December 4, 2014

No and I don’t know.

Yesterday was Touched By Fire.

I finished work at noon and had between then and 3:30pm to roll enough joints for the night, figure out where to eat, co-ordinate all this with my mom and get myself ready, which not only often involves multiple wardrobe changes, but more importantly, well-timed pharmaceuticals, and I was freaking at twelve-oh-one because I didn’t know where to start. I started by rolling joints and listening to bad hip hop because medication of all kinds is the most important thing to not leave the house with and I’ve been known to take a VERY long time to do this, even with a rolling machine, so yeah, started there. As I got to about my 2nd (of a planned 5) joint, Blake got home with lunch from Fresh-A-Fare, which I had really really wanted when I asked him to bring it home half an hour prior, but since I hadn’t had a ton of time to actually medicate between then and when he got home, my stomach just wasn’t ready for it so we ended up leaving it in the fridge for Wes for dinner if he wanted it, which he would because it was a ham and cheese sandwich and turkey with wild rice soup and he eats like me, so he’d be all about it.

As Blake ate and I rolled, we watched Once Upon a Story in Wonderland because it’s free on this trial Netflix type deal we have right now, and when the episode was over, Blake went to the bathroom to start getting read and I so, so stupidly checked e-mail and Facebook. And that is how I learned that my friend, Jeff Depew, the drummer from Scratching Post, had passed away. As some of you know, I was sort of the band’s first unofficial mascot/panty girl/merch bitch who did a lot of touring with them and became very good friends with everyone involved. I was/am shocked and saddened by the news of Jeff’s passing and however it happened, it is my hope that it was peaceful. I found out at around 2:30pm and had to be out the door at 3:30pm. At first I almost didn’t go. Just didn’t feel like partying or having a good time or being social. Then I almost went in overalls, which in hindsight I probably should have, it’s what I’d originally wanted to wear, but I settled on the same thing I wore on our attempt to see Book of Mormon, which had been thwarted by a blizzard so the outfit had never been seen before.

It took me half an hour to do my makeup because makeup won’t stick to tears, no matter how much primer you try to use. I’m a very simple lipstick-top-lid-eyeliner-one colour of shadow-mascara kinda gal. Makeup usually takes 10 mins, tops.

Anyway, traffic was hellacious and it was becoming apparent that we’d be late, so I texted my mom who said they were running late too, which I figured because that’s how my mother rolls. We get to the parking lot and it’s 100 km away from the restaurant we were meeting at and it’s blowing snow and I’m in a skirt. That walk made me so unhappy, especially since at the time my mother kept texting me from the restaurant about stuff as I’m trying not to get hit by cars or drop my phone or get it wet. Finally I literally told her to “stfu lol” and eventually we got to the restaurant.

We went to this St. Louis Grill place that I don’t think I’d ever bother with again unless I had to. Typical chain, with tiny across-from-Skydome Toronto portions and prices. I did eat a piece of macaroni and cheese wrapped in bacon and deep-fried that was pretty wonderful but I forgot to bring enzymes with me and really really should not be eating something like that anyway.

After eating, we went to the show. I went there. I saw that my painting was in the very back corner in the dark where it belonged. I looked at everyone else’s stuff, some good, some not so good but overall WAY better selections than previous years, then I parked my ass at the bar where I could see people looking at my painting (but turned my back to it because I couldn’t look) and see when they did the speeches. Speeches were uneventful except that this year there were prizes and our old friend from town here, Brian, won an honourable mention in his category and his girlfriend won best of show for her category.

After the speeches and awards and stuff, the place cleared out pretty fast. It wasn’t like previous years at all. See, something happened. I don’t know what but last fall there was some drama surrounding the show and suddenly touchedbyfire.CA was NOT the place to go, but touchedbyfire.CO and there was a mad scramble to get sponsors and find a space. It seemed like too much drama for me so I didn’t enter. This year it was run with the same group as last year and I noticed a lot of familiar artist faces missing, which seemed odd to me. I mean, this show has its regulars and I didn’t see two of its most prominent ones represented there last night. The bust for Rebecca Burkhardt, the person in whose remembrance this event takes place, was also missing, or at least I didn’t see it anywhere. Her dad was there though.

Before we left the show, Blake and John went around the room to see if anything had sold and only 2 things had, one being the most inexpensive piece in the show.

While the quality of work this year was definitely better, the experience wasn’t. There was no printed catalogue, which is really the only reason I go, just printed postcards with instructions for people to use their phones to take pictures of the QR codes beneath them or whatever they’re called, to pull up basically this page. That makes sense for the paintings being up in the gallery for a month but the show should have had a printed catalogue, especially since if I sell my piece, I’m giving them 20% and I want certain things, like show catalogues, for them to deserve that 20%. There were also no name tags for artists which was a mixed blessing. Every other year I turn mine around as not to be identified but this year I was trying to get up the courage to actually speak to people, to sell that damn thing, and them approaching me first would have been better.

The show’s been running 8 years, my first time was the 2nd year and I think I’ve been in it a total of 5 times. Last night marked only the 2nd time I’d submitted anything that was actually for sale and I really really need to sell this piece or make money from it somehow, in order to complete my next project before I get frustrated by money and logistics that I give up.

Anyway, here’s my painting and what I wore and how far away I was away from my painting at all times. THE END.

PS. I also invited my brother and his girlfriend to dinner and the show but he never even replied. I have no idea why, I haven’t done anything to him and we haven’t had a fight, so wtf? This hurts me a lot more than it should and was on my mind all night.

PPS. If you want to buy my painting, help me make BETTER art and see my awesome artist statement, click here.

July 2, 2014

Blake ate the misshapen fortune cookie.

Not sure I’m capable of a full post. Like. With paragraphs. I may just delete this line entirely.

I thought I was okay and then I saw this (which is awesome and I will read later, but you should read NOW…this post is a bummer and can totally wait) and it was like someone sucked all the air out of the room and I couldn’t breathe.

At least she waited until she probably knew I was done working or maybe she just waited as long as she  could, but this morning I got the first dated e-mail.

You can tell how serious or important something is by whether or not my mother’s dating the e-mails in the subject line.

Grandma. July 2 2014

Not unlike the e-mails people got 3 years ago this summer, “Sarah. July 2 2011”, events to which I had already been thinking about very recently, and as I figure I will for probably the rest of my life:

big sudden decline
grama (except she spells it right)’s been on oxygen since Thursday
increasingly more oxygen
now triple

{sarah reads: GRAMA CAN’T BREATHE, SHE MUST BE SCARED.}

palliative care asap
ps. no internet at grama’s. you may not hear from me until tomorrow.

Sarah pulls up her grama panties, e-mails back something pithy and decides priority 1 is that I e-mail work, tell them, again, that this time, for real this time, it’s gonna happen. I will need time off. I will e-mail with more info as I have it, here’s my schedule, thanks in advance. Luckily I am friends with everyone I work with, on some level anyway, and I’m not too terribly worried about work because I don’t think people have funerals on Saturdays and what are the odds she’ll die on my worst day? (Pretty good, actually, if the history of our relationship is any indication but it was work and I included our boss so I didn’t wanna get slap happy and umb out of shock or whatever, as I may be doing right now.) Time off no questions asked only happens for death and Xmas. I know my bosses would work my shifts if necessary. Both of them.

I am totally completely babbling but see? I’m wearing my grama panties. Work. The responsibility. The money. Priority 1. God I could throw up. I may throw up. The day is young and I am severely undermedicated. I’m betting my mom e-mailed her work/money/responsiblitiesthatarenotmygrama people before she e-mailed me, Blake and my brother. (Or she was wise enough not to take anything on in the first place.) We all have it, whatever it is. It’s AWFUL! No, scratch that, this is one form of crazy my brother was spared. My brother probably e-mailed her with “whatever you need, just tell me, I’ll be there” and like, wanting to be in the trenches and I guess I said that too, sort of, but my response may have included a colon, lowercase o and right parenthesis in succession. I also know for a fact that I am mentally incapable of going to palliative care and I don’t think anyone in the world would hold that against me. Or anyone who remotely mattered, anyway.

I got that far in my thoughts this morning before I had to stop. I thought about taking all my shit outside and working on my garden painting, y’know, IN my ditchweed butterfly wildflower keep off the fucking lawn garden as planned, or as I had planned all morning until I got that e-mail, but suddenly the rain expected at 1pm just had me making idle chatter with a friend who wanted to talk about weed (obviously) while I watched this awesomely shitty Lifetime series that is now on Netflix called Witches of East End and I had just finished the series 1 finale, knowing full well that season 2 was not on Netflix, and may not even exist so I had to come online to know, did it get cancelled? Because it was just SO awesomely shitty that I couldn’t imagine/really hoped there would be a season 2. I got as far as “set to premiere on July 6, 2014” on the Wikipedia page, stopped reading because I literally want to know nothing, and flipped to Facebook because okay, TV is over, now what?

oh. hi there “Death Becomes Her: A Century of Mourning Attire“.

welcome, sheer fucking panic because I didn’t even think of clothes.

And then I came here because I couldn’t even get past the first paragraph of the article before having my worst panic attack in recent history.

I am good for one day of public viewing, unless it’s okay to wear the same thing multiple days in a row or it’s okay to wear white/off-white. (Is it?)
Madison will need clothes. As long as it doesn’t rain, we can work around her Docs.
Wes will need clothes from the ground up.
Blake would prefer no clothes, but has a few suits to choose mix/match/dowhateverboysdo from.
He will need shoes, an expense he’s needed for a while that I keep telling him to get that now he can’t put off. Although my grama might, if overhearing my inner debate as to whether or not he can get away with his orthopedic sandals, say, “oh! I don’t need it, I don’t need it”, because that is absolutely the very thing , when last I saw her, she would say. Ball’s in his court on that one. I’m wearing Docs.

Just texted my brother to make sure he has a suit. He’s a grown man, I probably don’t have to ask him this. Too late. Can’t take it back.

John & Chris are good.

That is all my people.

Everyone else can find their own canoe.

March 25, 2014

What’s your damage, soldier?

Woke up this morning at 4:15am like I always do, got up and went to the bathroom without turning the light on and as soon as I start peeing, I start gagging. I grab the garbage can to my right – in the dark – and sat on the toilet barfing into this garbage can on my lap almost until it was time to start work at 5am. Then working from 5am-8am went like this: answer 5 e-mails, run to the bathroom to throw up or just dry heave for 5-15 mins, repeat.

Blake put me to bed at 8am and I woke up about an hour ago (11:30am-ish) with pain in my pancreas so this is the beginning of a pancreatic attack. I’ve taken hydromorph and now that I’m not working I can medicate with cannabis so if I can keep the nausea/vomiting and pain under control, usually things won’t escalate.

What did this? From what I can tell, because I now have to write down every single thing I eat, it was simple cheese sauce from a packet on broccoli last night. I eat frozen Green Giant broccoli and cheese sauce all the time with no issue but lately the texture of their sauce has kinda grossed me out, so I wanted (what I call) “real” cheese sauce on real broccoli. So that’s what Blake made me. And now I kinda wanna die a little.

But hopefully with the hydromorph and cannabis it won’t escalate further.

I was screwing around with polymer clay on the weekend because I have an idea for a big clay project and I wanted to make sure polymer clay was the way to go. I hadn’t used it since I was a kid and man, this stuff has gotten so much nicer in the last 25 years! I remember the old Fimo was SO HARD and you had to work it in for like a million hours until your hands cramped up to be able to work with it, then they introduced soft Fimo but it was more expensive and too rich for my 10 year old blood. Then I lost interest in it until Sunday when we went to Michael’s and I spent the gift card my mom got me on the colours of polymer clay I needed to make a couple of little guys, which we burnt because we screwed up the math and our oven runs hot :o/…

…that mouse was supposed to be elephant grey and baby pink. Anyway, making them was fun and I definitely want to proceed with the bigger project once I work out some of the logistics and play with the remaining clay to figure out how best to bake it in our wonky oven. I’m also going to invest in an oven thermometer at the suggestion of a bunch of my friends on Facebook, just to see how far off our oven is and how it cycles. My friend Mark – the one from the UK with the neat fish tanks, not the one who bought a forest in Nova Scotia – found this really good series of blog posts about baking polymer clay, so once I get my shit together and really get into this project, I’m definitely going to re-read those and maybe seek out more resources. The more info the better.

What I haven’t figured out yet is how to fund the bigger project. Polymer clay is pretty expensive and not really in my budget and I’m going to need a lot. I only bought this stuff to screw around with because my mom gave me a gift card for my birthday and there was nothing else at Michael’s that looked interesting. I didn’t know it would lead to IDEAS. If I’d have known that, I would have stuck to scrapbook paper! I still need to figure out if I’m capable of executing it with the oven we have anyway and I have so much on my plate at the moment that I just don’t even have the desk space right now to work on it so it’s a far ways off.

The gift card though, oy! We get to the cash register and she rings up our stuff, scans my coupon on my phone and swipes the gift card and it wouldn’t work. Long story short: The customer service lady worked for 20 mins to get the gift card to work in the machine and it wouldn’t, 1-800-MICHAELS is not open on Sundays for them to check the balance and when the lady peeled the sticker off the back to reveal the PIN # the paper came along with it, ruining the legibility of the numbers. Finally the lady just GUESSED the PIN # and it went through! The lady had never seen a cardboard gift card before and said she’d tell corporate that they suck. I was so so so fucking thankful that Blake was with me and handling the transaction because I was kinda freaking out. I knew worst case scenario was that I’d have to pay for my purchase, which I had enough money to do, and my mom and I could work it out. I figured she kept the receipt for the gift card because…that’s my mom…and I only spent as much as the gift card was for so somehow it would work out, but the fact that people kept trying to get in line behind us (we were at the customer service desk) and the lady kept having to tell them to go to another register was freaking me out and I wanted to melt into the floor. When she guessed the fucking PIN though and it went through, for a fraction of a second there I think I might have believed in God. At the very least either her karma was good or mine was or something. But nah, it was just a flukey “win”. And she was GREAT for persevering. That’s good customer service, that’s the kind of customer service we provide our customers at my work (which I happen to think is excellent on its own, but especially when compared to most other companies’ customer service). Michael’s had kinda been on my shit list after they sold me old varnish that fucked up a painting and the cover of a sketchbook (which the varnish manufacturer made good on, because DecoArt ALSO has excellent customer service) but I think we’re square for the time being.

Last week I bought myself flowers because they were just so beautiful they had to come home with me, and they’re still going strong. They’re Gerbera daisies, which are actually more related to sunflowers than daisies, according to Wikipedia:

Aren’t they crazy beautiful?
Isn’t my desk crazy messy?
I should just put all that paint away…I may just do that.

In discussing the first day of spring the other day, my friend Rugg reminded me that prior to me getting sick, he had helped me, for my birthday, turn my front yard into a wildflower garden and my back yard into a vegetable garden. This year he asked me if I wanted to plant and it had been something I’d been thinking about now that we’ve decided this is our forever home, but not very seriously because I just don’t have any money and Blake doesn’t care so it’s not like he’s going to give me any. We have decided that we’re not going to have a vegetable garden again because it’s too much work when the grocery store is down the street and sells fresh Ontario produce that’s pretty affordable, but Rugg bought me these hanging planters for tomatoes to grow upside-down, you’ve probably seen them on TV, the spring I got sick so we never really got to use them. I planted them and everything, but then I got sick and no one looked after them so they shrivelled up and died. They’re pretty neat though and you don’t have to weed them, so we figure we might as well. Fresh tomatoes warm from the sun on a PLT is one of life’s greatest joys, so I figure we should probably give it another shot, if only for that possibility. Other than that, all I know for sure is that I’ll be planting the usual cosmos and bachelor’s buttons out front – wait, back up…

…this spring, when the daffodils and hyacinths come up, I’m relocating all of them to the garden that’s in front of our front porch (where only hyacinths grow now, I think) and if there are too many to do that, then I’m just going to plant them randomly throughout the front yard because that’s where all of my little spring flower bulbs are. The reason I’m relocating them is because I want the garden beneath my living room window to be cleared out for peonies because after the daffodils and hyacinths die down in like, the end of April/beginning of May, I can’t get anything other than dandelions to grow there because it’s too shady, it’s right under a big maple tree. I haven’t actually researched whether or not peonies would work there, I just think they will because I’ve seen peonies growing in shade before so some varieties must be able to. If not, suggestions for something LIKE peonies would be welcome if anyone knows anything about gardening! (Keep in mind where I live though…)

Another idea I’ve been thinking about is turning the former vegetable garden in the back into another wildflower garden with more of an emphasis on butterflies and the possibility of a bird feeder in the middle. I want to get one like this, on a pole, but I’d need my mom and John’s help with the pole because I don’t even know where you would get one of those or how you would put it in the ground. All winter I’ve been buying suet balls and we’ve been tying them to the branches of the tree out front. We’ve had little chickadee guys, a woodpecker-looking guy who may or may not be an actual woodpecker because we’ve never actually seen him peck wood and a bunch of different types of black birds. The kids, and even Blake, have all liked watching the birds and I like watching them too if I’m in the kitchen or sitting on the rocking chair in the living room while I talk to Blake at his desk. I’m not sure we’d feed the birds in the summer, they eat the wildflower seeds anyway, but we’d like to feed them in the fall/winter/spring and you can really only give them suet balls in the winter because suet is animal fat so when it’s too warm, they fall apart. Just another idea.

Something else I know as a definite because Rugg and I have already discussed it is sunflowers. Lots and lots of sunflowers. And of course morning glories and moonflowers to grow up the stalks, among other places! Yeah, I have plans and ideas…I just have to get them all in one place and organized because some things will need to be ordered immediately, like peonies, and planted early inside, like tomatoes. Sooooooooo I’m gonna stop babbling and go do that. I also have to make sketches for the polymer clay project. Things they are-a-happenin’.

PS. Madison dyed her hair red yesterday after school…at school in the girl’s bathroom because she’s banned from using hair dye in our house since she bleaches or dyes everything in the bathroom and we just had it redone and we’re in the process of painting the whole room white. So she bought hair dye at lunch and started dying it in the bathroom at school and when she got to the rinsing part, she had her head under the sink, which she said was barely dripping water on her because they’re all water-saving faucets (haha), when a lady janitor came in and said, “oh you’ll never get it done that way” and lead Madison to a janitor’s closet down the hall where she could use a hose and wash the dye down a drain hole where it matters not if she gets dye anywhere. She’s overjoyed that she can now dye her hair again and I’m happy for her, but I REALLY wish she’d use gloves when she does. Right now she looks like she murdered someone…maybe she has…hmmm….

February 25, 2014

What’s my age again?

I totally forgot to post about this yesterday!

Last Monday, Pie was having $4 pizzas to celebrate their 4th anniversary so Wes, Blake and I went there for dinner.

After waiting about 15 minutes for a table, we were finally seated and our waitress, whose name I think was Bianca (who looked and acted like a total Carrie Bradshaw, except more adorable and less annoying), asked us if we would like some drinks to start. Blake and I ordered Diet Cokes and Wes ordered an orange pop.

A few minutes later, Bianca returned with our drinks, setting mine and Wes’ down first (we were in a booth and Wes was on my side) and then Blake’s, we ordered our pizzas and off she went. That’s when Blake and I noticed that Wes and I have the same sized cup while Blake had a bigger one…in other words, she gave me a child’s cup. I was like, whatever, doesn’t matter, just means she’s gonna have to get me refills more often, no big deal, because I assumed she did it by accident but Blake had a different theory.

It was insanely busy at Pie because of the $4 pizza thing and I had finished my drink before our food got there. Just then, Bianca walked past our table to go to the kitchen and on her way, she told us it would be a few more minutes and that she was sorry and that’s when Blake said to her, “Can I ask you a question?” and she stopped and said sure, and Blake said, “Did you give my wife a smaller cup because you thought she was a child?” Bianca looks at him and then at me and she’s kinda horrified and Blake’s killing himself laughing and saying, “it’s okay! It’s okay! It happens all the time!” and finally she’s laughing (she even had the Sarah Jessica Parker laugh) and totally freaking out. I could tell she wanted to ask me how old I was so I told her “I’m going to be 35 on March 1st” and she was all “NO WAY!!!!!!!!!! You must get carded for everything!!!” and freaking more and eventually Blake asked her for another refill for me and when she brought it, it was a grown up GLASS from the bar, not the regular plastic cups they usually use for the pop.

Later on, when the restaurant was less busy and she had to bus the tables next to us, she talked to us as she worked and was STILL spazzing out saying, “does it REALLY happen all the time or are you just saying that?” so we told her about the time at the hospital when they thought Blake was my dad and my mom was my sister to reassure her and then she says, “yeah I’m 22 and people tell me I look young all the time.” I figure if a reasonably intelligent 22 year old thinks I look like, forget a child, I’ll even take YOUNGER THAN SHE IS, I’m doing something right! Thanks, Bianca!

October 15, 2013

Scar tissue, blood blister…

This morning as I was shaving my pits, as some girls are wont to do, because of the razor I use (Venus something er other that has its own shaving cream built in), I was reminded of something that happened when I was 12…

…when I was 12, we lived in a REALLY small town, called Greenbank, that I think was literally something like 400-500 people. There are only 5 features to Greenbank, that I can think of: a school that goes to grade 6, a pretty nice park, a church, a general store that also acts as the post office and a bakery/chicken coop (that makes amazing garlic cheese bread) that actually sells their own product, not like, an industrial type of thing.  This is all to say that if you lived in Greenbank when you were 12, there was nothing to really do but watch TV, but even that sucked because we were far enough into the boonies that we couldn’t get cable.

So, when I was 12, like the rest of the girls in town, I joined the church choir.

Yes. Me.

But lemme also say that when I say I “joined”, that meant I performed with the choir at our school, but I never sang at church by my own choice.

Anyway, one day I was in the upstairs bathroom brushing my teeth and I spied my dad’s razor sitting on the edge of the sink. Curious, I tried shaving a little bit of my arm hair. Then I felt the newly hairless skin and it was really smooth and suddenly I understood why some women shave their legs; I decided I wanted to shave my legs too.

So, on the floor of our bathroom, I proceeded to do so. DRY. It hurt a little. I bled just a little. But overall I thought it went okay.

I put my dad’s razor back (I highly doubt I rinsed it off) and went to bed. And I experienced freshly shaven legs and nice sheets for the first time in my life and I thought man, shaving your legs is AWESOME, then I went to bed.

The next morning I woke up, got out of bed, threw on t-shirt and a pair of shorts (I highly doubt I ate breakfast) and walked to school.  In June. Where every morning I would come to school a sweaty mess because it was the end of the school year and it was already getting really hot.

The day was totally normal, like any other. We played baseball in gym but because I had asthma I didn’t have to participate so I sat in the grass behind the fencing (cage?) and kept count with J. Fletcher who was in trouble so he wasn’t allowed to play but really wanted to.

And that’s when the itching started. Absent-mindedly,  I began to scratch my legs a little bit, just every now and then. But that only made it itchier and now red bumps were appearing but it was soooooo itchy so I scratched. And kept on scratching until gym class was over.

On the way home from school, the sweat running down my legs because it was 3:30pm and it was hotter than it was in the morning, began to sting the little red bumps. It suuuuuuuuucked.

But I had to go to choir after school, so I did, begrudgingly.

Choir practice was some girls standing and some girls sitting on the step below them with their legs together, bent and to the same side as everyone else. I was a sitter.

I was in agony and during one slow part of choir when the adults were trying to work something out amongst themselves, I had to scratch so I looked around to see if anyone was looking and someone was. This girl whose name I can’t even remember was staring at me which freaked me right out so I looked away and that’s when she whispered to me, “hey! do you shave your legs?” completely bewildered and sort of in awe because none of the other girls had shaven legs.

NO.” I half sneered, half hissed because by now it was clear that I had somehow done it wrong. I stuck my nose up in the air and turned away from her.

It’s funny the little things you remember throughout your day like that. I wish the Venus whatever it’s called with the built in shaving gunk that I use was there for my 12 year old self.

Anyway, I thought it was cute/funny so I thought I’d share.

Posted at 12:09 pm in: Beauty , Childhood , Fall , Feminism , Life , Misc. , the 90's , Women
October 6, 2013

Derp.

My macro class got cancelled because there weren’t enough people signed up to go through with it. I’m going to sign up for the one in the spring though, and hope there are more photography students who need the class for their certificates. I’m kind of relieved. Fall just isn’t my good time of year AT ALL so throwing the added pressure of a class onto an already stressful time is probably a bad idea. Plus, the class conflicted with Madison’s art class sometimes too, which made things even more stressful. So I guess the class being cancelled was probably a good thing. Unfortunately I signed up for the fall class specifically because I wanted to learn how to take a picture of a single snowflake and that seemed more possible/likely to happen in the fall than the spring, even if it is early spring. Oh well. I’m sure there’s a tutorial on how to do that on the internet somewhere anyway.

Last night while I was working, I leaned on my right armrest and the stupid thing snapped off! So now I only have one armrest, which is really annoying.

Also last night while we were watching Saturday Night Live, Madison and Blake – for reasons I’m not totally clear on – decided to bleach and dye Blake’s hair pretty colours, so here’s some pics from that:

So that was our Saturday night.

I have today and tomorrow off from work but we’re not doing anything special. It’s rainy and blah outside so we’ll probably just watch the Sam and Dean Show and possibly play a game of Cards Against Humanity if I can get everyone (including myself) motivated. I finally used some of our blank white cards by writing the names of everyone we know on them, including our pets so hopefully if we play, those cards will be in the mix.

On Friday I went to Curry’s and got a pink mechanical pencil that I’m going to use when I’m drawing my girls for the colouring book maybe. I’m not usually a fan of mechanical pencils, but this one is pretty cool so we’ll see what happens. I also got like, 8-10 new Pigma Micron pens because I’m wearing mine out pretty fast from using them for the colouring book. I got 3 sheets of hand-dyed artisan paper that I plan to use for paintings and I also got these neat Liquitex paint markers in pink and light aqua so my career as a graffiti artist is well under way! (That’s a joke. Unless it isn’t!) And finally, they had the new glitter Sharpies for $11.99 for 3 of them, so I got myself the pink, blue and green pack (sorry Lisa!). They’re pretty cool, actually. More metallic than glittery though or maybe I didn’t shake them up enough.

On our way home, I asked Blake to stop off at Shopper’s Drug Mart because I wanted to get hair dye (see roots, above…), with full knowledge that Shopper’s Drug Mart is dangerous territory for me because I could easily buy out the whole store with little assistance or trouble. I got my hair dye and Blake got shampoo, conditioner and leave-in conditioner and I got 3 bottles of nail polish because 2 of them were on clearance and 1 of them I just liked. One is by Quo, which I think is Shopper’s Drug Mart’s brand and it’s a gold glitter polish called “Gold Rush Sparkle”. The next one is by Sally Hansen (the “Gem Crush” line), called “Showgirl Chic”, and it’s a polish with fine silver glitter but with bigger – but not by much – blue glitter. I’ve never seen a polish like it before and it was like $3, so bonus. And finally the one I’m most excited about is “Mermaid’s Tale”, which is also by Sally Hansen and it’s a blue glitter polish, which sounds so ho-hum, I know, but it’s actually pretty much identical to Natalie Dee’s Super Black “The Bends”, which is A) expensive and B) they won’t ship to Canada and again, the one I got was only like, $3.99.

Anyway, I’m sure you all find that fascinating. I know I do.

The last thing I got was the National Geographic photography special edition because I hadn’t seen a National Geographic in god, at least 15 years, and because obviously I like photography. I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet but I’ll probably do that…when I get around to it. I am so far behind on reading it’s ridiculous. I just haven’t been in the mood or inspired to read anything or continue reading what I am reading (And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini, On the Road by Jack Kerouac (yes, still) and I’ve been trying really really hard to get into Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie and it’s just so…I dunno if I can do it) but that’s not necessarily unusual. In my life, I’ve gone through phases where I won’t read anything for like, a year or maybe even longer and then after that I’ll devour books like crazy. I think these days I’m just feeling a little more audio/visual.

 Madison’s never seen the original Carrie movie. Like the Brian de Palma/Sissy Spacek masterpiece that is definitely within my top 5 favourite movies of all time. So we’re going to watch that at some point today and I can’t fucking wait.

And I guess that’s all I have to report. I hope everyone’s having a fantastic weekend! Peace!

September 16, 2013

Tinkl’s

Yesterday we went to the Uxbridge Studio Tour, which my mom was in and the reason I went to this one, (because she’s in a billion shows a year and I rarely go) because I had a feeling my brother was going to be there helping set up and tear down once it was all over. I was correct.

When we got there, my mom was surprised to see me because I didn’t tell her we were coming. Actually we didn’t even decide that’s what we were doing for sure until yesterday morning, so there was no way to tell her anyway. (She doesn’t have a cell phone. Well she does but she never has it on her.)

So we get there and my mom tells me my brother’s in the truck playing games on his phone. Well, I haven’t seen the guy in 8 years so I’m not about to go ambush him 1-on-1 so she went and got him and he and I walked around and talked for a bit about nothing important. That’s the thing about my brother, he’s SO quiet. He just doesn’t talk unless spoken to. He’s always been that way but in the 8 years that have passed, I think he got quieter.

I told him I loved him and he told me he loved me back. Everything else is mostly a blur.

Chad had never been to Tinkl’s before and Wes was a baby when we went last and they were on the tour and not too far away so we all decided to go.

The car ride there and back was super uncomfortable. Chad doesn’t talk and was sitting in the front because his legs are so damn long, so it was mostly silent. I was sitting behind him and could see his face in the side mirror; I couldn’t stop looking at him. I dunno why. I think maybe because every time I see him all I feel is love (usually). Like I look at his face and I feel love. This must be left over from when we were kids, I guess, I dunno. It’s not like that with anyone else. Not even Blake.

So back to Tinkl’s. I’ve written about them before but it was a long time ago, like 10 years ago, Wes wasn’t walking yet I don’t think. Judith Tinkl is a quiltmaker  and her husband Viktor works in concrete. He has made all kinds of crazy characters all over their property and it’s almost one of those things you have to see to appreciate, but I tried my best to take pics of juuuuust about everything. Since there are so many, here’s the gallery of them, but I’ll post a few too:

There ya go, now you can say you’ve seen a concrete vulva.

We saw a Walking Stick! I’d never seen one before in my life!
And when we got back to my mom’s tent, there was another one there too!

Crows.

I thought this was the coolest thing I saw all day.

I think this is the best pic I took all day.

After Tinkl’s we went back to my mom’s tent and shot the shit for a while and that was pretty much the whole day. When we were about to leave, I asked my brother if he would take a picture with me, and he said sure, so here ya go (taken by Blake):

My hair is so light it practically blends into his hoodie haha

And that’s all she wrote because I’m having a mild pancreatic attack and just can’t write anymore. :o/

September 11, 2013

Aaaaall Riiiiiight Now, Baby It’s All Right Now

So my mom’s got her studio tour in Uxbridge next weekend which means we can’t really come and hang out with them and my brother but possibly the following Monday is okay because the weekend after that is my studio tour (from hell) and I’m going to need the Monday following it to decompress. I’m also going to suggest Wednesdays if she thinks that Monday is no good.

I haven’t seen my brother in 8 years. He wasn’t very nice to me during our last interaction which was only a few months ago so I don’t know what to expect.

I’m mesmerized by this thorough list of songs that use cowbell.

Blake’s got me hooked on this show called Supernatural which is actually very Buffy-esque but nowhere near as cool.  We’re in the middle of season 2 so we have a long way to go to catch up with current TV. I think Blake said there’s been 6 or 7 seasons so far? So yeah, we have a long way to go.

I’m pretty stressed out about the studio tour. One of the ladies who’s sharing the space with me (also a painter) suggested that we do something artistic, like part of our process, while people are walking around. I dunno how I feel about that but at the same time, what am I going to do, just sit there and nervously tweet? So I’ve decided I’m going to work on my colouring book while I’m there because those girls don’t require shading. My shading process uses Krylon’s Workable Fixative and it’s probably not a good idea to use it in an enclosed space with no windows. (I do at home because it’s just a tiny spritz every now and then, but I can see why it might be a concern.)

This might sound like the biggest first world problem ever but I dunno what to wear. Blake said “something Free People-y” which to me means “dress up”. Well we have to be there at 9am – likely before that. You want me up, my hair done, my makeup done AND dressed up and out the door by like, 8:45am? Lawd help me please. I think, especially since I’m going to be sitting most of the time, that my overalls with a tank top is just fine for both days. Tell me if you disagree. It’s comfortable, and get THIS, apparently “on trend“.  So people will think I’m cool, right? And if I get cold, I’ll just put on a hoodie. Good?

And finally, I sent Blake a picture of my boob…

Which is MONUMENTAL because he put a “u” in “favourite” like a proper citizen of the commonwealth!

Anyway, that’s all I got. Peace oot, homies.

June 18, 2013

That Thing, That Thing, That Thiiiiiiing

I’ve been sleeping a lot. I think I’m depressed again.

Last night I tried to watch the movie The Impossible and I lasted about 15 minutes before I fell asleep and drooled all over Blake’s belly. That was around 8pm. Then I got up at 4:30am for work and actually started early because my pancreas is bugging me (dunno why this time) and I wanted to go back to bed as soon as possible. So at 7:45am I went back to sleep and had the craziest dream about evil, pot smoking fairies that I wish I could remember and write down because it would have been fucking GOLD, very de Lint

…FUCK. Blake’s aunt died and now we probably have to go to Militiagan for the week. FUCK FUCK FUCK. It’s not that I have anything AGAINST Militiagan, it’s that I really really hate working from another location. I’m also on the rag and Lunapads aren’t exactly travel-worthy. Ugh. This suuuuuuuuuuucks. (It’s not an aunt he was particularly close to or anything, I’d never even heard of her until today. She’s his cousins’ grama.)

UGH.

UGH.

UGH.

I can’t afford to pay for roaming on my phone right now either. :o( If I’m roaming, does playing Pocket Frogs count as data usage?

Now I’m in a shitty mood. I was in a perfectly fine mood until Blake messaged me with this. Now my dream is 100% out of my brain and into the ether because he made me think about real life things. FUCK.

…And the vice principal just called and Madison’s exam on Thursday is drama, which is a play, so she can’t make that one up so if we go, she’s staying home. This is fucking bullshit. Fuck this, I’m not going. If we can’t all go, I say we send flowers since it’s not even a close relative and call it a day. It’s not like we can afford to go anyway.

UGH.

BUT! My wonderful friend, Miss Manda Leigh, found me THESE gorgeous things on eBay just now, in my size, which Blake told me to purchase and have sent to his mom’s house (because they didn’t ship internationally). They are Doc Martens so you know they’re good and that they’ll fit perfectly. Behold:

I loves them.
I loves them so fucking much.
I could kick someone’s fucking ass in these.
I knew if I put it out there someone would see something awesome!
Crowd-sourcing FTW!

….And Blake and I have decided to just send flowers to the funeral home and call it a day. THANK GOD. This was getting complicated and stressful. I had to take 2 clonazepam just to answer the phone when the vice principal called who A) should have called Blake’s cell instead of our house, which is the # he left on her voicemail and B) who fucking told Madison about the funeral, who had NO IDEA, and so she texted Blake 300 times while he was in a meeting wondering who died. THANKS, VICE PRINCIPAL FUCKFACE. YOU’RE SWELL.

I have done so much screaming today my throat is literally sore, both from being extremely frustrated with life and also from being excited about shoes. Today is definitely a bittersweet day.

I’m really bummed about losing that dream. It was the kind of dream that was so good, so interesting, that you force yourself to go back to sleep to keep having it. And now it’s gone. Thanks a lot, universe.

Now I’m going to go find food and wrack my brain for dream details. Have a lovely day.

June 17, 2013

And the coloured girls go do-d-do-do-do-d-do-do-d-do-do-do-d-do-do-d-do-do-do-d-do-do-d-do-do-do-d-do

On Thursday I had a pretty crazy panic experience.

Blake and I went to the mall because I needed new shoes. Because the summer shoes I have are literally 15 years old and falling apart. I got them at Holman’s Shoes, which was an independent shoe store, in Uxbridge when Madison was less than a year old so I could go to an $80,000 wedding with my then-boyfriend.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Pardon the dog hair. Uh, we have dogs. They shed. Yadda yadda.

This is what my old shoes look like and if anyone has ever seen shoes like these online anywhere PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know. Since I only buy shoes every decade and a half, money is pretty much no object.

In case the photos are unclear, the soles are rubber with what used to be suede inside (where it says “marie claire 7”) and the upper part is leather.
I am obviously a size 7. (In this shoe, 7.5 in others.)

So anyway, the goal was to find the exact same kind of shoe at the mall. Except I hadn’t been in a shoe store in a really long time and I think the fact that in a shoe store sales people HAVE to help you and they’re pretty pushy about it threw me into full blown panic after about 3 stores with me being unable to breathe or even see properly and sweating profusely. We had to go to the food court where I sat in a chair and cried while tweeting fiercely and Blake got me dinner. I took like, 8 Ativan over the course of 20 minutes and composed myself and the search for shoes began again.

After looking at every shoe store in the mall, I found a pair in a shoe store that were “okay” but not the same but I needed shoes so I settled for them and we proceeded to go home. Payless Shoes happens to be across the road from the mall so I said to Blake that we should look there just in case and I actually found shoes there that were better than the $100 ones we’d just purchased for $20 and they’re…passable. I don’t like them, they’re not the same (have I ever mentioned that I really really don’t like change?), they’re too light and I feel like they don’t want to stay on my feet but I needed them so that’s what I got. Behold…

Since they were only $20, Blake said I could get this snazzy hat that I don’t have pictures of and he also said that we could keep looking for the same shoes as I had before so PLEASE, if you know of a place online that has shoes like my old ones, for the love of kittens and all that’s holy, let me know!!! I’m desperate!!!

So that was Thursday…

Then nothing happened until Saturday but due to the nature of what happened on Saturday and the fact that Madison probably wouldn’t appreciate me posting about it, I won’t say, but basically shit hit the fan pretty bigtime. Everything’s okay now though and we’re all one big happy family again and that’s all that matters.

Now I’m going to make steak and read the rest of my Walking Dead comics because guess what? It’s my day off and I don’t have to give a single fuck today!

OH! Speaking of not giving fucks, I am absolutely OBSESSED with this game on my phone called Pocket Frogs. Have you heard of it? IT IS SO STUPID. You catch and breed frogs. And sell them. And that’s basically the whole game. Here’s a screencap:

That screencap was taken a few days ago so I’m probably higher than level 5 now and I think I have 5 habitats, but it is SO addictive. I don’t even know why. If you play too and you know how to play together, let me know and we can send each other frogs!

Anyway, that’s all the poop that’s fit to scoop. I’m outta here!

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