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.

September 17, 2014

I was not a cool kid. I was a ghost.

I work a lot. That’s what I’ve been doing. My grama died in July, my shrink retired in August and just as life was normalizing, I asked for extra hours at work now that I have a car (which I got)  but we also hired 3 new people which means working overtime to train them. On top of that, a couple of Sundays ago, when I was in Militiagan for a wedding (more on that later), my boss messaged me on AIM and asked if she could have a word with me, freaking me out completely  at first because I thought I fucked something up and I hadn’t worked since that Friday morning so for it to have cropped up now, I figured it must be something pretty bad that she’d spent time talking to other people about. I wasn’t far off the mark about her talking to other people, but it wasn’t anything bad. She told me that there was one aspect of our job (our job is not just e-mail, it’s many things) that she thought I did a really good job at and she wanted me to sort of be like, the expert/final decision-maker/manager of this one thing. So that was really cool and I felt really good about myself (although part of me is terrified that she only thinks I suck the least at this thing because I also probably do it the least and now that I’m doing it MORE my fuck up rate is going to go up too). She told me that this would take effect immediately and it would mean that my workload would increase but that was okay because she gave me 9 extra hours per week that she wanted dedicated to this task. BUT I’m training and I can’t train people unless another senior person is working with me (or it’s really difficult to) because while training, it takes at least 10 times longer to get the work done than if I was doing it by myself so even with help, I fall behind on my regular tasks and I don’t have time during my regular shift to do my new task the way I think it’s supposed to be done so that means staying an hour-hour & a half past the time I’m done training, which was overtime to begin with. (Why, yes I *am* proud of that run-on sentence…) In a span of about 6 weeks, I went from working 3 hours a day to 7 minimum, which may not seem like a lot to people who work the standard 40 hours a week but for me that’s a lot.

Having said all that, honestly? Mostly I’m having FUN. I’m being CHALLENGED. I imagine this is what it feels like when people who like working out work out. All 3 new hires are personal friends of mine and I thought it was already pretty sweet working with the group I do because we’re all friends outside of work as well. I mean, I’m getting paid to hang out with my friends on Skype all morning in my pajamas and tell them about the job I love WHICH I NEVER GET TO DO WITH ANYONE BUT BLAKE and he only understands like, 75% of what I bother telling him. (Better than the 5% of his job that I understand, however.) Due to the nature of what we do, who we do it for and who we do it with, we’re just supposed to talk about our jobs as little as possible outside of the company which suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks because our jobs are ridiculously interesting (to me), so it’s awesome to finally be able to be like “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! PORNO PORNO PORNO!!! XXX!!!” while listening to 80s & 90s rap at 9am. (That is the soundtrack of Sunny’s Porn School.)

My work day still starts at 5am though and doesn’t usually “end” (*cough*at all*cough*) now until, well, 2:30pm for me today. And to compensate for having to be “on” and a fully functional cyborg that early, for that long, I’ve been trying to go to sleep around 7:30 or 8pm so right now it feels like all I do is work, talk about work, talk to work friends, hang out at the site I work for and go to sleep tired as fuck, but I guess I’ve done more than that. Not much more, though.

Like I said earlier, we went to a wedding a couple of weeks ago in Militiagan for Blake’s cousin Helena and fiance Bill, which isn’t his real name. His real name is something super Albanian and unpronounceable so I guess they just call him Bill. They’ve known each other since they were 14 and now they’re 30, so that’s sort of cool. The ceremony was crazy religious and almost entirely sung. There was incense involved, which the priest did at Blake’s grama’s funeral too and I thought was cool and I tried to get video of it but the priest is actually like, this HUGE conservative guy who frowns upon anything newer than last century and there were a couple of signs saying “no cell phones” but Blake’s Aunt Pat was inconspicuously taking pics beside me with hers so I got a short clip of the dude on Instagram but not what I wanted. Oh well, so not the point….anyway, during the ceremony they blessed this and that and the President (no shit) three times, in English AND Albanian, all while singing a call and return with the priest and some lady and his incense shaker had bells on it and made clanging sounds and the whole thing seemed to me like he was trying to get God’s attention for a sec and get him to bless the marriage. There was some heavy old school bare foot and pregnant shit in the vows, but what I noticed in the ceremony is that the priest STARTED with, “do you take this man to be your…?” etc and they did their “I do’s” FIRST so everything after that they technically didn’t agree to in any legally binding way (not that a wedding is “legally” binding, but y’know, if this was a deal with the Devil they could get out of it on a technicality by traditional mythological standards).

I’m not going to post what I wore because I think I looked like crap. I also think me and Blake’s step-monster were the only blondes at the whole event.

At the reception, we got sat at the “cousin table” (and not with Blake’s dad and his bitchfaced wife, who got stuck sitting beside the priest all night heh) and I got to meet all of Blake’s Albanian cousins who have all grown up and have since left Albania for greater things, I guess. Blake’s cousin Shirley is a dentist living with a dude named Stiig who’s an engineer for Rolls Royce in Norway. Blake’s cousin Nonda and his wife Eva live in NY and have two little kids. They met in Albania and came over a while ago. Blake’s cousin Livvy is like, an international free spirit party girl type who lives somewhere in Europe too but I forget where. I wanna say Prague? Not sure.

What kills me about Blake’s Albanian family is like HOW into family they are. It’s so weird to me because my family isn’t like that at all. It’s hard to explain, but like, Blake just met these people for the first time since he went to Albania when I think he was 18 and they were weirdly close considering I’d never heard of these people before that day and I’m pretty sure this was only Blake’s second time meeting them in person. I’m pretty sure you could ask a favour from practically anyone in the room and they would oblige just because you were related and vice versa. There was a lot of hugging and picture taking like, with people who barely knew each other but they were related so HEY LET’S TAKE A PICTURE! NOW LET’S TAKE THE EXACT SAME PICTURE WITH 5 MORE CAMERAS FROM 5 MORE STRANGERS! It was weeeeeeeeeeeeeeird, man. Weird. It was the biggest display of pronoia in action I think I’ve ever seen. Just a whole lotta people conspiring toward good things for a whole lotta other people simply because they’re related somehow.

My family is more…strategic, political, hostile, a little phony and now, extremely small. Almost non-existent. And I don’t foresee that changing any time soon. God, honestly I’m not even sure I have the energy to have it any other way, so whatever. I haven’t talked to my brother since my grama’s funeral because I don’t know what to say to him. I’ve exchanged 2 e-mails with my mom, pretty much the same thing.

At the end of the wedding, there was a coney bar set up because when Blake’s grampa came to America, he opened a coney dog restaurant called George’s Famous Coney Island and this restaurant was the foundation for just about everything in that ballroom. I thought that was pretty neat even though we left before it got set up.

Other than that, the only thing I have to report is that I broke down and bought Sims 4 even though I had initially decided not to get it because I’d heard nothing but bad things about what WASN’T going to be included, but I was bored and I’m a sucker so I downloaded it and while I’ve only had a chance to play it three times, I think I like it. It’s VERY bare bones, a lot like OG Sims, and I kinda like that because the complexity of Sims 3 got so ridiculous with all the expansions that I lost interest in it a long time ago. The emotions system combines with the Sims’ needs, so for example, if my Sim is angry or tense (emotion) AND has to go to the bathroom (need), the interaction “take an angry poop” appears. “Wants” contribute to emotions. Anyway, I’m having fun with it so far and I have high hopes for future expansions.

Annnnnd I’m tired and have to go to bed soooooo peace oot. *yawn*

July 14, 2014

People are strange, when you’re a stranger…

Thursday was my grama’s funeral. Wait, lemme back up.

Last Friday my mom called Blake and told him that my grama was going to pass either that evening or in the morning and that she didn’t need me there. Somewhere in the communication, I was told it was okay to go though, and I decided I did want to and I wanted my brother to come with me because whether or not my mom needed him, I was pretty sure I did. My Aunt Sandra and her husband John (who is my uncle obviously, but I’ve never called him “Uncle John”, so he’s always just been “John”) were there, along with my Aunt Betty. I hadn’t seen my Aunt Sandra or John in a really long time so I had no idea how that would go and my brain was pinging like crazy with like, PTSD type shit about my grama being on her deathbed in a hospital the same week I’d already been pinging because there is still some traumatic residue from being on my own deathbed 3 years prior. And obviously there’s just the scariness of death and the fact that this would be THE absolute last time I saw my grama ever in my life and she would not be the same lady I hung out with a couple of months ago on her last birthday.

I forget why but my mom texted me from HER finance John’s phone (yep, I’m gonna confuse you with 2 Johns; let’s call them M’John and S’John for “mom’s John” and “Sandra’s John” unless you can think of anything better) as she doesn’t have a phone of her own and she told me that I shouldn’t come to the hospital but lady, I just got out of the shower soooooo too late! If I had a WHOLE SHOWER, it’s serious business. I told her that I had a lot of things in my head from when I was sick that I would rather replace with something more like love and she said that she wanted my last memories of my grama to be spending the day with her on her birthday and I told her I’ll remember what I wanted to remember. And I didn’t say this to HER at the time because it wasn’t the time, but I didn’t want the first death I face as an adult head on to be HERS and my grama’s situation seemed pretty unscary by all accounts. (I was told she was sleeping.) So my mom said okay and I told her that Chad was coming with me and she said okay and by that time Blake had gotten home from work so we left to pick my brother up in Toronto.

To give my family privacy, I won’t describe the scene at the hospital despite really really wanting to. What I will say was that my grama really was just sleeping and she seemed peaceful (but not dreaming) and as things came to me about my own stay in the hospital, I asked my mom questions. For example, my grama was wearing an oxygen mask and I wondered if it was the same kind as I had when I was at St. Mike’s and as it turned out, I had multiple masks, breathing tubes and the trache which just lead to more questions but I didn’t want to bombard my mom completely. My Aunt Sandra and S’John and Aunt Betty left the room and my mom asked Blake, my brother and me if we wanted to say goodbye to my grama. I declined. My brother held her hand and said he thought his goodbye to her. Blake held her shoulder and told her not to worry because he’d always take care of me and the kids. She did not respond to either of them. I declined specifically because I didn’t want her to hear my voice and stay longer than she needed to because it was familiar and because our last conversation in May went like this:

{hugging}
Grama, raspy, breathless voice, crying and like, legit concerned:
Don’t even forget about me, Sarah.
Me, sort of stunned that she thought I *could*, whisper in her ear:
I could neeeeever. I love you. Thank you for everything.
Grama, crying harder:
You’re welcome, you’re welcome.

…and nothing at a hospital could replace that goodbye, for me, we said it. That was it. And this is what she looked like, wearing the birthday tiara I brought for her that day:

That day I brought her a trillium from the forest that I’d dug up the day before because it was kind of a thing between us:

Anyway, she died Saturday, around noon and like, everything between that moment and Thursday is basically one big giant blur of unadulterated panic because I would be seeing certain people for the first time in about a decade and I wasn’t sure who exactly or how they would be to me, but I did know my molester would be there. The one I’d said I’d forgiven but I guess that was just a lie I told myself to try and make it through the funeral because if it were true, I wouldn’t have been freaking out so fucking hard about just looking at him and being triggered. Blake promised me he wouldn’t be an issue. I decided to believe him because I didn’t see that I had any other choice.

Molester sat in the pew behind me, right behind my brother who knows nothing of this whole thing because we’d be in danger of having to bury two people that day if he knew. I just saw his oh-so-familiar profile out of the corner of my eye, pointed him out to Blake and then the funeral started. (Which was super traditional for our family and at a funeral home, not the “simple” graveside service I was expecting.)

When the priest lady or whatever she was, was done her funeral stuff and we were to exit into the salon rooms for food, they went from the front row back and I was in the second row. Blake switched spots with me and I didn’t really understand why, but he told me afterward that with the way it looked like the rows were exiting, molester would have been right behind me if Blake didn’t switch with me. So. Close call. Also I guess when I stopped before entering the salon rooms, Blake said it looked like molester was going to approach me so Blake stood between me and his line of sight.

I have never felt so out of body in my whole life than at this funeral. I was so completely unaware of my surroundings and who was around me. I just trusted Blake. I mostly spent the time eating sandwiches or looking at my shoes in the rectory area rather than deal with people in the salon rooms.

My Aunt Judy, her husband Uncle Clare and her brother, my Uncle Don were there, which I thought was sort of weird. My Aunt Judy lives pretty far away and they’re both from my grampa’s side of the family. My grama and grampa were long divorced before he died 11 years ago. I dunno, I guess it’s not weird, but I just wasn’t expecting them. I hadn’t seen either of them since my great grama Crittenden’s funeral and it was good to see them because I really like them both. I saw my cousin Terri was there (also my grampa’s side of the family) but I didn’t talk to her.

Near the end, we were about to leave and my molester’s brother started talking to Blake. I looked at my shoes because up until that moment, I thought my grama had told him what his brother had done to me and that’s why he was mean to me the last time we spoke. Then I heard, “Elmvale, eh? Near Wasaga Beach? Well maybe I’ll drop by sometime,” and I think my eyes probably got as big as saucers because the way he was talking sounded like my grama – despite all her threats and lies to the contrary – took my “secret” to her grave. Which is a very good thing.

After I got home from the funeral, I looked at Facebook and my cousin Cory (also grampa’s side, my Uncle Don’s son, around my age) reached out to me and sent his sympathies about my grama. I thanked him and said it was good to see his dad because I’ve always liked him and we both agreed that we should have some family time under better circumstances.

Then I was still confused about some things, so after I got my funeral clothes off and we’d been home for a little while, we got in the car and started heading in the direction of my mom’s, where we stayed and chatted for a  few hours and certain things about our family were…illuminated, and now I find myself wondering who my family is right now. Like, after this it feels like it might be bigger than I previously thought. For example, my Aunt Judy totally confessed to Facebook stalking me on a regular basis like a total creeper even though she “doesn’t use Facebook” haha That is SO my Aunt Judy, who I love to death, and who I would absolutely love to spend more time with.

I thought that when my grama died the family would fall apart, but from where I’m sitting now, it looks like my bubble at least, might be getting a little bigger.

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.

January 12, 2014

…And Then Ya Die.

So yesterday was Blake’s 40th birthday and I’m now officially married to a dirty old man. I’m going to be 35 on March 1st and I don’t know how I feel about that. I also like to think I’m going to be okay with 40 because I see 40 as this totally positive thing (for women, anyway: you’re almost done parenting children, you’re almost done having periods, you have more money and every year you give less fucks!) but the reality is I’ll probably be an absolute wreck. I dunno, 40 year old ladies, tell me about when you turned 40. I don’t even know what’s “supposed” to happen. I didn’t really see my mom turn 40. It snuck up on me and I wasn’t there for the actual birthday. She took 50 pretty well and I think after that you’re just fine with birthdays and wanna party and celebrate yourself every decade/5 years cuz you’re not dead! Or at least that’s how I figure it *should* be.

My mom e-mailed me on Thursday with a grama update. She’s doing another round of chemo, but this is a different kind than before in that it doesn’t have any side effects. Her main doctor says that with this treatment she’ll see spring and since my cousin informed me that my grama has a graveside service planned, I would like to thank all the gods and the new. Everyone I can think of who I’ve known that has died, has done so in the winter (with two exceptions) and they all had the decency to plan indoor funeral services without the actual burial part. (I’m being sarcastic, before my family crucifies me…sort of…) Funerals are miserable enough, but who wants to be standing in the cold and snow (and maybe even worse), sniffing and snorting and crying? Um, not me thanks. And it’s not to say she won’t die tomorrow and we’ll all have to suffer through a winter burial service anyway, I’m just throwin’ a few “Hail Satan”s that science and medicine have/will give my grama more time with her friends and family and to die in a better season, not just selfishly but in winter you’re never REALLY warm no matter how warm you are (okay maybe if you were in a sauna) and maybe this is just my preference, but I would rather die warm and cozy in my own bed with a window open and a breeze and birdies than this:

Okay that doesn’t look that bad maybe, but that was early in the morning before the real storm started…all I’m saying is that if my grama had have died this week, we probably wouldn’t have been able to go to her last hurrah. Like, how do you postpone a funeral due to weather? How do you postpone grieving?

Spring’s better.

And who knows, maybe there’s a contingency plan for if she dies in the winter and it’s a totally different plan. They did say last year that she’d only see spring and summer of 2013 so that’s probably what she was planning for and since they’re now saying spring 2014 because of this new radiation, there’s probably no reason to change the plan.

I do think winter is ideal for mourners as far as people dying though, because then the spring comes, grief lifts (at least a little bit) and it’s like life starts again. I’m only saying it sucks for the person dying and the mourners if there’s a graveside service, which are all temporary things anyway. Grief is a little different. It’s like an animal that lives in the pit of your stomach. But that’s a whole other post.

Anyway, that’s enough morbidity out of me today.

My brother messaged me around 11 o’clock last night to say that he was just getting home from the Raptors game we got him tickets for for Xmas, that he had a good time and we won and to thank us again. I asked him who he took and he said his dad, to which I said good, glad he got a night out. Which is true. I may not speak to the guy and haven’t done so in almost a decade and I may have a major grudge still, but I think I’ll always love him. He was the first dad I knew. The only dad I knew for most of my childhood and really? Honestly? The only dad that ever really mattered. And now I just don’t have a dad and I’m okay with that. Anyway, even when he was my dad, he would rarely do anything for himself like go to a Raptors game and the guy’s perpetually burnt out and sickly and old and a sad sack who hasn’t had sex in like, at least 11 years my brother and I figure, so like I told my brother in his Xmas card, if he wanted to give his dad a night out even though the man would rather spit on me than say “hello”, that was okay by me. (Not that he needed my permission, the tix were a gift, I just wanted him to know that he didn’t have to hide it from me and it wouldn’t be a point of contention since I figured that’s who he’d take anyway.)

Blake and Wes just got home from Wes’ first swimming lesson and apparently they spun out on the road and hit a snowbank on their way there. Apparently damage to the bumper but I haven’t gone out and looked. Glad they’re okay obviously. That shit freaks me out.

Okay I think I’m gonna go do my December webcam round-up post and then see what Blake’s plans for the day are.

December 30, 2013

Oh, Carolina what you been fed?

Above is “Raspberry” by Grouplove, as recommended by Alex and Ronny during our friend post-Xmas/pre-2014 party yesterday. Ronny said he was reading something about them or about the album (Spreading Rumours, downloading now…) where the writer said they made the best Pixies song of the last 20 years. I couldn’t agree more. The Pixies are currently touring without Kim and have new material created without Kim and I’m sorry but no Kim, no deal. Pun intended! I listened to the first song they released without her but I thought it was garbage so I never bothered with the rest of it.

In other Pixies news, I Kickstarted a big Pixies coffee table book for Blake for Xmas like, almost a year ago now? And they said they’d deliver by Xmas but like, 3 or 4 days before Xmas, they sent out an e-mail saying “sorry, not until February…” and I was like, “GEE, THANKS FOR TELLING ME THAT A FEW DAYS BEFORE XMAS” because I only got Blake 2 things and that was one of them and it’s not easy for me to get out and get something else, also I don’t exactly have money to buy more things so that was a bummer.

I also Kickstarted the game “Stonehearth” because I thought Wes would like it and their delivery date for beta was supposed to be December 1st but they e-mailed and said they weren’t ready and that instead they were going to release “alpha 1” version of the game that is super bare bones and glitchy and you can’t save your game I think on Xmas Day. I haven’t bothered to download it yet because…

…for Xmas I got the 2 newest Sims expansions so now I have ultimate power!!!!!! (For someone who refuses to play with mods or custom content created outside the Sims Exchange.) I’ve spent the last 5 days creating my family and building my house. I’m about halfway finished the latter.

Xmas was good, everyone liked their presents and we had turkey and stuffing. Actually, Xmas Day, ALL I had was stuffing for dinner, then later on I had a turkey sandwich. The next day, Boxing Day, we went to my mom’s with my brother and there was a super creepy moment there where John and I said the same random thing at the exact same time, “this ham has the texture of cat food” and it was like we were one. My mother just about had kittens, it was so funny.

I talked to my brother a lot about his girlfriend. They’ve been together for 9 months, met on a dating site, she’s THIRTY (he’s 28 ooooooooooooh la la), she’s Croatian and then at the end of the night when we dropped my brother off, I got to meet her. She’s a giant! But then again so is my brother so that’s probably good. Anyway, she seemed alright in the 20 seconds I said “hi” and “bye”. In that 20 seconds I could tell she was leagues more mature than my brother, also good.

I am SO grateful that my coworker could fill in for my mornings on Boxing Day and Friday because Boxing Day was an early morning with having to pick my brother up (and we were running about 2 hours early because Blake and I had a miscommunication) and a late night for the same reason, so I would have been useless at 5am Friday morning for work.

Not doing anything for New Year’s Eve because I never do and I have to work in the morning BUT the Winter Classic game is in the afternoon so that’s definitely in the cards. Speaking of cards, Wes is like, a Cards Against Humanity savant. This was one of his contributions last night. He’s TEN.

I made my mom a painting for Xmas but it wasn’t finished until late Xmas night so I didn’t have an opportunity to take pics of it. Well, good pics anyway. I wasn’t happy with how it turned out but she liked it and that’s all that matters. In the new year I’m going to post what I made my Secret Satan but I think she’s going to be in high demand so I’m not going to post her until I have prints etc. set up in my Zazzle shop, pending the pics I took before I shipped her off to the US are good enough.

So yeah. Happy New Year if I don’t post before then!

December 24, 2013

Sounds of laughter, shades of life…

I guess I’ll start in order of things happening, although honestly I’m a little foggy on when I was told what, specifically, but that’s neither here nor there I guess.

Saturday night was Blake’s work Xmas party and I had taken the day off work to get my shit together, get there, stay there and come home in one piece. Well, I was successful. The theme of the party was “black & white” so I wore what I wore to Blake’s grama’s funeral and probably what I’ll wear to my grama’s funeral (in a weird coincidence…), which was a black tulle skirt with a black tulle flowy Free People-y dress/top thing, fishnets, Docs. Oh and I wore a floor length hoodie over top because it’s winter and I don’t care how well heated a building may be, I’m probably going to be cold.

Right before we left, Blake said something like, “your grama fell last night and she’s in the hospital, but she’s okay” and well, she has brain tumours so it’s obvious why she fell but what does that mean? But since it didn’t seem immediate, I just kept getting ready and figured my mom would tell me the next day that my grama broke her hip or something “not serious”.

The party was okay. We hung out with our friends Charissa and Gary, which was cool. A bunch of people came up to Blake and he introduced me to them but I couldn’t tell you what a single one’s name was or even what they looked like. I just smiled and nodded and played with my phone (which, Blake’s work being a telecomm, was perfectly okay). The food was not my thing. They started us with squash soup (barf) and salad that both looked and smelled weird so I didn’t eat that either. The main course was a small steak with fake grill marks (which I ate) and a piece of chicken that Blake says comes from some frozen food company (did not eat). And roast potatoes (did eat) and green beans (didn’t eat). Dessert was a chocolate mousse and/or cheesecake thing that I tried to like but it was just texturally weird so I left most of it on my plate. There were prizes. Charissa won a phone (all I know is that it’s Android, whereas she’s a Blackberry holdout)  and Blake won a stuffed panda to add to my collection. His work has animal mascots that swap out every now and then and right now it’s pandas, probably trying to capitalize on the fact that The Toronto Zoo has two brand new ones. Anyway, I have most, if not all of the mascot plushies, from the last 8 years. So that was cool. There were also light-up fake ice cubes at each of our place settings with the name of the party on them. After dessert, they announced dancing was going to start and as if on cue fucking Blurred Lines came on, which was funny because I told Blake earlier that week that I bet I’d hear it at LEAST once while we were there and it was the first thing the DJ played. Hilarious. That was our cue to exit so we left and came home.

On Sunday I think John texted Blake or there was some sort of silent communication that it was okay to tell me that my grama had fallen because one of the tumours in her brain had started bleeding and that she was at St. Mike’s, the big scary Toronto hospital, the ICU of which I spent a month in, having undergone brain surgery to fix the bleed. The finer details I found out yesterday from my mom in an e-mail. I guess my grama fell and pressed her Life Alert button to get help, so it’s a g0od thing she had that or who knows what might have happened.

After surgery she was in the ICU but could remember her name and the answers to all the questions they asked her so she was a-okay. Still has terminal brain and lung cancer, but isn’t going to die of a slow brain bleed at this stage of the game. So that’s good. And my mom just e-mailed me to say that my grama’s being moved to the less scary hospital closer to home so while she won’t be out for Christmas, she’ll be more easily accessible by everyone she’d normally spend Christmas with.

Last week or the week before when Blake, my mom and I were hashing out plans to get together for “Christmas” (which is happening on Boxing Day, just as it has been for most of my life), I asked my mom if she had invited my brother and his girlfriend and she casually mentioned that my brother had not been replying to her e-mails but that they were both invited if I wanted to ask them.

MINEFIELD!

So I hummed and hawed and dragged my feet and had started a conversation with my brother about random things last week but I was sort of dancing around the whole Christmas conversation because if he’s not answering my mom’s e-mails (and based on some things he said to me a few weeks ago), then I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever it is he’s mad at her for this time. Things are going good between me and my brother so I didn’t exactly want to rock what can often be an extremely volatile boat! But yesterday my mom e-mailed my brother about my grama with the subject line “important” and cc’d me on it, so I texted him to check his e-mail. He went into action mode and asked what he could do.

I don’t know what my mom answered (she doesn’t “reply all”, which is super annoying but you get used to it) but that’s when I asked him via text if he and his girlfriend wanted to come to mom’s on Boxing Day if we picked him up and brought him home. He waited a while before he replied and he wanted to make sure it was not an inconvenience. LOL We live 2 hours away from both him AND our mom and our car can only sit 5 people including the driver and we’re 4, so no, not an inconvenience AT ALL, Chad…but no, I promised him it wasn’t a problem and that Blake had made the offer ages ago (which is true and my brother and I had talked about in like, Sept.) and it was all good. So he said that he would be coming but that his girlfriend had to work. I felt like I’d won a marathon. I was totally expecting him to go off on me about our mother about whatever was eating him to not reply to her e-mails but he didn’t and he was gonna set aside his shit so we could all support my mom while her mom’s in the hospital having her last Christmas, so that was awesome.

The only thing I was worried about was the fact that I have to work tomorrow, Boxing Day and the next day, which would have been fine if it was just us, but with picking my brother up and dropping him off, we’re adding 4 extra hours onto the day. BUT! Since I worked Black Friday and will be working tomorrow morning for her, a coworker has agreed to do my mornings Boxing Day and Friday so we can start earlier and end later. Hooray! Total life saver!

Then on Sunday we’re having “friend Xmas” with Ronny, Alex, Deanna, her boyfriend Bradley and Madison’s girlfriend Ramona whom I don’t know at all. Much Cards Against Humanity will be played. Pizza will probably be eaten (unless Madison and I can find anything worth making on the Pinterests before then). Drinks will probably be had by those in the room who brought them.

And THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN on New Year’s Day it’s the Winter Classic game between Toronto (yay!) and Detroit (also yay! but also booooo!) and I got myself a fancy Winter Classic jersey with part of my Xmas bonus just for the occasion. After I’m finished writing this post, I intend to write Ronny and Alex an e-mail inviting them over to watch the game. Ronny’s from Militiagan, he’s got a horse in this race. Blake’s from Militiagan too but loving the Leafs was just part of our vows and that is whose jersey he shall be sporting on the day of the big event. Truthfully though, I really like Detroit and always have so while I obviously want our team to win, honestly it’s just cool to be playing each other on New Year’s Day in an outdoor venue. I am fucking stoked.

And I think that’s probably all I got in me for the time being. I hope everyone who celebrates has a Merry Christmas tomorrow and to everyone else, enjoy your movie and Chinese food!

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!

November 12, 2013

The Trophy Wives of the Astronauts

This is awesome:

In other music news, I downloaded M.I.A.’s latest effort yesterday and sat with it until this afternoon, and I can’t say as a whole I like it all that much. “Bad Girls” is a good song but it’s pretty old by now and it’s been in TV shows (The Mindy Project comes to mind) and it’s just been on my playlist for long enough to almost be annoying. (Almost.) Only “Matangi”, the title track, and “Double Bubble Trouble” made it into regular rotation. That’s what I took away from it. As a whole it was just not my thing but since I’m sick of everything else I have, I’ll probably listen to it in the mornings while I’m working.

Work today was interesting because I worked my shift, slept for 2 hours, then worked someone else’s shift. By the end of it I didn’t know what to do with myself. Normally I have an issue doing anything fun because I haven’t been productive enough but today I was SO productive that I couldn’t think of anything fun that would be equivalent to it so I just hung out at Camwhores and then the kids came home and now I’m writing this in the time it takes Blake to get from his office in the city to the grocery store to home.

Madison left these pictures in frames on my desk this morning with a note saying that she found them in a cupboard and “doesn’t grama look SO young! (and I guess I do too! :oP)” so while I was chatting on Camwhores, I was taking pictures of the pictures because I couldn’t get the scanner to work. Then I posted  them on Facebook and my brother said he’s going to text me with more pics that are apparently of us from when we went to the cottage. I haven’t seen these so I’m a little excited. :oD

This is five generations of Crittendens.
My great grama Crittenden, her son (my grampa), mom, me & Chad, Madison.
There’s another version of this with us all sticking out our tongues but I can’t find my copy.

This is obviously my brother and me.
Probably circa 1998 (same as the pic above) judging by the hat.

Anyway, I’d forgotten about these pics so I was happy Madison had found them. Why she was looking in the cupboard where there were is a mystery but my money’s on looking for Xmas presents…

The only other thing really happening in my life is Project A and Project B.

Project A is my Secret Satan present, which obviously I can’t post about because it’s SECRET.

Project B is probably going to end up being an Xmas present so I can’t post about that either because the person it’s for is probably reading this.

I mean, other than that, I work, I sleep, I spend my mornings on Camwhores, I make things all day; Blake comes home, we make food, we watch Sam & Dean (I think we’re in the middle of season 7 right now), I go to bed. Repeat. That is more or less life right now.

I took pics of Madison, at her request, last week or the week before and they’re still on the camera. I want to take pics of her with her hair how it is right now because it’s super dyed right now. Maybe tomorrow, it’s almost dark right now.

So yeah…I’ll edit those and post them when I get around to it. PEACE.

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.)

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