in.

Last week Audrey had a little tummy bug that had her waking up in the middle of the night both heaving and pooping. Charming, eh? Anyway, later on in the evening/morning she graduated on to just plain puking and as I held her hair back the absent thought drifted by that thank goodness I'd cleaned the toilet earlier that day because now it was vomit fresh.

This is what went through my mind while up with a sick kid. Don't judge me, people, I was punchy with exhaustion.


Tuesday, March 2, 2010

What's in your purse?

Ohh I love these! I'm going to honestly share what's in my purse. You can share too if you're so inclined. You boys can tell me what's in your wallets if you like but it's never as interesting as what's in a "lady's" bag. So let's proceed:

  • camera
  • iPod touch/earbuds
  • 6 shopping receipts
  • 2 pens
  • 15 various membership/reward/credit cards wrapped in a pink broccoli bunch rubber band
  • my business card (Okay, it's not a business card per se, it just has my name and contact info on it. It's to give to people I meet who say "I'll call you... do you have a pen?")
  • tiny container of hand lotion
  • tube of Tide To Go
  • tube of hand sanitiser
  • dental floss
  • kleenex packet
  • small bottle of hand sanitiser (huh that's very OCD of me)
  • another slightly larger container of hand lotion
  • chapstick
  • perfume (sea island cotton)
  • face powder
  • eyeglass case
  • Listerine Pocket Pack
  • 2 containers of dental floss
  • cell phone/mp3 charger
  • bottle of Poo Pourri
  • Ice Breakers gum
  • an extra errm... feminine protection product
  • cell phone
Again my bag seems to be like a magician's top hat. I really need to clean this thing out. I find it odd that I have 2 lotions, 2 dental flosses and 2 hand sanitisers plus gum and a Listerine pocket pack. It seems overly fastidious, doesn't it? And I'm so not. So, you feel like sharing?


Monday, March 1, 2010

I think I may be suffering from a touch of S.A.D

I hate how I feel body-wise at this time of the year. The weather, the lack of sunlight, the bulky clothes, the fact that I miss dragonboating and the food binge that started at Halloween have all conspired to make me think that not shaving my legs for 3 months is a brilliant idea. In fact, over the weekend I got invited to a friend's hot tub and I didn't go because I was depressed about my legs yet too miserable to pick up a flipping razor. Take that winter. I'm sure old Jack Frost is crying little ice cubey tears because of my decision. Ha.

What I need is to get my flabby ass to the gym because I hate exercising (or even going for that matter) outdoors in the winter. Unfortunately, for some ungodly reason, flashing my bestest 100 watt smile at the hardbody behind the membership desk doesn't get them to press the little buzzer thingie to let me in. They deal in actual currency. Of course to get said currency I need a job. Then, naturally, I wouldn't have time for the gym. Why is life so unfair?

Well, I'm off to buy a pile of scratchies. People, it's the only way.