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.

May 18, 2014

Random Sunday Morning Memory

When I was little, my Aunt Sandra lived with my grama because she was just out of high school, really, and not married yet, and as a side job, she was a clown. Her named was “Giggles” (I think) the clown and people would hire her for parties and stuff. I remember one time she convinced my grama to come out clowning with her (YES, *my* antichrist grama!), so they did her all up as a clown and a clowning they went! I can’t remember what my grama’s clown name was or really any details about Aunt Sandra’s clowning other than I had a LOT of balloon animals made for me, but that’s pretty lucky I think. To be able to say, “yeah, when I was little, my Aunt was a clown”. My childhood was magical in some respects, as all childhoods are. That’s just one aspect.

January 3, 2014

Macaulay Culkin…

~Don’t do drugs, kids!~

…*or maybe do more*…

Then there’s this:

Which is an hommage to this:

And someone made this:

I’m sure more will follow! All of this came into my well-protected bubble yesterday and today! Craziness! I kinda love it!

(Thanks Leora for showing me the first video, then her friend for the second one and Leora again for the third! Facebook, gotta love it.)

November 18, 2013

There’s a Hippo in My Tub

My shrink appointment for today got cancelled so I here I am. I got to sleep in and I now have the whole day to do whatever, which I hadn’t really planned on. I didn’t know what to talk to her about anyway. I mean I should probably tell her the stuff I’m about to write here, or at least some of it but I always forget or it doesn’t seem like a big deal when I get there and it probably isn’t now that I’m thinking more about it. Basically, it boils down to this: my inner child? Pretty manic and emotional lately. But I think they’re normal responses to what stimulated them.

Last week, as you all know, I posted those pictures of our family to Facebook and my brother said he had them too, along with many more, especially ones from “the cottage”. My mom replied, “what cottage?” because in her world “the cottage” is John’s cottage where we all go in the summer and hang out now, but in mine and Chad’s childhoods, “the cottage” meant something entirely different. We meant our step/dad’s family’s cottage which I believe was in Madoc, Ontario. Or at least that’s where we stopped at the IGA and the sporting goods store to stock up on water and supplies before going to the cottage. Madoc was “going into town”, anyway.

The cottage itself was a mouse infested, two-room, no running water, plywood shack half on land and half on stilts, right on the shore of the Black River near the Hastings Rapids. It had the world’s scariest outhouse but the roof didn’t leak and it had electricity and a woodstove in the room facing the river. In the room facing the woods, there were cots on one side of the room and various fishing rods, tackle, nets, floatation devices, life jackets etc. on the other. In the room with the woodstove, there was also a couple of “easy chair” type chairs, a table and chairs that were actually pretty cool because the chairs were aluminum benches on either side of the aluminum table. They were blue and chrome. I could have totally made that up but as I visualize the room, that’s what I remember and I know that memory can be a tricky thing. All of those things were facing the river, which you could see out two very big windows, or at least big to a kid, and to the right there was a counter with kitchen stuff on it and a stove, but the oven didn’t work. For toast, there was this super old metal toaster that had a fabric cord and two sides that opened with heating coils in the middle/on one side of each side of the appliance. So you would put your two slices of bread in, and then you would have to wait and keep checking by opening it to see if the one side was toasted well/burnt/whatnot, then when that side was done, you would flip the bread and toast the other side in the same fashion. It was REALLY annoying, but we REALLY like breakfast so it got used a lot.

Since there was no running water, dishes were done in a big plastic tub on the floor.

When we would go up there, we would have to stop in at our step/grampa’s farm in Marmora to get the motor for the boat and I got to see all of the animals (well, most of the time) and the animals our step/Uncle Joe had stuffed recently because he was a taxidermist by trade and pretty good at it. I know it’s trendy to like taxidermy right now, especially chimera taxidermy, but it’s something I’ve been able to appreciate since I was really little because when I was little, our other step/Uncle Rusty, who was some sort of biologist, would show us the stuffed animals and the preserved skeletons and tell us all about the animal. It was almost like going to the zoo.

On our step/grampa’s farm, there were two houses and Uncle Joe lived in the smaller one of them with his wife. Rusty had a room in the big house but would soon flee the country (more like f lee the family) and not be really heard from again until a few years ago. But that’s a whole other thing.

Once we had the motor for the boat, which was at the cottage itself, and threw it in the trunk, we would be out of civilization usually for a week or for however long our step/dad could listen to my brother and I fighting and pack us up and drive us home without uttering a single word (that really happened once). We would go in the boat to this special bend in the river where there was a “shore” of solid but smooth rock on a slope down to the river and grass and the woods behind/above that. Within the area of all this rock, there was a shallow area of the river where you would actually do your swimming and then there was the rapids, which, when we got older, we would go down for fun, either just on our own (banging and scraping our bodies on rocks all the way) or with floaties or on a raft. And also within the area of this rock, we would fish and catch frogs for bait. (I’ll spare you the details on how you use a live frog as bait…it’s actually kind of horrible and I don’t know if I could do it today. Maybe I could. I literally haven’t been fishing since I was 18.)

Long story short, it was pretty awesome and something I had completely forgotten about and last week, my brother sent me 20 photos via text message (pics of pics taken with his phone so I’m just gonna post the one I cleaned up) and as they came in, one by one, I would look at it because they were all of me, and I would remember and I bawled for like, an hour, because my childhood is something I’ve mostly buried. I purposely, mostly, have killed the so-called “inner child” because my childhood was pretty horrible as most of you know. Suddenly being faced with pictures, proof, that “happy” was a part of my childhood sometimes or at some point, was something I wasn’t prepared for. The fact that Ken had saved these pictures and had allowed them to remain in his house when we didn’t part on good terms about 10 years ago was something I wasn’t prepared for either. The fact that my brother and Ken, who have been all but homeless and have been moving around the last few years, found these pictures, of ME!, to be of value, to be important enough to lug around from place to place was something I was not prepared for.

Here’s one of the pics, dunno how old I was, maybe 6 or 7:

So that was last week and then within the last 24 hours, this has happened:

Yesterday we went to London (Ontario) to have lunch with Blake’s mom and Charlie and on the way there, I saw this neat milk truck so I posted it on facebook:

Then friends started talking about how it’s good milk etc. and I mentioned this time I went to Charity J’s house for her birthday party in like, grade 5 or 6, and they had dairy cows. During dinner, they served milk pretty much straight from the cow (and by “pretty much”, I mean it had been refrigerated) and it was the best tasting milk I’ve ever had in my whole entire life. Well, when I posted that, I tagged Charity so she posted about that memory and I just thought of how cool it was that I’m still friends with people with whom I share *good* childhood memories.

So that was yesterday/last night and then this morning I woke up to a message on Facebook from Tina L., who I became really good friends with in grade 9 but then I moved so we lost touch. I went to her house that year for her birthday too and her mom had made Mississippi Mud. Oh lawd. Again, probably one of the best things I’ve ever tasted and that whole afternoon/evening is a really good childhood memory for me. A long time ago, when Tina and I became friends on Facebook, I told her of this memory, which she of course shared as well, and asked her for her mom’s Mississippi Mud recipe because her mom had given it to me at the time but I never made it and it got lost over the last couple of decades. Of course, Tina’s message this morning was her mom and her mom’s mom’s recipe for Mississippi Mud and it is as precious to me as the Hope Diamond, which I basically told her.

And then I cried some more and now I’m writing this.

Oh and I gave Blake the recipe and told him that we’re making it for my birthday (if I can last that long…).

So I guess that’s all I really have to say. It’s just weird that these things all happened so close together. My Aunt Heather always said “things come in threes” so there ya have it. Maybe my supposed inner child is waking up.

Now I think I’m gonna go work on my Secret Satan present because I’m falling behind. Chop chop!

October 30, 2013

Les choses que nous apprenons…

yo yo, quoi de neuf?

Blake, as a new Canadian (did I mention he took his citizenship test and he passed and he was sworn in and can vote and everything now? well, that happened), has decided to take a French class. It started in September and goes until December so it seems like they’re going to cover a lot. He has flash cards and has to do tests and shit. Honestly he’s doing really well. I haven’t heard him speak much of it, I think he’s still unsure of his accent, but he’s showed me his tests and how they do it – I think – is that the teacher gives them a piece of paper with maybe 12 English phrases on it and they’re all numbered. Then the teacher says the first phrase en francais and the students are supposed to write down what they hear. I have no idea how they’re learning things like “est-ce que” (“is that”), which sounds like “eska” (more or less). I would never hear those two syllables and think “oh, that must be three words”. It was on Blake’s test a few times so they must be learning spelling and grammar as well, I just thought Blake told me the whole class is oral/aural. Maybe there’s more to it than that. I know there’s homework involved.

As a Canadian native, I started taking French in school in kindergarten and took it up until grade 9. French is written on everything here, so I know the words for a lot of things but it’s been so long since I used or heard it that I would probably be useless in Quebec and I know I can’t watch TV in French…I’m pretty sure by December, after one class, Blake will be more fluent than I am. C’est la vie!

So this means that on Wednesdays, the kids and I are on our own for dinner and I only see Blake in the morning while I’m working because he doesn’t get home until after I go to bed.

Oh look. Here comes Madison, bugging me for Halloween costume ideas at the last minute…as long as she doesn’t go as a scumbag teenager in normal clothes begging for candy, I *don’t care what she goes as. Also she’s had months to figure this out and it’s the night before, I’m scanning my brain for fucks to give…scanning….scanning…none found!

Awww she suckered me into helping her be Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Damn me for having a ridiculous amount of pink clothing and a hoodie with ears that also happens to be pink! Wes, in case you were wondering, is being a werewolf. We went straight off the rack for his costume and he’s wearing a mask so unless he really wants me to I’m not going to take pics. I may have better luck with Madison.

This last week has been the pits, as far as first world problems, because we’re using shoddy wireless internet using the router built into the modem, so that’s issue #1. Issue #2 is that our ISP something something is having problems something something resolving DNS something something, which in layman’s terms means it takes me approximately 20 tries to load a webpage or upload anything because the internet won’t connect to the host. It’s like, “Connecting….” and then it says, “resolving host…” and then Chrome or whatever browser takes a shit and asks if I want to reload. Repeat literally 20 times or until you give up and try looking at it on your phone.

This DNS issue or whatever it is (Blake’s been on the phone with tech support a million times and they told us a couple of days ago to wait 72 hours to see if it got any better) really fucking sucks because I effectively can’t do part of my job because it involves a form to send e-mails to people and there’s an iFrame or something that tells me when the e-mail’s gone through. With this issue, that iFrame won’t load and tell me either way if the e-mail went through so if I click to send the e-mail again, did I really just send it again or did I now just send two? Oh. iFrame didn’t load again. What now? Possibly send three? There is a work-around I’ve found, but it takes something that already took a long time take ten times longer. What also sucks is that the site I do support for is super bandwidth intensive and I have to run it while I’m working. That’s my job. I can run it mostly okay during my early mornings when no one else is online but when we tried using the internet normally during my shift on Saturday, doing my job was just impossible so everyone was pretty much device-bound while I was the only one using the internet at all. And I was *still* having trouble. It sucked. It does suck.

 There’s also an itty bitty conspiracy theorist in me that thinks our cable company is messing with us because we have unlimited bandwidth now, just this month, and have been pretty liberal with it. But that’s probably crazy…right?

Blake and my brother just taught me how to use the bit torrents to download media and I barely even had a chance to try it out before the internet went down and then we were rendered mostly impotent. I was cut down in my youth. What kind of animals would do this to me?

Anyway, since Blake had French class today after work and didn’t come home in between and he works in the city tomorrow, the earliest he can try the troubleshooting process with tech support again is tomorrow night after taking Wes out to get candy. Like I said, my mornings are okay except for that one thing I can’t/is difficult to do, but on my Saturdays, that part of the job is pretty unavoidable so hopefully they fix our internet before then. I also have my work meeting on Friday which is through Skype so hopefully that’s not a nightmare.

So yeah, tonight we’re on our own. Madison and I each have a frozen pizza that we could eat, but Wes ate his last week so his options are grilled cheese with either Kraft Dinner or soup or neither or any one of those things alone or in conjunction with each other. Honestly, I’ve felt so barftastic today that I’m not sure I’ll eat at all, especially pizza. So we’ll see. I do have like, $50 worth of pharmaceuticals to take right now though and they should be taken with food so…yeah. We’ll see.

And with that, I think I’m off to take my pills, watch Weeds and go to bed.

PS. I mostly liked the new Carrie movie. Finally, some justice for Tommy Ross! Madison HATED the movie and says the original is her favourite movie right now. I expected to have the same reaction because Carrie (1976) is in my top 5 favourite movies and I hate two things: remakes and sequels. But nope, I thought it was actually pretty good. Nothing could ever live up to the piece of art that is the Brian De Palma film, but this new one is way better than any of the other Carrie-related efforts I’ve seen over the years. By miles.

And NOW I’m off to do that shit I said I was going to do 10 minutes ago…

(*mostly.)

August 5, 2013

Be Cool, Man. Christ.

Sooooooooo many thoughts, so little time.

I’ve been thinking about my grama a lot today. My mom says she’s doing really well right now. I mean, obviously she’s still dying, it’s not like she’s doing “better” than before she was diagnosed with cancer, but she’s doing better than she was when she was going through radiation and chemo and she doesn’t need someone with her all the time anymore. It’s not going to last but at least she’s having lots of visitors while things are good. Or so I hear. I know my mom and my brother visit her often and I’m curious to know what she thinks of Chad since she doesn’t really know him. When Chad was like, I dunno, 5 or 6 maybe, my grama gave him a blue lamp that was in the shape of a pencil and he didn’t like it so he said so and threw a tantrum because his present sucked. So my grama took the lamp back and it was in her spare bedroom for the longest time, she probably still has it.

Well, soon after that my parents split for good and my brother went to live with my dad/Ken and when my brother visited my mom, which didn’t happen every weekend or even every other weekend most of the time, they would spend time together, not at my grama’s. The only time my brother ever really saw my grama from that point on was Xmas. She went to his grade 8 graduation too. I don’t recall any of his birthdays being celebrated with her in the picture, but I could be wrong on that.

So yeah, I’m curious to know what she thinks of him now. It would be so funny if she left him the pencil lamp when she died haha

When I was little, we lived with my grama, my mom and I. And my grampa because they were still married then. Then when my mom and Ken got married, we lived above my grampa’s carpet store in Stouffville, beside Good Eat and across from the clock tower. It was a one bedroom apartment so my brother and I shared the bedroom and my mom and dad’s bed and bedroom furniture was in the living room. My dad was a really amazing artist. I’m sure he still is but after we moved into our first house in Greenbank, he sort of stopped drawing and never really picked up the habit again. One of his many artistic talents was airbrushing and my room in the apartment in Stouffville was painted yellow and my dad airbrushed a big rainbow and clouds on one of the walls. I used to read Robert Munsch books to my brother at night, through the bars of his crib, in whispers.

Anyway…I started this post at like, I dunno, 3pm maybe? It is now almost 9:30pm and I have to go to bed because I work at 5am. Boooooooo.

What I did want to say before I go to bed though, is that, at the encouragement of some of my Twitter friends, I’ve been persuaded to put the box of my old zines I found on Etsy for fun and profit so I just finished doing that. I figured there’s no reason not to, they’re just sitting in a box in my office taking up space. Some of you will remember The Paper Blog and may still have copies, while others have probably never heard of it because it’s not like I talk about them all the time or anything. The Paper Blog was a zine I wrote, made and mailed between 2004-2005. Only issues #s 3-6 are on Etsy though because I only have ONE copy each of issues #1 & #2 and the files for them all are now long gone so I’d like to keep those. Issue #7, the final issue, was digital and I no longer have the file.

Go to my Etsy shop, if interested!

I need another project like I need another hole in the head, but I kinda think I want to make a new zine. I was just told yesterday about this site called MagCloud which is a print on demand service where you upload your zine (or whatever) as a PDF and they print it as people order it and send it to them. Then I was also informed that Etsy now allows digital downloads, which, as my friend Less put it, is a fucking game changer. I could make an e-zine and sell it on Etsy. I’m still looking into both of these things, but you have to admit, they have some pretty cool possibilities.

Anyway, it’s now 9:35pm and I am soooooo tired so I’m going to bed. Peace oot.

July 30, 2013

Hands Up, Baby Hands Up

I could be completely wrong but I think that Blurred Lines (ugh) song by Alan Thicke’s son, the “editor’s cut” or whatever of the video I just saw for the first time this morning. I know nothing about this guy other than that one video, I even forget his name like, every time I think about him, which is like, never, so anyway I think he sampled the song I know as “Hands Up, Baby Hands Up” from the old Club Med commercials. Anyway, I’m pretty sure that guy’s a dick whatever the case may be.

Know who else needs public shaming? That Bieber kid. I like, excommunicate him from Canada because in my imagination I have that ability. *taps temple*

Now that that’s over I remember that I came here to add to yesterday’s story that during ALL of that puking, shitting, sprained foot bullshit? I was also on the rag. So like, yay. Which reminds me of this commercial for a wicked service for women in the US that’ll send you your period supplies and a treat in the mail and it’s in tune with your cycle. So I guess it’s for regular period girls. Wouldn’t work for me even if it was available in Canada. (Also I use Lunapads so my periods are basically free at this point.) Anyway I thought it was cool. A good thing to wake up to. Also good to wake up to was this:

Which I got on Layla’s tumblr. (Possibly NSFW all the time but it is right now.)

Also this guy is awesome. That’s from Reddit.

So Snoop Dogg took a trip to Jamaica, brought a bunch of music writers from the US with him and he made a reggae album at a studio there…and turned into a rastafarian because c’mon, this is SNOOP DOGG – or sorry, Snoop LION because he’s “reincarnated” now right? – isn’t that the obvious conclusion? But Bunny Wailer, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of excommunicated him from the rastafarian faith and then everything was cool for a while, as far as I understand it and Snoop and Bunny were friends again, and then I see this really offensive quote where Snoop LION claimed to be the reincarnation of Bob Marley and I just about ate my tongue. So I had interest in the album in the winter when the videos for “Here Comes the King” and “La La La” were released on YouTube – both of which I liked – but then I promptly forgot about it because hello, I have the mind of a goldfish. I sieve out the most unimportant shit I see in a day and keep what was good (or bad, depending on the day).  I see the quote, remember the record, fire up SoulSeek and download it because I am not paying for this crap, especially if I’m pretty sure it’s bullshit. Which it was, but I can’t stop listening to a few of the songs, which have made it on my Summer 2013 playlist. That’s only 22 songs so far but I’m trying to diversify so Blake doesn’t want to kill me on car rides since that’s when it mostly gets listened to. Moral of the story: Snoop Lion is a poser who made a pop record. Congrats.

Speaking of Blake…I woke up with him this morning and we cuddled in bed for about 40 minutes and I didn’t even realize he’d shaved his immigration playoff beard until like, 15 minutes in! He said it was itchy and driving him crazy so he shaved it. Fair enough! I have no idea what it feels like to grow a beard (thank god) and it’s his face, he can do whatever he wants with it. I didn’t like it because I think beards are scratchy and gross on most people and he knows that but that I can deal for short periods of time.

This is one of two giant pieces of Jade found in Canada in 2000. The thread about it is here. Currently they’re debating whether creating a sculpture of a buddhist religious icon with the second one would be more valuable than carving it into a giant dragon penis.

Just a Friend by Biz Markie made it onto my Summer 2013 playlist thanks to Allure from Camwhores (probably NSFW at the moment but definitely a whole lotta fun!) I hadn’t heard that song in soooooo long. :o)

Speaking of Camwhores, there’s a limit of how many videos you can post over there in their blogs section, which I think is a fucking travesty but I’m not going  to bug Kevin to change it because the man has enough problems, so as the one video I’m going to post in this post is this one.

I think I’ve posted it before and people probably already know it, but it’s probably in my top 5 favourite songs of all time (this version though, but a better quality audio track) and it pretty much makes it onto every playlist I make.

Right now Blake and the kids and Brooke and Charlie are at laser tag. haha suckers. Even if my foot wasn’t completely fucked up, I don’t think I would have partook of that. I suggested they go to Pie because it’s right there but I guess there’s pizza at the laser tag place so they’ll just eat there.  Blake’s bringing me home Quiznos. If he keeps my note I’ll show it to you later.

I managed to get to the bathroom, grab a plastic bag from the laundry room, crutch my way into the kitchen, maneuver the fridge on one foot without falling, get 2 Diet Cokes in the bag and crutch back to my office which requires me to go down 3 stairs. Know what that makes me? A fucking ninja badass. Who has Diet Coke.  Booyah.

Thinking at this moment that it would be pretty cool if my brother were here or even if he was on the internet right now. He defriended me on Facebook a long time ago after being a dick on my status update, getting in a fight with my cousin Haylie, me seeing Haylie’s point, my brother then messages me with bullshit and I give him bullshit right back because you fight bullshit with bullshit that’s just how it is. Then he’s like “blah blah blah goodbye sister” or something stupidly dramatic (I realize the irony of that statement!) and defriends me. So that was my last communication with him which was ON WES’ 10TH BIRTHDAY. The status update mentioned Wes’ birthday and finding out my grama was in the hospital and had been diagnosed with cancer. And he pulls bullshit.

But that was February. It’s now almost August and he’s staying with my mom still as far as I know. And he’s seen my grama a lot from what I understand and he’s being very helpful. This is good news. So I’ve been entertaining the idea of hanging out with him and my mom and my grama at my grama’s apartment.

Except this week was out because Brooke & Charlie were visiting, my work meeting was Wednesday, and I have to set up for that…township building art show thingy for the month of August. The thing they made us sign just said that I’d drop the art off and they’d arrange it, so, bonus. At least I don’t have to do that. I just have to buy a tablecloth. If they can do early morning Blake could work from Barrie and drop it all off on his way to work. Maybe if he gets home and isn’t tired from playing with the kids we can go get the tablecloth since he took today off. DAMMIT I’m on crutches. I can’t navigate Wal*Mart on CRUTCHES!!! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

Ugh. That sucks.

I guess my instructions will be “no patterns, don’t pick a stupid colour, don’t pick white, black is okay”? *thumbs up*? bueno? yeez?

Damn. Just looked at Twitter. Whistleblowing = espionage in the US. Wow. No idea what my country would do in the same situation or if they’d even ever be in that situation (probably) but that’s harsh, man. Bradley Manning, 136 years in prison if sentenced to max penalties. Sentencing tomorrow morning. Wow. Just wow. Run Edward Snowden, Run may be tomorrow’s headline.

Don’t you think it’s a little weird that the US is getting less strict about same sex marriage just as Russia is getting more strict on gay everything while they also basically harbour a fugitive the US wants? Interesting timing don’t you think?

Those are the three international news items (and Gitmo) that have crossed my path on a daily basis in the last little while. Or at least the only ones I’m paying any attention to.  Monsanto craziness is always happening it seems and it would make sense that either something in the GMO plants, which Monsanto provides the seed for, or the pesticides the plants have been GM’d to be able to withstand, which Monsanto also makes, is responsible for the whole bee thing so fuck Monsanto and anything GM to the best of your ability. Unfortunately a lot of processed foods already contain GM ingredients and it’s not labeled so like, the best stuff is probably GM unfortunately. Like the potatoes in chips, I bet those are GM. Unless it’s labeled you just don’t know. First it’s the bees, then it’s going to be the butterflies. Then the birds. The fish are already poisoned.

Not that I’d eat fish anyway, but, y’know…

I just made it into the kitchen with my plastic bag and got the last cold Diet Coke and bottle of water in the house, cursing Blake and the children for not leaving me better rations if they were going to be out this long. :o/ I’m not ninja enough to be able to handle stocking the fridge with cases of Coke and water on crutches.

Oh well.

Listening to this. I didn’t link to the official video because I didn’t like the part in the middle screwing up the song’s vibe. I’ve never seen a song so blatantly and heavy-handedly have a message attached to it with a video. It was cool when I thought it was about guns in clubs, which is a very real problem around the world, but attaching it to Sandy Hook and Columbine and everything seemed a little off initial message. Then again, I’m not usually exposed to official music videos. I’ve only just started looking up random stuff on YouTube to see if it exists, if it’s popular, if I can download it and if it’s worth sharing with the world, passing it on.

I didn’t grow up with cable so while I’m of the MTV Generation (or Much Music, as we had/have in Canada), I missed a lot of things just because my music was what was on the radio and tapes my friends made me. So sometimes music videos catch me off guard and since I’m a super auditory person, I’ll usually link the best MP3 quality I can find, unless the live version is good enough. I used to broadcast on Blip.fm but their search engine is so fucking stupid that all it would ever give me is live versions (usually terrible) or covers (also usually terrible) so I gave up and now I’m just linking to YouTube directly. It wouldn’t kill me to have another tab open for quick searches…says the girl with 15 tabs open. And the day’s not even half over yet.

Canadian Man Sorry for Chugging Eight Beers and Swimming to Detroit” <—- hilarious.

 Oh god, a kid just came to the door, I could tell by the knock. Freaked the dogs out so they started barking like over-protective assholes but I’m on crutches. I couldn’t get to the front door and open it without the dogs getting out before the kid was gone on crutches anyway so I had to sit here like a tool and hope they just went away.

Well, my computer is in front of a window and the “front door” is to the right. My music was turned up to 11 because hello, no one’s home, neighbours aren’t home, why not? So I had to sit here though, and wait until they went away because I didn’t want them to hear me typing. Fucking kids. GRRRR.

Okay I just opened the last cold can of Coke in the house. This is TERRIBLE.  Listening to Miley Cyrus makes the pain go away. Have texted Blake for an ETA. Response percentage 50%.

I wish I could afford to get this for Blake for passing his citizenship test. He would absolutely love it. I’m going to try and talk him into buying it for himself. Today is the last day you can get it. Thanks Stephy! (And for once Madison would try stealing HIS clothes rather than mine.)

People never understand me when I say I need two monitors to do my job. My boss taught me how to do it on two monitors and that’s just how I learned. Blake has 2 at home but 3 at work. People don’t understand what I mean when I say I want a titty-free computer – which this one 98% of the time is – and that one has the biggest monitor of the 3 on my desk. 3 monitors, 2 computers. I also have a cellphone in my lap at the moment which has the biggest screen out of all the phones, I’m pretty sure. I am a sadly connected person haha

Listening to this. Have you ever looked the lyrics of this song up on the internet? Funny shit if you ever get bored.  “You are my guiding star, my shingling light, I love you baby”. :o)

I really hope no more kids come to the door. The dogs are spazzes and the kids told all their friends they’d be with their grandparents today so I dunno what dumb kid it must have been. But if he’s dumb enough to knock once, then twice when there was no answer, he’s dumb enough to come back and knock 3 times like the little pestilent troll he probably is.

Dammit. I wasted my only video on something auditory. Well, that’s fine. But I’m listening to Amanda Palmer, who, if you’re not familiar with,  this is a pretty good start and you should totally watch the video because there’s titties, if nothing else.

Blake got Wayned at the grocery store over the weekend and apparently Judy was totally nice to him too for a change. Ashley was with them. I dunno about the baby, I forgot to ask.  Just interesting that they were at our grocery store when he works at the grocery store at the beach. Maybe the beach one runs out of good stuff early on the weekends. Wouldn’t surprise me. Even on days that kinda suck, the beach is usually pretty busy, that’s why we stay out of the main beach area and go to what’s known as Allenwood. The water and sand’s cleaner there than the main beaches, I think, and it’s also not as crowded. The parking’s not as expensive too, I think.

Anyway, it’s just better. I wish we could live near there rather than going closer to Blake’s office.

Random thought, I know, but if you have a reason to be at the beach, I think you should be at the beach!

Blake just texted me back. It’s roughly an hour after I texted him requesting an update on how long I have to make this Diet Coke last. He’s at Quiznos now so that’s probably 40 mins away. Like I said, texting him was a 50/50 shot of actually getting an answer. He hates texting. He got me a small, cold bottle of Diet Coke to go with my sandwich because he’s thoughtful like that. Yay! <3

When they get home, I’m going to end this and spend the rest of the day with them maybe watching Six Feet Under if I can talk Madison into it. Blake will almost literally watch anything so that leaves a wide selection. We finished Trailer Park Boys season 1 on the weekend and I thought it was pretty awesome, so we might watch more of that. Honestly I’m just hungry and don’t really care either so it’ll probably be one of those. Or a movie of Blake’s choosing.

They’re home! YAY!

Here’s my note to Blake. Peace be with you my ninjas!

July 29, 2013

My Baby Don’t Dance

So on Thursday morning I jumped a fence to get to the field behind our house with Wes to take pictures and I landed on my foot just…wrong….and it swelled up – it’s still swollen – and it really fucking hurt and then it was numb in some places and Blake had to come home from work and take me to the hospital where they took some x-rays, determined nothing was broken, it was “just” sprained, elevate it, ice it, “do whatever it says on the internet but do not wrap it”, he said. So I haven’t had it wrapped since leaving the hospital but it’s still puffy and now it’s starting to bruise. I’m using Madison’s crutches.

On the way home Blake said, “if you could eat anything in the world, what would it be?” and I swear all I remember was saying “poutine” which was just idiotic because apparently poutine from this particular place is out of the question ever again. Diarrhea on crutches really fucking sucks. That was my Thursday night and Friday morning. Friday was barf day where I threw up 4 times – making it to the toilet twice. I was siiiiiick.  I couldn’t keep down water, Gravol OR Zofran. Then Friday evening I had some Canada Dry ginger ale and some other medicine and I felt okay. My foot obviously still hurt but at least the diarrhea and the vomiting finally fucked right off.

Friday evening Blake went to a BBQ with his work friends where the LUCKY BASTARDOS had Stouffville Pizza and Blake told them about The Glotch.

All night I wondered if it would be cool to move back to Stouffville since we’d be approved for a house we could afford there, it’s technically in the running, but I grew up there and when I was in high school, all of us were like…no, living in Stouffville when you were a grown up after spending your childhood there made you a total loser, a failure as a human being to go out and find better…but Stouffville has changed a lot since I grew up there. Apparently Good Eat is gone, which makes me sad. That was the Chinese food like, of Stouffville for a very long time. My family used to be good friends with the man who owned that building. Anyway, it was just an idea I entertained for about a millisecond. I’d rather have family, which is what we get if we move to where my mom lives, than a whole bunch of new friends in Stouffville. I still may write about The Glotch though. ;o)

So that was Friday. Madison and I stayed up late watching Six Feet Under.

Saturday we finished Orange is the New Black. Loved it.  Mr. Healy looks exactly like my friend Robert Peate which I thought was cool at first and then…well, spoilers.

Saturday we watched Rise of the Planet of the Apes for the second time and it really just didn’t impress me. The new one they’re doing will hopefully be better but obviously my expectations are pretty high; I can see they really tried with the last one.

Moving right along…FUCK. It’s 6pm? Awwww I have to take my pills in like, an hour but I’ve had the last 4 days off work (w00t w00t! even though I haven’t been able to do ANYTHING but fuck around on the internet and watch TV – which I’m totally cool with)  and my sleep schedule is super messed up. Blake’s mom’s in town and they’re going out for dinner and Blake said they probably won’t even have dinner until like, 7pm. So not only will I have to go to sleep before they get home, but *I* won’t get to have “dinner” until 4 o’clock tomorrow morning. Good thing I picked yam rolls and beef teriyaki from Furusato which is right near the Mandarin, which is where Grama Brooke, Grampa Charlie and Wes and Blake and Madison are meeting after Madison’s doctor’s appointment. They’ve left me with a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich, 1 bottle of water, 3 cans if Diet Coke and my 7pm pills which should, theoretically knock me out by about 9-9:30pm but like I said, my system’s all messed up from being off work for 4 days, so I actually plan to take all the psych meds and the pancreas meds but postpone the sleep meds a little to be gentler to my system and just suffer a  little tomorrow morning to help establish a new program of being for a day before…dun nuh nuh nUH! Wednesday’s work meeting. Who knows what happens at work meetings? Crazy shit, that’s what, you have no idea. It pains me that I’m not allowed to discuss any of it.

My fucking friend just texted me and asked if I could pay him for something in our website’s currency and I’m like, dude that would get me FIRED so damn fast which would be bad for both of us so let’s just stfu now. That is what happens when I talk about sensitive information. So I’ve just decided that mum’s the motherfucking word on all things work related. Talking about diarrhea on crutches? Awesome. Shit that will make me lose friends or get me fired? Nope. I’ve found this leaves me little to actually talk about because I’m honestly not all that interesting.

Anyway, since I have to go to bed early-ish tonight, that peanut butter and jam sandwich is all I get until 4am when ideally I’m getting yam rolls at the very least, teriyaki if I’m lucky and tonight my options are Netflix or internet and I pick internet, again, because internet is just more fun and always will be. :o)

Last night on Reddit, I upvoted some guy because his dog’s balls were spectacular. This is what happens when I start going down internet k-holes, not to be confused by the awesome site of the same name. They usually start on Reddit or YouTube or Wikipedia or even just Google itself and how I get to where I find some of the weird shit I see, I can’t even explain.

So let’s begin this little experiment, shall we? Let’s see how long I can go before the meds kick my ass to bed just rambling and throwing out links.

Last night I was somehow reminded of Chris Sheppard, a Toronto radio/club DJ from the super early 90s, possibly the late 80s? Who made these compilation CDs. This one was always the beginning of my favourite. I didn’t have the CDs, my cousin Chris did and I spent a lot of time with them at that time and this would be what we’d listen to.  So that was pretty cool. That channel has a bunch of Chris Sheppard mixed songs and it says it’s by request but I don’t remember any individual songs so I can’t request anything.

Oh god. haha So LONG story short, I found myself on a certain internet celebrity’s YouTube channel who I hadn’t really been following for a while but this person normally doesn’t talk in their videos but there WAS a newish video where they DID talk! So I watched it and I just about had a conniption fit at what a dork this person is. I shouldn’t laugh because I myself am the hugest dork but it was not what I expected and I just laughed and laughed and I’ll never forget it.

Annnnd now it’s 7pm. Time to take my psych, stomach, pancreatic and pain meds.

I’m listening to this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Today I Learned that brussel sprouts can look edible.\m/

Listening to this, which, don’t laugh, is fucking poetry. Okay you can laugh, but tell me it isn’t awesome in its simplicity. Don’t watch the video, just have it on in another tab. The video is stupid, no contest.

omg so Blake is growing an immigration playoff beard haha what a retard. I love the hell out of that man, he fucking kills me. Meanwhile, speaking of the retarded, here’s me:

Listening to A Tribe Called Red while quoting Metric like the good little Canadian girl I am. This time you probably want to watch the video:

Blake just called; they’re on their way home with my sushis yum yum yum! Blake wants me to start eating healthier and this IS healthier. Healthier than the waffles I had for “breakfast” and the peanut butter and jam sandwich I had for “lunch” – but Blake thinks there’s a grease threshold that I can’t process due to my shitty pancreas and lack of a gallbladder and Furusato was the only thing I could think of that wouldn’t significantly contribute to said “grease threshold”. Anyway, when they get back I’ll take my sleep meds and eat the sushi because yam rolls are best as fresh as possible. *thumbs up*

I guess I’ll end this and post this is various places and have a lovely night with something on Netflix! Peace oot, homes!

June 28, 2013

This is pretty cool…

…so I’m posting it here and there and everywhere.

 

Recently I learned I’m not the perfect parent I thought I was…not that I really thought I was perfect, like, in italics, but I’d been complimented and praised so much because of things I’ve written here or just by people who have met my pretty awesome kids and like, my mom once, so I thought I was doing a pretty good job. Blake has shit to work out. I don’t like how much all of us yell and neither does he so it’s something that we’re constantly working on but certain children of ours sometimes test our limits for whatever reason kids do that and we cross the line but so do they. (Well, I don’t think Wes has ever yelled back yet, but obviously one day he will.)

Because Madison has expressed disinterest in my online world and has asked for more privacy, I think she’s going to appear less and less on this blog. But I don’t want anyone noticing this and thinking that because I’m not talking about her on here as much that I love her any less or that we don’t love each other, or anything awful like that. I know a lot of you follow this blog because I post pictures of Madison or I talk about Madison simply because I’ve been doing it since literally her birth in one way or another, online. It started in my Compuserve days, then I made my Angelfire site and then the Scratching Post message board, then Live Journal and now my actual blog for the last almost 7 years. She’s a big part of my life and honestly? My favourite part of my life, especially at this age, but I understand wanting more privacy, especially at this age, so I respect her request.

Wes on the other hand, is now a Pocket Frogs addict, which I introduced to him yesterday and he now has on his iPod, so that happened. We haven’t been making any videos for his YouTube channel because  we’re having bandwidth problems. Both of my Flip cameras have died and you can’t buy them anymore because the company stopped making them, which sucks because they were awesome, and my Digital Rebel, which can make videos, makes huge files and I don’t know how to make them smaller and we think that we reach 75% of our bandwidth cap halfway through the month on months we’ve uploaded videos to YouTube (also with the addition of Netflix). But we plan to make a video soon. I’m not sure if it’s going to be a Minecraft video or a Wes video though, he just said he wants to make a video.

We went to the beach yesterday because it was ridiculously hot and it has been for a few days so the hope was that it warmed up at least some of the lake, at least close to the shoreline, and while the water was still way too cold for me, Blake and the kids swam out to the second buoy and stayed out there for at least 15 minutes before getting too cold and coming back to the car.

Speaking of the beach, I posted this on Facebook yesterday while I was sitting in the car AT the beach:

And when I got home there were comments so I started commenting too, and I had this to say about our lovely freshwater beach:

Jenn, you need to come visit us one day. The beach here is awesome. Too cold for me today, though. I feel bad for the people planning on spending Canada Day here, we just haven’t had enough super hot days to heat a lake that size but once it heats up, it is awesome.

I also added, “Or at least I think so. Keeping in mind that the ocean ALSO creeps me out.

Then there were more comments, but then Belinda mentioned that she worked at a public pool which for some reason reminded me of the public pool that used to be in Stouffville (it may still be there, but I kinda don’t think so), which was one of those memories that hits you in the gut because it was sort of awesome and yet you’d totally forgotten about it. So here’s what I wrote:

Where I grew up we had this outdoor public pool in the park and the changeroom floors were always slimy, wet and disgusting and every toilet had a turd in it and the seats too were also always wet. And there was never any toilet paper or paper towels in there anyway so there was no point in even going there. The “kids pool” (there were 3 pools, a baby pool, a kids pool and “the” pool) water was literally salty and warm because there was so much piss in it. So fucking gross, I’m practically gagging just thinking about it. But when you’re like, 7 and it’s really hot out and your cousins are going because it only costs a dollar to get in, you go! And you have fun! But still, I mostly remember the nastiness.

When I used to go to the pool with my cousins, we lived right in the middle of downtown Stouffville and the pool was just across the park. And we also tended not to have any parental involvement in 75% of anything we did. I was also babysat by my Aunt Heather during those times, who was flat out negligent, possibly crazy, incredibly damaged, but really really fucking fun. Maybe I’ll start writing about that time in my life since I never really have.

Today it’s rainy but it’s supposed to be nice for the long weekend (Canada Day is Monday) and my mom invited us to the cottage on Sunday where we’re apparently going to have fireworks, so that’s something to look forward to. She just e-mailed and said to come whenever we want and that we’d be having hamburgers for dinner. I had to tell her that Madison’s a vegetarian now and that she should get veggie dogs when she does the groceries because I’m pretty sure you can grill them.

I haven’t picked up my camera in weeks. Daisies grew in our front yard this year and I never even photographed them. I meant to but the construction guys freak me out too much. The dogs are crazy shedding right now and our house is carpeted in fur despite our best vacuuming efforts. We found a flea on Lucky so we put Advantage on all the pets so hopefully they’ll fuck right off. Fleas looooove me, as do mosquitoes and horseflies etc. and I haven’t been bitten so I’m pretty sure he didn’t have many fleas on his to begin with. Advantage usually kicks in pretty quickly.

We had a guy at the house this week who re-drywalled our bathroom, fixed the leaky tap and tiled our shower and did a pretty nice job. It’s nothing special or anything, just white tile. We’re fixing up the house so we can sell it next spring, or at least put it on the market. I think the next thing we’re going to do is re-roof the roof of my office. Again. This time with metal. \m/

Yesterday I went to Michael’s to get “Santa’s Flesh” paint by Delta only to find that Michael’s doesn’t carry it. So I bought Americana’s “Flesh Tone” instead and when I got home I compared the two bottles and the “Flesh Tone”  paint is way too dark. I hate playing around with mixing colours so I guess I’m going to have to order “Santa’s Flesh” from Stockade. Which is fine, they’re a good company and everything, it’s just that now I have two bottles of a flesh tone I’ll never use and it’s not worth the gas to take them back. (Because of course I’m an idiot and I bought two, thinking they’d be the same as “Santa’s Flesh”.) I know, first world problems.

I’m working on a pretty kickass angel painting at the moment. One day as Madison was leaving the house, I asked her to give me 3 painting ideas off the top of her head and one of her suggestions was “the moon”, which gave me an idea and an angel made the most sense for the idea I had so there ya have it. People on Facebook liked the initial sketches so I think it’s going to be pretty good.

Right now Wes is at a birthday party for his best friend, Emily, who’s “really into lizards these days” so we got her this blown glass lizard and a little jeweled lizard pin. I think she’s going to really like them.  I got myself 2lbs of Jelly  Bellies. We also went to Pie 2 because it’s closer than the original location and we hadn’t been in a while. Or at least it felt like a while. I got pepperoni and mushroom this time and I really enjoyed it because their pepperoni isn’t crappy pepperoni, it’s the good stuff. I still have 3 pieces left so I think I’m going to go eat those.

Anyway, that’s all I got in me today. I think I’m gonna go eat, watch a movie and work on my painting. Have a lovely weekend! :o)

June 7, 2013

Smurf off, eh?

Yesterday was hell. Pure and utter hell. I worked in the morning and everything was fine and after work, I went back to bed and got up at like, 10:30am or so. In pancreatic pain. I’d had some discomfort on Sunday or  Monday so Blake picked me up some hydromorph contin and I started a really bland diet. Not quite the liquids-only diet you’re supposed to go on during a pancreatic attack but I barely ate anything between then and today.

Anyway, I woke up in pain and stumbled into my office to sit down, check e-mail etc. and I was just in way too much pain to even do that, so I took a hydromorph, pancreatic enzymes just in case they might help (they don’t usually but they won’t hurt me so there’s no harm in trying), Tylenol 1, ibuprofen and Gravol (anti-nauseant, so I didn’t throw the pills back up). Then I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and stumbled back to bed.

I laid there for about 25 minutes in excruciating pain, hot and cold and sweaty and just feeling like I was dragged through an asshole backwards, when I had to get up to puke. Moving is the worst when I’m having an attack, just turning over in bed makes me want to die, like I can feel my guts touching my pancreas and it fucking hurts just having one organ slide against the other. I have no idea what organs are near what, all I know is that when my guts shift when I turn over in bed during an attack the pain is a million times worse than having a baby.

So I get up to puke and I’m hugging the bowl partially feeling like I have to puke and partially hoping I puke because maybe it’ll make me feel better (it won’t) but at the same time, I’m worried if my pills had enough time to do their thing before I barf them up.

Well, there were no pills in my vomit so that was good, but I puked so hard that I peed my pants. (TMI? TFB.) So I started crying and when I was finally done barfing, I rinsed my mouth and went back to the bedroom to put a new pair of underbums on. I didn’t bother with pants because I knew that next time I puked, it would just be the same scenario unless I was COMPLETELY empty beforehand which just isn’t possible because when you have to puke, you just have to puke. This peeing while puking thing is relatively new, it just started happening after I got home from the hospital last year. It’s just that while having a pancreatic attack, I vomit with such force that I can’t help it.  When I’m sick, like with a stomach flu or whatever, it doesn’t happen. Just during pancreatic attacks. I dunno why.

Without going into more detail than I need to because it’s really just more of the same, I spent all of yesterday in bed, only coming out of my room to throw up. I don’t remember Blake coming home. I remember at some point he got me a glass of ice water and my night time pills (and Gravol so I didn’t throw them up). I think that was around 7pm. Then I laid in bed some more and slept a bit, then I got up I think around 11pm because I finally felt sort of better and so I sat in my office and checked e-mail while Blake got ready for bed.

I woke up this morning still in pain, but nowhere near as bad as yesterday. And really, this attack was not as bad as any of the others so that’s encouraging I guess. The only thing I can point to as far as a cause is that on Tuesday, we had macaroni and cheese for dinner (like, baked macaroni and cheese with real cheese and milk, NOT Kraft Dinner) which I had leftovers from on Wednesday for dinner. This never used to be a trigger food but it’s been a possible factor for the last 2 attacks and this time I was really careful; I took 3 pancreatic enzymes each night. During the 2 attacks prior to yesterday, I did not take enzymes before/after the mac & cheese so this could be why those attacks were worse than this one. The other thing I’m thinking is that traditionally, Blake’s bought medium cheddar to make it and I asked him to start using old cheddar instead because I thought that’s what my mom and gr. grama used. And then mac & cheese becomes a trigger food.

SO, I’m gonna bite the bullet and try macaroni and cheese again maybe next week or the week after using medium cheddar, with enzymes, and see what happens. After an attack, I have to rest my pancreas as much as possible, hence the 2 week window. Macaroni and cheese being a trigger food is NOT COOL AT ALL. It is one of the only food that, up until now, I’m almost always in the mood for. I rarely get sick of it and when i can’t think of anything to eat, that’s my go-to staple. So it’s really going to suck if I can’t eat it anymore. :o/ Not like my fat ass needs it but, y’know…

Speaking of my fat ass, check out this slip that Blake bought me the other night. How gorgeous is that? I ordered the pink one so it would go with this sweater in the winter and I dunno what yet in the summer:

Unfortunately I’m not built like the model on the Free People site so wearing it as is, over top of anything bodycon or skin tight is sort of out of the question. I’m definitely going to have to try and find a white or pink skirt or something to wear underneath it, even with that sweater because the sweater doesn’t cover my bum. Unfortunately everything I own that would work for that purpose is black and that piece is too delicate for black. It needs white. I dunno, I’ll find something. There’s an ivory mini dress that would work on my Free People wishlist if anyone felt so inclined…. I wish I could get the slip in blue too, because this piece is literally my favourite of all their new stuff and blue’s more versatile but I went for the pink first because I suspected that it would sell out of my size first. I ordered a medium so neither colour has run out of my size yet, but the large in pink has sold out already so I suspect the medium’s not far away.

Anyway, I love it. :o)

On Wednesday we went to see my grama with the kids. She looked okay, better since the chemo is out of her system now. More alert, more “up”. I’m not sure how that is compared to her every day but she seemed to have enjoyed the visit and when we said we were going to leave because we had to have dinner and stuff, my grama said she’d pay for dinner and that we could eat there and take the leftovers home, so Stouffville Pizza was called and pizza was had.

At one point, my grama pulled me into her bedroom and handed me a basket of rubber smurfs and I said, “I can have these?” because I had told my mom a while back that if I had my pick of anything of my grama’s to have, it would be those and she said “just one” so this is the one I picked:

Meet painkiller addicted junkie artist smurf.

She also gave me a full-sized plush smurf, which honestly I had no interest in but she wanted me to have it so I took it anyway. I wanted the little rubber ones like the one above because when I was little, she collected them and they were my favourite thing to play with at her house, where I spent a lot of time. Smurfs were also our family’s mascot for the smash-up derby in Minden at Thanksgiving when I was little and we used to enter. There were usually smurfs painted on the car or a stuffed smurf crazy glued to the roof of it. I think I’ve already written about my grama and I going to Minden for Thanksgiving every year when I was tiny until I was about 13, but for those who don’t know, my grama’s next-door-neighbour and friend was Mike Baker, the son of Wes Baker, my son’s namesake. He bought property up north in a town called Minden and started building a house there by hand and every Thanksgiving weekend, on the Saturday, Minden has a smash-up derby. And as long as I can remember until I was maybe 12 or 13, Mike and our family would enter a car in the derby and I’m not sure if we usually won or not but I think we did. All I know is that in October in Minden in 1984 was VERY VERY cold. Now, thanks to global warming, it’s not so bad (and I’m so sure smash-up derbies are great for the environment!)

I remember being like, 3 years old and sitting in the backseat of my grama’s car in a full snowsuit in between heats, freezing my ass off while it lightly snowed. My grama had brought hot chocolate in a thermos and I remember being very very happy. Thanksgiving in Minden used to be the best holiday. My cousin Jeff who was maybe 2 or 3 years older than me I think came up with his mom, Eunice, and often his sister Janet, who would sometimes bring a friend or two as well. I think there were other kids there too but I don’t know who. Janet died the summer I was sick. I don’t know how she died, I just know that while I was in the hospital dying, so was she and obviously I’m here to tell about it and she’s not. Eunice used to babysit me so I was really close with Jeff and Janet when I was little.

During the first few years of going to Minden for Thanksgiving I think Mike only had a basement. I’m not even sure there was running water. Instead of getting turkey, we would have fried chicken, that I want to say was Dixie Lee, but I forget now. Eventually there was a whole house built, including a kitchen, so we’d have chicken on the Saturday, derby day, and my grama would make a turkey on the Sunday and then we’d come home Monday. Jeff and I would play our Gameboys together and all of us would go for walks in the bush. Once we dug up an oak tree and transplanted it to my grama’s house…which is now someone else’s house. :o/

For the derby, we would only enter one car but we’d have multiple drivers for the various heats. Mike drove; I remember my Uncle Bill driving, his son Billy eventually and also my Aunt Sandra’s husband John drove a couple of times. I think there were other people too but no one I really knew. Eunice may have even driven in it at one point, they had a “powder puff” heat just for the ladies (ugh) so she might have. I’m pretty sure my grama never did. I have no idea what my grampa was doing for all of those Thanksgivings because I don’t remember him being there. (He may have gone to my Aunt Judy’s  for T-giving because she did T-giving at her house up until my cousin Kim died.)

Anyway, I’m not sure how it got started, I should have asked her, but I think I remember my grampa getting her the small rubber smurfs that I used to play with when I was a kid, like the one above. I don’t know how they came packaged or if they came packaged at all. I’ve never seen any “out in the wild”, so to speak. Since I only got to pick one out of the two dozen she had, I thought that one was the most fitting for me. I played with junkie artist smurf the most when I was little. He was always married to Smurfette. (My grama never had a real Smurfette though. The one she had was a knock-off with green skin.) I didn’t marry a dude with green skin, but he does have a lot of tattoos and I did become an artist when I grew up, so that’s why I picked junkie artist smurf.

And I suppose this is a good segue into the next topic…the stupid Artist Studio Tour this fall.

We have decided to take moving off the table for now and work on getting our house ready to sell next spring. There aren’t any houses we like right now in the area where we’re looking and the idea of having our house on the market freaks me right the fuck out. Everything about moving freaks me right the fuck out. The good news is that the real estate agent who came to look at our house, said we could sell it for like, SIGNIFICANTLY more than we bought it for, especially after we do everything on the list, primarily re-doing the bathroom (re-drywalling one wall, installing a shower insert and fixing the plumbing behind the tub faucets because they leak), painting part of the one of the living room walls where it’s bare wood due to us putting in the new window, painting the trim of the house and potentially taking down the shutters on the front of the living room window and putting up ones that fit better because the shutters that are there now were put there for the floor-to-ceiling window that used to be there, but we replaced it with a waist-high bay window after Lucky broke the big one. The other thing is that we re-did our mortgage a couple of weeks ago and the bank manager lady said we’re eligible for a mortgage 3 times the size of the one we have now. Not that we’d buy a house that expensive but it’s nice to know that we can afford a century home with a bit of borrowing cushioning on top for added peace of mind.

So. That means we’re going to be living here in September. When the tour is. And I got the e-mail this week from Mike saying “hey guys, our meeting’s next week!” and I reeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaalllly don’t want to go. I don’t want to go because we decided during the last meeting that June 30th was the deadline to decide if you’re going to be in the tour or not and I’m sure that’ll be reiterated during the meeting. And the fact is, I don’t think I have $75 between then and now. I’ve been trying to be super good with paying down my credit card, which has me living on abou $50 per paycheque. This paycheque was only $45. And that’s the pits. I mean, the good news is that I don’t really like, NEED anything. The spending money I keep in my bank account after paying my credit card isn’t allotted to anything and it gets primarily spent on food. I suppose it wouldn’t be completely irresponsible to spend $75 on the tour since I’ll have gotten 3 paycheques this month so I guess I have a little more money to work with.

But still that’s $75 I highly doubt I’ll make back. Plus what I’m going to have to spend on business cards.

Speaking of business cards, as an aside, when I went to see my shrink last Thursday, Sue, the receptionist, for the second time, told me that my painting that I gave to my shrink and put in Touched By Fire this year that is on display at the mental health centre gets a lot of compliments and that people inquire about buying it all the time. And she asked me if I had any business cards that she could pass along when people comment on it. And I kinda hated that because I like to keep my shrink life and my internet life COMPLETELY separate. My shrink has next to zero idea of anything I do online. She knows I blog, but like, I don’t even think my shrink is on Facebook. She’s not very tech savvy, so the topic has never really come up in the 7 years I’ve been seeing her.

Well, my business cards are like ATCs (artist trading cards). On the front is a picture of a painted girl – several different styles because I use Moo and you can get as many designs on a pack of Moo cards as you want – and on the back is the URL to my Etsy shop, the URL to my main site and I think my e-mail address. I have both full-sized Moo cards and the mini ones, although I haven’t bought business cards in at least 5 years so I only had one full-sized business card, which I gave Sue, and about 5 or 6 mini cards.

I also felt compelled to tell Sue that the paintings take me about 2 or 3 weeks to make and because they’re so labour intensive, they’re kind of expensive. A lot of the people who go  to the mental health centre I do are on disability or Canada pension – fixed incomes – and I kinda wanted to give Sue a heads up because I don’t think the average clientele there can afford my paintings. If I wasn’t making them, I couldn’t afford them either. Hell, hardly any of the people who come to my site can seem to afford them either. I don’t think my prices are unreasonable, not for original paintings, as opposed to prints, because y’know, I’d love to make more than $2 an hour, but they are how much they are because my time, my ideas, my efforts are marketable commodities. I just suck at actually marketing them. (Truthfully I put zero effort into it though outside of my own site so that’s partially my own fault.)

So. Guild meeting on Wednesday and I pretty much have to make my decision to be in the tour or not by then. As far as anyone but Brian knows I’m in and I’ve said all along, I’m in, and now that we’re not moving I have less of an excuse to not do it.

I’m scared of being paired up with someone. I don’t have a public studio so I’ll be paired with someone who does. I’m really REALLY hoping I can display at the library because it’s only 2 minutes from our house and the kids can come in and out and Blake can come in and out and I can come in and out, but if I’m paired with someone out in the middle of nowhere, the kids can’t help and Blake will HAVE to stay with me the whole time. And I won’t be able to leave. If I get paired up with someone, they’re going to want to chat all day and chances are I’m not going to want to but I’ll feel obligated to because this person is opening their home to me to help me sell my work. And I don’t want to be rude, but that would cause me great anxiety. I hate the role of “guest”.

I’m scared of dealing with “the public”. I hate talking about 3 things: myself (go figure), sex (also go figure) and I hate talking about my work. People ask me questions all the time about my paintings and I have absolutely no idea what to tell them. Like, after Touched By Fire the lady who runs the organization behind it called me and asked if I had more work because there were a lot of people interested in it who were disappointed that the piece I put in the show this year wasn’t for sale. (Which was pretty stupid because all of my work is ON THEIR FUCKING SITE, supposedly “for sale” yet I’ve never been able to figure out how you actually buy anything on there and I’ve definitely never sold anything there.) So anyway, she calls me and asks me this and I give her the URL for my Etsy shop and then out of nowhere she asks, “what is your inspiration for these?” and I was completely dumbfounded because no one had ever asked me that before. My genius answer was “Toddlers & Tiaras“. Which is partially true. In the beginning, they just came out of my imagination, but then I started watching Toddlers & Tiaras and that show inspired me in 3 ways: 1. it made me come up with several dress styles, 2. it made me come up with several different hairstyles, hair colours and eye colours/eyeshadow colours and 3. the girls on that show is exactly whose bedroom walls I want to see my work on. Sadly, the show’s become pretty extreme in its views so I’ve stopped watching (and I watched half of an episode of Honey Boo Boo, which is also garbage) and my girls just come out of my imagination now, not really inspired by anything explainable. At least saying I was inspired by Toddlers & Tiaras has an quasi-interesting story behind it but telling someone that the scrapbooking aisles of Michael’s makes me damn near wet my pants is NOT what they want to hear. It’s the truth though! But it’s not one many can relate to so it’s a terrible answer for that question. I can’t even think of other potential things people might ask me because I’ve blocked past conversations out of my brain and thinking about it is practically panic-inducing. But I need to think about it, I need to be ready.  I need to have answers ready for questions like the inspiration one and other things they might ask. What would YOU ask an artist at a studio tour? Has there ever been anything you’ve ever wanted to ask me about my work but just never bothered? The more relevant questions you guys throw at me, the better prepared I think I’ll be. No rush though, the tour’s not until September.

I’m probably going to have to take the Saturday off of work. I work 9 hours on Saturdays. That’s a pretty huge chunk of change out of my paycheque that will not be replaced no matter how many paintings I sell (which I don’t anticipate to be many). If they do put me in the library though, I could be there from opening until I start work at 2pm and then Blake could stay there until it’s over at (I’m assuming because last year’s brochure doesn’t say when it starts or finishes) 6pm. Then I would be present all of Sunday.

Another bonus of being at the library is that I would be able to take credit cards there. I can have my laptop hooked up with my Etsy shop open and if people liked a piece but only had a credit card, they could purchase it on Etsy, minus the postage, and I could just give it to them. Anywhere else, I would have to be cash only. Cheques bounce and people are hard to find after something like this so those are completely out of the question. (How do I tell people I won’t accept a cheque?? Cuz, that’s like saying you don’t trust them, which is true, I don’t, but you don’t want them to think that…)

A snag with the library is that I may not be able to hang anything on the walls. Which would be problematic since everything I make is to be hung on a wall.

I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DO THIS. *panic*

The other thing is being involved. I don’t like going to the guild meetings because it’s almost painful how it’s one step forward, two steps back. At the same time, not only do I have nothing to contribute but I’m glad I don’t have anything to contribute because then you’re on the hook for something and that is crazy panic-inducing.

My work is going to be on display at the township office for all of August and I’m going to have tour guides in my display. That’s what I’ve committed to and that’s all my mental health can allow me to commit to. Hopefully that’s enough.

In about half an hour, Blake and Madison (and Blake’s friend Charissa) will be starting the Canadian Cancer Society’s Relay For Life. It starts at 7pm and ends at 7am and neither of them had a nap today. I told Blake that if he woke me up in the morning that I’d cut him, so he’s going to come home and sleep on the couch until I get up. I really wanted to go with them tonight to take pictures but I still feel like shit because of the whole pancreas deal, I’m on a crapload of hydromorph contin so I’m chemically dozy at the moment and probably couldn’t pull an all-nighter if I wanted to. Plus I work tomorrow and I figured I could sleep from 8am, when they would be getting home, until 2pm when I started work and would probably be okay until the end of my shift at 11pm but with this much morphine in my system and only 3 people on the team (the less people you have, the more time you have on the track and the less able I am to get home if necessary), I didn’t want to gamble on it. Also, it’s currently raining and is supposed to rain off & on all night. So yeah, I stayed home. However! If you would like to sponsor their poor soggy asses, you can click here to do so! I just reloaded the page and they have DOUBLED their donation goal since the other day when it was looking like they wouldn’t even meet it! Thanks, family and friends! Your donations mean a lot to us right now, especially since my grama’s really happy that we’re doing this (I say “we” like I’ve actually done anything other than trying to use social media to get donations. HINT HINT.)

Now I think I’m going to finally watch this TED Talk I’ve had open in another tab since 6am but never got a chance to watch until now. Then since all I’ve eaten and kept down in 3 days is a lone, single spring roll, I’m going to make a bagel sandwich for dinner, watch Magic Mike since Blake’s not here to make fun of me for watching it a second time (the 1st was in the theatre so it’s extra stupid), eat chips, read my book and go to bed.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. Peace oot, homies!

PS. Mike, the guy who runs the artists’ guild, is a photographer who also does commercial fine art printing. I don’t have prices yet but he can take pics of my paintings that actually do them justice (in theory) and he can print giclees of them. Any size I want. So these are the questions:

– Most of my paintings are approx. 12 inches x 12 inches. How big should I offer the giclees?
– Open edition or limited edition?
– How much would you be willing to pay for a signed giclee print? Or would you be willing to buy one at all? If not, why not? (I ask because there are posters in my Zazzle shop that so far no one’s touched but a poster is a far cry from a signed, limited edition giclee.)
– Since each print would be too big to mail flat, I would have to use mailing tubes and those cost money. I haven’t priced them yet so I’m just guessing $4-$5 as a ballpark with double that for actual shipping costs. These costs are unavoidable so they obviously factor into the final price.
– Which current pieces of mine would you be interested in buying a print/prints from?

I just kinda want to get a feel for what people might want now that this is a possibility. I dunno if it’d even be worth it since I have no idea what he charges for taking pictures and like I said, no one’s bought the inexpensive posters from my Zazzle shop so I don’t even know if anyone would want these. I can tell you right now that a print would probably have to be about $40-$50 because I have to pay Mike to take proper pictures of them, whereas the posters, which are lesser quality obviously, are only around $20. The posters are nice though, I wouldn’t sell them if they were crappy, but a giclee is signed on archival fine art paper using archival dyes and is something you’d want to get framed, whereas with a $20 poster, it’s okay to just stick thumbtacks in the corners.

Anyway, lemme know your thoughts.

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