Les Amours Imaginaire

Translation: Heartbeats? Sigh. Quebec must think anglos are retarded. Well, Quebec: you have scabies. Translation: vous avez grossi.

Midnight Pilgrimage to Waffle Iron

My parents raised me poorly: I've been to church formally about five times. And those times I've gone I've done it all wrong. Once I even stole (on purpose) a granola bar from a church in PEI which, on the sin-o-meter I suspect negates my "approximately five" and "14 future" church visits. I'm pretty sure beside my name is a big evil frowny face. In red.

Sometimes I try. ish. Like midnight mass on Christmas Eve. I've attempted to go three years in a row, admittedly mostly out of sheer curiosity (what DO they DO and at Midnight no less?). All individually fails if the goal is to be there the entire time and pay attention and pray and give thanks. and stuff. Collectively, however, they might count for something.

1. xmas 2008. Accompaniment: German brother-in-law. Reason for fail: five minutes in, The German had to leave. Religion did not agree with him. Made his eyes burn and have 'ants in his pants.'

Portion of mass witnessed: incense, fake baby jesus, singing.

2. xmas 2009. Accompaniment: Sister # 2. Reason for fail: a) we arrived at midnight and the mass was OVER b) I was sporting the 'leper' look, being within 24 hours of having my face laser-burned off. I seriously thought I'd add to the ambiance. I was hoping for some pity. At least.

Portion of mass witnessed: everyone leaving and trying to not awkwardly stare at me for too long.

3. xmas 2010, tonight. Accompaniment: solo. Reason for fail: no intention of going. Except that at approximately 11:45 pm I remembered "shit fuck! my waffle iron at the lab, must fetch it for the morn, when thee shall make thine waffles to which thee shall top with spray whipped cream!" This is how I talk at christmas time. So I pilgrimaged. All the way across the park and into a creepy empty building. I was frightened. Of ghosts. No seriously, I'm not joking. I nearly fainted three times from my own shadow. I practically ran out of there screaming and crying like a girl. Waffle iron in hand, my holy shrine for thine waffles, and a fresh lease on life, I left the building, just as an ambulance rushed by with lights blazing. And I thought (because I'm a sick fucko): if only it was going to the church now that would make an awesome mass! I mean, maybe there is a real live re-enactment of the birth of christ. Or the christmas eve sacrifice-ee escaped just maimed instead of 100% killed! It was a sign. I was headed to mass! And sure enough, when I rounded the corner, there was the ambulance outside the church. Oh lucky day!

Portion of mass witnessed: If there is anything I do well, it's loiter and gawk. So I put my god given skills to work and watched the ambulance crew load up a sinner and take her away! I'd never seen that part of the service before. But I liked it!

I'm slowly piecing this "midnight mass service" together. But it's a tricky bastard and I need a few more tries. It's good to have goals. Especially in the name of redemption.

Nazareth

I was driving the VW two days ago and the Nazareth song "hair of the dog" came on the radio. It felt like Christmas. Mostly because in my mind Nazareth means Jesus in hebrew. If that sentence doesn't make sense to you, I'm sorry. Welcome to what being me is like: completely and unabashedly made-up.

Nazareth, and this song especially, have a special place in my history. Despite what my cousin Heather may say, I didn't listen to Nazareth by choice as a teen (ahem, GnR and others I've accidently forgotten and I swear not because I'm ashamed). Hilariously, it was the only cassette tape my bus driver had. Obviously, if you have a boom box, anything is better than radio silence. I mean, did anyone carry a stereo on their shoulders and not play music? pshh. Where I lived in the late 80's everyone was poor and no one had walkmans so people often graced us with their own double-cassette decks (fucking rich kids) and tastes of music for our trips to school. At some point our 'fancy school bus' got outfitted with a 'stereo system.' I rode the bus for two hours nearly everyday of my life until I was 18 years old. From c1989 to c1992 I did it while listening to Nazareth. That was 2 hours of Nazareth a day for three years. On repeat. Ironically the few words I can remember include "my white bycicle," "love hurts...." and "now you're messing with a Son of a Bitch." Jerks couldn't enunciate worth a damn.

So Nazareth is a Jesus band that has written a song based on my grandfather. Have you met Pop? The chorus of the "hair of the dog" song is his anthem and he doesn't even know. And while I accelerated through intersections and sang like I knew the lyrics "and now your messin' with a, son of a, now your messin' with a sonofabitch" I thought, that's right: I'm a jesus sonofabitch gonna have a killer christmas while I go to toys R us to buy Lew a school bus!

Which ties this whole nonsense together. When asked "hey Lew, what do you want to ask Santa for Christmas?" four-year-old Lewis says "A school bus!"

Jesus.

Merry Christmas, Ya son of a bitch.

Christmas Came Early

Thursday, five minutes before we were to head to school. The doorbell rang. Lewis opened up and a river of barf and runny pooh flowed into our lives.

Yes. Welcome Highly Contagious Stomach Flu Xmas 2010.

There are five of us. Each day claims a new victim. Number four just went down. I’m the only one left. I’m terrified. I’m hiding under blankies in the dark, sipping vodka and misting the air with sanitizer.

And I don’t feel well.

What will happen next?

UPDATE: I almost pooped myself to death. I bet you're glad you know that.

New beat

I'm a recovering deadbeat blogger.

A recent facebook drop-out.

An ex-cell phone user.

A woman with a fresh diagnosis of ADD and a pocket full of speed.

I've been cut up and sewn up.

Invested in an arctic parka

and a VW.

Got addicted to vitamin water.

Reading.

And baths.

Quit some stuff.

Failed some stuff.

Had some fun.

Forgot the camera.

Scissoring

There are many things in the world. Many amazing things: the grand canyon, the blue sky, the apple. And my four year old and his persistent capacity to get into stuff. Stuff that's dangerous. Stuff that's none of his business. Like yesterday when he presented himself and his 'new hair cut.' Upon investigation it was discovered that he had "scissored" everything he possibly could in the bathroom and, left with no other option, scissored himself (and his hair). At least I find the verb "to scissor" hysterically funny. It's all I've got left.

And it was Just Like This

REALLY. With some of THIS.

NYC

And then I went to NYC to celebrate this woman. NYC Likes: how the metro randomly goes 'express' and starts missing stops; the Yankees; everything.

Side Projects

Friday, Sept 10th, 2010: Roller Derby comes to K-Town. Fame ensues.

Grand Canyon

There is something refreshing about danger. At the Grand Canyon there are no fences. Nothing to keep the people safe from themselves. And I like that.

In Line

"What do you do while I'm gone?"

"Wait for you to come back."

Welcome. Come In.

On arrival to Burning Man: A full double rainbow. And someone shouted: What does it mean? Apparently a 6 hour wait.

Current Kick

These days.

the telephone

Strange things have been happening on my telephone:

Strange thing#1

the message went like this:

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss...you're an idiot....ssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Strange thing #2.

4:15 am telephone rings:

sssssssssssss...I love you.ssssss....don't hang up...do you have a boyfriend? want to be my boyfriend? haahahahahaah..CLICK

_______________________________

I think it's God.

This is not Portland OR

After a 45 min argument of this:

Lew: I want to ride my bike!

Me: You have to put on underwear.

Lew: I want to ride my bike!

Me: You have to wear underwear

Lew: I want to ride my BIIIKKKEEE!

ME: But you have to put on underwear!!

Lew: I'm going to ride my bike.

Me: not if you don't have underwear.

Lew: I WANT TO RIDE MY BIKE!

Me: then go get your underwear.

Lew: But I want to ride my bike.

Me: And I want you to wear underwear.

times 40 million (I wish this was an exaggeration).

Later that day he did get out to ride his bike, without underwear. And a little old lady stopped to talk with him. I hid behind the curtains.

Summer

Water-gun terrace terrorists.

The Future

After an evening of being aggressively chased by cute eight-year-old girls:

Duncan: "One of these days, you'll have to let those girls catch you"

Dex: "Yeah, but not at my age."

Yes. Please wait until you're at least 20.

Things Found

We told the kids it fell from the sky but I found it late one night on the curb. What to do with an old claw foot tub? I'm sure I'll figure it out.

Hello Four. Welcome.

Saturday, June 26th, 2010: Lew turns four. Toilette trains. Continues acts of public nudity.

(Current foot wear favorite: hightop pumas; still a little rough on how to pull off underwear)

Things Found

End of school year cleaning out of 8 year-old's bag:

1 Report Card (As and A+s)

1 shot gun shell

1 homemade Shiv.

It's always someone's birthday

Somewhere.

I'll take it where I can get it.

Boy Kid: "Hey Dex, is that your new babysitter?"

(pointing to me)

Dex: "no! that's my Mom."

Compliment?

Sometimes I hate breakfast

Neville: "Lewis is staring at me!! Whhaaa! Make him stop!"

Lewis: "Neville, hey Neville! I'm staring at you! Look at me Neville, I'm staring at YOU!"

Neville: "STOP STARING AT ME!"

Lewis: "haha still staring!"

Me: "THAT'S IT! From now on we will be eating our breakfast with our eyes closed!!"

Doing stuff is overrated.

Today I ran 8 km in 39:26, placed ninth in my age group, did it in the pouring rain, without music or someone to talk with, almost no training (one to two 6 km runs a week don't really count) and about four day's notice (just how I like to do things). All to just scratch "running a race" off my "bucket list." I thought about waffles the whole time. They are cooking now.

It's a fucking miracle.

Lew pooped and peed on the toilette. He'll be four in about three weeks.

Could this be the end of diapers for me?????

(To be continued...)

Superstitions

See a penny pick it up and all day long you'll have good luck.

See a penny let it lie and bad luck will pass you by.

See a gigantic severed bird talon? .......... I was torn. But I didn't pick it up (but I won't lie: I thought about it). I wonder what will happen next.

Side effects

On my way into roller derby practice I had to walk through a group of men. One, under his breath and as fast as he could spit it out said: "yo-what's-up-baby-doll?" I took it as a compliment.

CURRENT KICK

Canned mushrooms straight from the can.

Revenge

Last Sunday afternoon (one week ago) we went to a BBQ. Approximately 2.5 hours after arrival, after our kids had made-out intensely with other people's germs, we learned that one of the hosts' children was down with a fever. At the time I told the male partner: "if my kids get sick, I'm going to TP your house." I was not joking and figured it was adequate revenge for not warning me they had some variant of the fucking black plague (I would have turned down the invitation and firebombed their house). Gauging by childhood illness incubation times, at least one of my kids would fall ill mid week, banning them from school for a day or worse, from daycare for two, and completely fucking up the lives of their adult caregivers.

The suspense is likely too much....

Wendesday night: Child comes down with fever.

Friday, out drinking and carousing after work, happen across male keeper of viral vector. Wag my finger at him and say "I'm going to get you! You fucker." Him: "whatever, I'm doing you a favour, educating your child's immune system!" Me: "I'm going to TP your house. You better Watch Your Back!"

Today: Child number two comes down with fever. Tomorrow is a school day. Decided to take the revenge up a notch. Here are my options:

a) just TP his car. that will teach him.

b) throw a burning bag of poop at his front door at 3 am (you know, to mimic my sleepless nights due to sick kids).

c) Slash his tires; or at least flatten one.

d) feed him some botchulism.

e) sneakily piss in his beer.

I say D. But you tell me.

Hurties

This is a picture of my bum. After I dragged it on the floor. After I put on roller skates and was challenged to a "race." (who can say no to that?) That blue glowing alien hand is the paramedic cleaning up my ass wound. It stang, okay. And I couldn't stop laughing at all the guy paramedics who refused to even look. It hurt to sit for two days. But it was so worth it. (roller derby = radness and a gigantic love stroke for my ever growing ego.)

Rage 2010

Sneaky Hate Spiral

Guitar Solo

My Rock Band will Sound Like a Rock Band.

(if I don't break myself to death in roller derby)

Notes from Paris

Too bad you still smell like man pee.

Six 6 Six 6

I love you at six.

Aberrant has no H in it

I learned this today. And now I'm super depressed. The main reason I used the word aberrant was because I thought it was mysterious and tricky and kinda hard to say: traits all due to the H. Abherant. So much more sexy and seductive with that slight hhhhhh sound after the b. Now it's just boring old aBBBerrant. Not a challenge at all. And Two Rs? Gross. I am so sad.

I went to a wedding

People wore lampshades: I cried.

I like when he does this

Curling his toes under himself

How to: Make pizza. 9 easy steps

1. take a marathon nap (3+ hours in several locations). Nap so hard try to nap even harder. Realize napping is costing 13 bucks an hour (babysitter). Stop napping.

2. notice pizza crust. start having magical fantasies about pizza. begin looking for pizza ingredients.

3. stare at canned goods for too long. find: 1 can artichoke hearts. go to corner store.

4. find: 1 bag of BBQ chips, I can tomato paste, and one friend standing on the street corner.

5. invite friend in for beer. drink beer. say goodbye to friend. return to pizza.

6. 1 pizza crust, 1 can tomato paste, dash of oregano, 1 small onion, 1 can artichoke hearts, cheese = PIZZA!

7. practice french. drunk text.

8. Pizza is ready!

9. Eat the entire thing. crack open the chips. figure I must have a tapeworm. Yay! tapeworm!

I'm dying

I'm about 90% sure of it. Signs:

1. my eyeballs hurt.

2. my knees hurt.

3. the cat keeps looking at me super creepily. like it knows something.

4. I have an urge to wear earrings. out of the blue.

5. I keep needing to eat. I find this unfair and annoying.

6. when asked how I am I say: "I feel like a concentration camp." It's as bad as it sounds.

7. cookies are not making me feel better

8. it's hard to carry my arms around. I am bored of my arms.

9. sometimes I feel hot. then lukewarm. then hot again.

10. I woke up the other night freaked out because I thought I had killed my hand by staying up too late. Luckily it had just fallen asleep.

11. I plan on filing taxes ahead of time.

Breakfast: so good.

Approximately 6:30 a.m. somewhere in K-town a half-mad woman* jacks the sound system to maximum+1 so she can have coffee in peace. Children run amok.

_________________________

*me

Sometimes things are too funny

1. plan a random trip to paris. random volcano erupts. laugh when all the planes are grounded and airspace around the world is closed down.

2. forget to renew plates on the car. laugh when the owner is pulled over and also has an expired driver's license and insurance.

3. wake up at five:45 a.m. to a savage almost-four-year-old wearing a sagging diaper, a barky stick between his teeth, yelling and grunting like a wild animal.

4. register 62 woman for a roller derby league. with zero knowledge of how to run such a thing. ha. haha. Practice #1: the day I'm supposed to fly to Paris. Plan to have future me figure that shit out.

5. walk home with an arm full of wine and think: I really want to get drunk with myself tonight. proceed to do so. enjoy it. fully. cause really if you can't have a good time hanging out with yourself, what's the point.

Happenings

Dex turns Eight! Personal epiphany: Only old people have eight year olds. To celebrate I introduced Cream Soda to him and his eight friends while they double-fisted cake and cheesies. "It tastes like Heaven!" they exclaimed, with the enthusiasm of a yet-to-be addict's first hit of heroin. I was going to pour it over ice cream and introduce them to "Floats" but I thought I'd save that trick for when Dex turns Nine. Maybe I'll need a walker by then.

Things Found

This! Listen. It's lovely.

On Not Being Jewish

Today I am making Brisket in some sort of homage to Easter. Or Passover. Not sure. Gotta work on this ignorance thing.

Beer. Lawn chair. Pavement. Lew.

Right NOW

Dex is reading aloud to his two brothers and his best friend. I think I feel: Pride. Could be gas.

MIA

When I had resurfaced someone asked: "where the hell have you been?"

The short answer is: here!

Obviously.

But that's no fun. So, What Have I been Up To?

1. doing science: talking science, writing science, planing science, brown nosing with science, getting a little beaten up and raped by science.

2. sleeping: sometime for many hours in a row

3. planning: the first season of roller derby, Paris 2010, Burning Man, what I'm going to wear to other peoples' weddings

4. inventing: working on a "hand-job machine" for less than 50 bucks to give as a gift.

4. socializing (aka, drinking)

5. trying to get my hair cut

6. trying to grow it out long

7. trying not to do anything rash and irrational

8. wondering if lew will EVER FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY be toilet trained. sheesh.

9. Once I was hung over.

10. looking for the perfect pair of jeggings.

11. and sometimes, just hiding.

Today's Motto

All good things must come to an end.

Today

Just spent the last 15 minutes talking about Uranus. And why it's funny. And every time they said it, they laughed. And ended the conversation with Dex: "I'm going to pooto" and Neville "well, I'm going to Uranus." Sigh.

CURRENT KICK

Eating Crumbing stuff in bed. First it was chips. Tonight: crackers. It feels good. Really very good.

Today's Motto

It's alright it's alright it's alright it's alright it's alright it's alright.

1000 sounds of mealtime with children

1. Whining: "I don't like it; Lew is showing his food! I'm not hungry. This is gross. When I grow up I'm going to be a vegetarian!"

2. Asking: as soon as I sit down for "more," a drink, a cloth to clean up hands or a spill.

3. Smacking lips and slurping.

4. Me and my own nagging voice: "sit down! sit still. Eat with your mouth closed. Do I look like your slave? Your legs are not broken. Take your plates to the kitchen if you are done. I hear smacking lips!"

5. Words like Poop. Bum. Fart. Penis.

6. The Cat meowing.

.....X 166.6667.

An Open Letter To Daylight Savings

This happens every year: I get used to waking up at dawn, start to like it even, look forward to continuing doing it, get used to having so much awake time in the mornings to get shit done and then BHAM! You Jerk. You mug me in the night and leave me for dead and I wake up feeling like I've slept in a gutter after having passed out from a brutal beating (although I think my exact words this morning on the telephone with my mother were: "it feels my my head has been kicked in and someone took a shit in my eye." Sorry Mom.). And I never see it coming. Someone told me at 10 pm last night "don't forget, we lose an hour!" and I was all "WHAT? THE? Fuck. Shit. GodDamn!" It takes me around two months for my body to figure out this loss of time. So long barf-free early morning work outs. So long relatively pleasant early morning me. Oh, and the children! I haven't forgotten the children. I just don't want to talk about it. That's it. I'm moving to Saskatchewan.

Conversations

Dumb porn star solves a complex trig problem in response to online fan question:

Amazed, Smart Porn Star says "Wow! You could get a PhD you know."

Dumb porn star responds, "I know. that's why I get tested twice a year."

Dumb porn star leans in close to the camera: "Nobody thinks it can happen to them, but anyone can get a Phd.* Make sure you get tested. Thank you."

_____________________

*here's hoping that's the case.

Confessions

Tonight someone new to my life confessed that for ten years (maybe a few less) they were mildly stalking me. Who knew? Apparently not me (seriously, I've always been a lot oblivious to such things). And since I was born to be a rock star, I was flattered and asked them if we should make out, you know, because I'm so rad. They said no and that it was better when they didn't know me at all and that perhaps I should stop talking altogether cause I'm really killing it for them. Sigh. Oh well, at least I won't need a restraining order.

NEXT

Today my urge to Etsy was suddenly re-ignited. What to make. What to make. And the best part? Remembering when Lew was new.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/Lookitmama

Lew, you're killing me.

Oh third child of mine. You are so cute. And energetic and always hungry (boy! you can eat). And curious! My you are curious. And sometimes, I wish hurricane rhymed with Lew because that is what you are: A little absolutely destructive force of nature. And sneaky. Damn you are sneaking. Why just yesterday while I was meditating with my eyes closed under all the covers in my bed (it's how I concentrate the best!) you methodically and systematically eviscerated the third floor inside of ten minutes. Might have been twenty...hard to say cause time flies when I am trying to achieve enlightenment. And I didn't hear a thing. In fact, I thought you were playing a very quiet game of "learning how to use the potty" or "doing the dishes." Perhaps I also knew better but never mind.

We had to leave the house that day. For several hours. For your own personal safety. And I had to have one (okay okay two) beers in someone else's backyard all before 1 pm (It was Saturday and the sun was shining and there was a trampoline!). It seems you won't be outgrowing this anytime soon. And I'm beginning to understand this is something about you that I Love. A lot. I just have to be a better parent and figure out how to use your talents for good instead of for entropy. Seriously, too bad they don't have March Break camps for international espionage or hire nearly four-year-olds on demolition crews. You'd excel. Kisses!

Conversations

Doctor: "oh, so you took all of your clothes off..."

Me: "um, yeah, I'm here for a physical? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

Doctor: "Except your hat. Why do you still have your hat on? Did you have chemo or something or just a bad hair day?"

Me: "hahahaaaaa. yeah. habit. I always wear my hat because I always have bad hair."

Doctor: "do you do drugs?"

Me: "No?"

Sometimes I really don't make a good first impression.

Just Now

I've made myself breakfast: yummy eggs and toast. I sit down to eat. JUST THEN Lew runs up covered in something: oh my god you're covered in liquid shit! Call for help. Try to return to breakfast. JUST THEN cat runs upstairs and starts barfing right at my feet. Decide to never eat again.

Side effects

Two days in a row of working out 6 a.m. = 5 p.m. hallucinations and asking strange questions like: Who just poured the milk? Was it me? I don't remember. I could have also just been sleeping with my eyes open. Again.

Fight Club

Oh. My. God. So. Tonight I went to my kicking and punching classes but this time, I fought a guy. And he punched me in the face. And I got to punch him in the face (though, he was much better at blocking my jabs so I never REALLY connected). And then he kicked the shit out of me and then I got to kick the shit out of him (um, less so cause I'm smaller and far less experienced). If you look deep into my eyes you will see puppies humping rainbows. I'm that happy. Sore. A little bruised. And kinda questioning my mind. But content.

Questions

There are some questions I hear Everyday, many times a day. Let me share them with you.

1. Is it Friday today? How many days until Friday?

2. Is today March Break? When is March Break?

3. Did you pack my lunch?

4. Where's Daddy? Where's Dexter? Where's Neville?

5. Where are my mittens/hat/boots/blankie/underwear/pants?

6. Can I play?

7. I'm hungry. Can I have some food?

8. Is it time to go to school?

9. Can I go downstairs?

10. Can I hold your hand?

How to: Make bad decisions.

Have someone say: Let's meet at the gym tomorrow at 5 pm! Have me counter with: that's when I deal with children! How about Early morning? What time does the gym open? Plan to meet people at the gym at 6 a.m. At 4 p.m. in the afternoon this is an awesome idea as I don't need sleep. I'll never feel tired.

Note: The only time I got up and went for a run at 6 a.m. my body was all "you are a fucking jerk, this is the worst idea you've ever had...running? c'mon! no. wrong. I refuse to participate in this activity." I'm going to barf on everyone, I know it. Then cry. And call them really terrible names. That's what happened the last time I interfaced with the public before 7:30 a.m. And the worst part? I suppose I have to go to bed early. Sigh.

This was perhaps a terrible idea. I'm going to bed. I hate tomorrow.

Postscript: well, because I knew I had to wake up at 5:59 for my 6 am work out, I woke up at 4. Be PREPARED! On the plus side, it seems better to be up before the kids rather than have them pull you (kicking and screaming) out of bed. AND I've already accomplished something, technically while I was sleeping. Bad Idea turning into Good Idea? We'll see.

Shout Out

Alright, this is for my townie friends:

Join my Brand *NEW* Roller Derby League! Skate DATE: Last week of April.

For ALL the information you need to come and play too,

email: kingstonrollergirls@gmail.com

It will be rad. I promise you.

When Men Leave Town

When the men leave town all hell breaks loose. It is always this way for me. Maybe it's because the children then really outnumber the left behind parent (if you have three children) and the universe gets testy/bored/excited and wonders What If? What if I break down her car or give everyone mouthal and anal vomiting (all at once) or make a blizzard at -40 degrees or loose her keys or maybe a pregnancy scare? Everyone loves those. Anyway, I survived my recent abandonment, I mean, single parenting experience (barely). But my neighbour: her husband is not even gone 12 hours and she is calling me with an emergency! Seriously universe...c'mon. And while we wait for the ambulance I'm thinking, sweet lord jesus, no one is sleeping in my house tonight, all Five Children that I'm now responsible for. Might as well roast a chicken. So much for not drinking today.

UPDATE: kid's got Croup. Damn that dirty jerk Croup.

Family Day

Today is Family Day, which means that if you didn't buy milk yesterday and this morning you used the very last of it for your third cup of coffee, you are shit out of luck because all the people who run the stores are at home with their families. This comes after Valentine's Day which comes after my birthday. Both of which I spent with my family (some of it actually awake and a bunch of it asleep). Like Valentine's Day which demands you be romantic, demanding me to spend time with my family (by the provincial government) makes me rebel, like any proper teenager would. So I've come to work. Which I'll start doing right after I eat this cake left over from my birthday.

BIRTHDAY

FEB 13th I turn some variant of 30. I don't know how I feel about this.

All Time High Point

Tonight I went home to Power-Up: had a beer AND chocolate covered candy. Wondering if I should feel ashamed. Feel kinda good inside. Really.

Today's Motto

There's nothing I can do.

Sunday

Does mixing skim milk with melted butter equal whole milk? What about skim milk with sour creme? And why is my three-year-old insane?

How to: accidently give yourself a great day

Receive your Income Tax Refund check. Keep it in a safe place (i.e., shoved in a stack of papers and other misc. things). Organize (um, straighten) said stack various times throughout the year: seriously, at least 10 times. While "re-organizing" the pile, Rediscover Refund Check! Six months later. Surprise the Crap out of yourself. Feel like you've won the lottery (although, feel mildly concerned you had completely forgotten about such a large sum of money). Spend the next two hours looking for more!

Hair Report to you: Oh My God

I want to cut my hair. Iwanttocutmyhair. The last time I had hair this length, my drunk roommate cut it all off in a fit of "let's see what will happen" and I walked around for several days looking like a hobo. I couldn't stand it any more: the length, the life, the me. Hard to say. And thus my 12 year odyssey of self cut short hair began. But Now! Now I pay for haircuts and wash my hair and make plans for it (left part? right part? hat?). What a waste of time.

Sometimes my hair looks like this.

Once I took my hat off and this happened.

Love Thursday

Today I told my boss that life was seriously kicking me in the nuts. To which he responded: "You don't have nuts, Sweetie." Then I swooned. From the word sweetie. As if he had just said "everything is okay" so convincingly and then picked me up off the floor and held onto me until I stopped sobbing.

Sometimes, being a grown-up is almost too hard.

ZIPPERS

Can Suck It.

Dawn of the Near Dead

The Trip Karma is really kicking me in the balls (followed up by a round-house kick to the spleen). Lew has Croup. Know what you do when a kid has Croup? You stay up all night. Right now I'm dabbing my nose with a tissue (cause my brain keeps dripping out) whilst simultaneously pouring caffeine into my face hole, wraggling snowsuits, punching the cat, finding my socks, and wondering how the fuck I'm going to make it (I'm sure once the pain killers take effect I'll be aces). Awesomely, fantastically, thank-fucking-ly, he seemed fit enough to go to daycare which leaves me fit to sit at my desk and lapse in and out of coma.

Ready, Set: wait. uh oh.

Well, it's day one of The Revenge Trip and it started with a bang! That would be, the sound in my head when my new boyfriend (more on that later) came to pick up his visiting kid last night and said: "hahahahah, so no school tomorrow? lucky kids." I was all "what the crap? no school. stop being so silly you big silly pants, it's monday. of course they have school." And then he says IT like it's no big deal: "yeah, tomorrow's a PA day." Then I fainted. I don't know what PA stands for but in my mind PA = an extra long weekend with no childcare. Which I don't like by the way. I like my job. It is quiet. There are no children. And no one poops their pants (usually). And When Monday comes around I'm all "I need a break. Send me to work." Fucking spontaneous PA days (which are incidently marked on a calendar on the fridge but whatever). Seriously, most 12 year-olds are more on top of things than me.

In the end it worked out and I found last minute childcare. He says her name is "Cindy" and I've asked him, I mean her, to please not smoke in the house (or at least crack a window and keep your back to the kids). I'm sure the boys will be fine. Hahaha. Just kidding (sort of). And honestly, I'm kind of sad that I didn't get to tell the story of how I showed up for school only to find there wasn't any. Now THAT would have been funny. Eventually.

Right Now

There are Five boys in the basement. It smells like puberty. I swear.

Memory #34

The Mixed Tape. Year: 1995. When CDs were just coming into style and double-cassette decks still populated most houses and the era of mixed tapes was about to die. This is the year I got my first and only mixed tape: From a Boy. My City Cousin and I would exchange mixes once in a while (an expression of my late eighties/early nineties tastes I will Never Ever Live Down as I gave her nothing but Guns'n'Roses in exchange for nothing but The Smiths) but that didn't count. Cause we were related and she wasn't a boy. And she was giving me music out of what I can only assume was pity (and a kind attempt to make me less lame) while he was giving me music to get in my pants. Oh the romance. Once in a while I come across a song from That Mixed Tape and I'm forced to remember the Only Mixed Tape I Ever Got From a Boy. And oh that boy. That was before we fell in love with Velvet Underground and banana pancakes and other people. And before the Celestine Prophesy (yes, I'll have some cheese with that cake) and before Chabbits (a chicken + a rabbit), before I understood just how damn scared I was and before the Only Poem Ever Written Just for Me. Oh that boy. Used to send me letters on things he found in the street. And hitch-hike across the country and materialize at my window. It was also the first time I heard a recording of Here Comes the Sun. And when I hear it now, I think about waking up on the beach to the sound of the PEI ferry docking and chasing airplanes out of the sky and calling my mother asking her to put some chips (and antibiotics) on the evening boat to the island cause I was SO Hungry (nothing has changed really) and that it burned when I peed. I wish I still had that tape. But it was lost 10 hundred years ago during my Famous Exodus of 1999 when I left all my belongings to someone else. Oh well.

The Eve before several days of Single Parenting: AKA the revenge Trip

I'm hardly mature enough to be in-charge. I miss my mommy.

To do:

1. pray (for forgiveness, an early spring, instant potty training, a coma), extra hard.

2. buy all the groceries. In K-town.

3. and most of the alcohol

4. stop thinking about the always-on (since last week) Check Engine light in the car

5. Put all my back-ups (babysitters) on Call.

6. wonder the streets aimlessly, alone, in the dark

7. Rent 10 hundred movies

8. eat a bag of chips (you know, to calm my nerves)

9. sleep in (till 8 am)

10. take an afternoon nap without Risk (of death, shit-art, escape) 

11. Carb-load

12. Charge my phone. Find my credit card. 

13. buy ponchos. In case of a monsoon. 

Sometimes I think about this poem

The Taxi

When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?

.....The Taxi by Amy Lowell (1874-1925)

I'm a jerk but at least I'm pretty (ish)?

One of my pet peeves includes: jerks who don't do what they say they are going to do. Sadly, oddly, I am one of those people (and I hate myself, really). For instance: I said I was going to three parties last weekend and I only showed up to one (by a hair: I was totally going to stay home and eat chips). Then, I said I'd work out with people: bailed. Oh oh. Don't forget how I scheduled that work meeting: cancelled at the last minute. And I just got off the phone after leaving a message to say, yeah, no, not going to be getting that laser hair removal. RESCHEDULE (the first of three cancels before I manage to make myself go). Yes, it is one of my best skills. Make a plan and not follow through. Very much NOT what Brian Boitano would do. My favorite things to bail on: Dentist appointments, anything that involves a potluck, and things planned long in advance. This is to say, SIGN ME UP! I won't show up. Once I know where I'm going, I'm already bored. I blame Future Me talking shit to Present Me. Please don't ask me to do something next week. Or next month. Planning ahead is not for me. But there are times I agree to some things. And when I cancel (which I usually do) at the last second, I Feel Awesome. I am Stealing: Stealing FREE time and giving it back to ME. Unplanned time. Spontaneous time. Anything-could-happen time.  Everytime I say "Maybe! We'll see! I'll Try!" Yeah. Not so much. Honestly it's an 80/20 split. In that: yeah, probably not. And what will I be doing instead? Frolicking in my free time, probably in my underwear doing whatever the fuck I feel like doing. I'm a fucking jerk, and I'm sorry. I feel terrible about it. But not really. I'm sure that's a big part of the problem.

morning vs me

Children always get more sleep = make so much mother fucking noise right inside by brain with all that energy: morning wins

It's January and still night-time at 6:30 am: morning wins

Bed (I love you, let's do it doggie-style): morning wins

Sometimes people talk to me: morning wins

"The word peanuts has PEEE and NUTS in it": morning wins

Sometimes I can drink an entire cup of coffee: I win

"Lew has poop!!": morning wins

Showering with three people staring/peeing/yelling for breakfast: morning wins

Picking out socks and then misplacing them so have to do it twice: morning wins

Leaving anything "to do in the morning" (dishes/garbage/homework): morning always wins (and wipes it's ass with me)

Staring at the wall for 30 minutes in silence after I arrive at my place of phd-ing: I win

Getting a parking ticket for leaving the car on the street overnight: morning wins

Going Bizerk on a snowsuit that won't get on a toddler: HAHA I win you son-of-a-bitch

CURRENT KICK

Wearing my underwear inside-out. 

Not because it feels extra-awesome.

Or because I want to.

And it seems that those time I put more effort into it than necessary (you know, look) is when it is more likely to go terribly wrong (i.e., me discovering at approximately 9:45 am that I've done it again) and I find my self going "what the fuck? I thought I did it right this time." 

Getting dressed is hard.

Today's Word

Entropy: the tendency of nature (my life) to spiral into disorder/chaos. Wheeee.

Last Night

Went to a dinner party!

Was excited!

Socialized with Real Live Grown Ups.

Refreshing.

The events:

1. my skin (the new skin, found under the old skin that I had lasered off four weeks ago) is extra sensitive, in that, I have some zits. I looked 14...because of the acne, not the laser. Everyone else was at least 10 years older than me. Felt like a babe in the woods. Divine.

2. I was unsure of the dress code. Does dress like a Bard mean dress like a ballerina? I thought so. One guy wore a towel with a kilt printed on it. Awesome. 

3. They served Haggis. I enjoyed it. Especially when paired with scotch.

4. I made plenty of on-purpose inappropriate comments/jokes. 

5. My hair: I did not cut it. I did not wear my grey tuque to hide the mop. No one barfed on my head. A miracle.

6. I was starving (I haven't eaten in a few days do to fear of old food and boredom with feeding myself). So I had TWO servings of haggis.

7. Learned what feltching is. And that you can also spell it fletching. So there.

8. scabies can be sophisticated dinner party talk. And still continues to be hilarious. Especially when the guy beside you has a phobia of public transit and changes his pants immediately after sitting in a cab/bus/subway.

CURRENT KICK

Leaving the stove and stove elements on. 

I am either:

a) unconsciously trying to burn my house down

b) dementing (days before my 33rd birthday)

c) no where near being on planet earth (aka: in the here and now)

d) bored

Right NOW

Trying to get to Haiti.

Current Kick

Drinking water straight from the bathroom tap. It used to be a middle of the night thing. Now it's all the time.

Estimated time: 8:15 a.m.

Lew is crying and screaming because he asked for breakfast, yelled for breakfast, cried in my face for breakfast. And then I gave it to him. I know. I'm a terrible horrible mother. As soon as I get to work I'm going to re-evaluate my mothering skills. And drink some vodka to chase the crack pipe I will smoke.

Dex is crying/pouting because I told him that working on his computerized/programable robot (complete with 100,000 small/delicate pieces) was a bad idea 30 minutes before school, in the middle of the living room floor, five steps away from Lew who likes to trash other people's stuff just for the fuck of it.

And where is Nev: hiding in his bed, naked, crying hysterically because he is asked to put on clean clothes (that is to say: clothes he hadn't been wearing for four days already). It is now ten minutes before we need to leave for school.

I have been awake for roughly 30 minutes. I think a job negotiating with terrorists while underwater fighting sharks would be easier than this. My Mother is definitely to blame.

But No Worries: No one was beaten. Or eaten. Or given away to the Gypsies. And when one of my profs revealed to me his partner is pregnant five seconds after I delivered the snotty/crying mess to school, I did my best to act like having children is a Great Thing and So Fun and Awesome. High Fives. Two Thumbs Up. Good Luck with That! I don't think he got my sarcasm.

Conversations

7:30 a.m.

Nev: "Mommy! Dex just showed me a magic trick!!"

Me: "oh?"

Nev: "He put a car into his slinky and turned it into his penis!"*

Me: "Gross. Please put your penises away and get ready for school."

_________________________

*Who knew boys actually practiced tacky pick-up lines so young.

Today's Motto

It's just a little touch of fate. I'll be okay. I'll dream the rest away.

Today

I hate other people's ear infections. A Lot. 

So: to distract myself from other peoples' agony, I made boeuf bourguignon. It took six hours, 3-4 of which required active cooking. It tasted like God pooped in my mouth (which of course tastes like braised onions and slow cooked browned beef). 

Dexter: ate the bread only.

Neville: "I think I'm the only kid in the family who likes meat"

Lewis: too full from his 800 previous snacks.

Today's lessons: don't cook fine french cuisine for children. they are jerks. Oh and when your kid's ear starts spurting blood, it's just a perforated ear drum. No big deal. Although visitors will find the blood stains on my pillows curious. 

Parental Law # 7

Earaches ALWAYS strike at three am.

Todays Observations

1. That being told your child almost choked to death and they had to hymlick him isn't scary at all. 

2. I was right: my hellishly sore and terrible throat was just a virus. Or Astrid: 1, Strep throat: 0.

3. When I work, boy, I work. And when I work I don't think. Yay.

4. my laser face burn-off backfired: at three weeks out, I look worse instead of younger. maybe it just needs more time.

5. tapping into the internet once daily is best. Versus 5000 times.

6. that people with Teeny Tiny Heads exist. 

7. People litter on purpose. Crazy.

8. Social Grace is a lost art. 

Memory #80

While in the shower tonight I started to think of all the Fictional crushes I've had over the years. I found this memory alarming:

1. First celebrity crush (I was probably 8ish): Corey Hart. I would get super pissed when my siblings, who couldn't help it cause we shared a room, would "listen" to my record as I was listening to it, back in 1986. I needed alone time with him, Just me and Corey.

2. Corey Haim: I think it was a "Corey" transference, crushing from one Corey to the next. 

3. David Hasselhoff, as Night Rider. What a dreamy man. With such a cool car. And a HERO. (hot.) If I had been born a boy, this is the man I would have wanted to become. Scary.

4. Superman (Christopher Reeve): I had a thing for heros

5. Almost all of the New Kids on the Block, at one point or another, except Danny, cause he looked like a monkey.

6. Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. At age 12, that was the most sexy movie I'd ever seen. 

7. Brad Pitt (from Legends of the Falls) and Tom Cruise (from Far and Away). I was 15 and stuck in the woods. I couldn't help myself.

8. Jude Law: oh wait. that's now. He's such a baby-implanting scoundrel. Yummy

Zen and the art of potty training: conversations

Me: "hey Lew! look, there's a Guy in your potty! PEE ON HIM! 

Lew: "That's funny!"

Dexter: "Lewis is going to pee on a guy?! I wanna see that! Hey Neville, Lew is going to pee on a guy! I'd do it. Can I do it??" 

Neville: "me too me too me too!"

Me: "oh crap, this isn't what I meant. Jesus put your pants back on the whole lot of you!"

Today: The Zen of Potty Training

I dislike potty training. You know why? Cause there is Nothing I Can Do About it. It is the ultimate Zen test. Let be. Let go. Relinquish Control. Just Live. A person (i.e., Me) has to hand over responsibility to the Child: a 3.5 year old Irrational Beast. This was a difficult task 5 years ago with Dex, before I had learned that controlling one's anus has nothing to do with the degree of my "I'm so disappointed" tone. This Time? Fuck it. I'll put him in underwear, let him sit in his own excrement. Live it. Feel it. The problem? The child has nasty tricks up his sleeves. He doesn't mind his filth. He Enjoys it in fact. Plays in it. Quietly. Waits for me to find him all decked out in a film of shit. I have a feeling the Kingdergarden teacher is really going to disapprove of my parenting philosophy (again): wait until he feels like using the toilet. So what if he's 20 and still wearing a daiper? That's his life choice, not mine. Cause really, making someone do something (love you, lose weight, put their socks in the dirty clothes) is impossible. Unless duct tape is involved. 

How to: get drunk and gain personal insight

Ahem: the list of favorite wines grows by one:

1. Mateus Signature, Douro 2007, Portugal. $8,95

2. Conde De Valdemar, Reserva 2003, Spain. $21,10 (i.e., yikes!) 

I like #1 the BEST so far (wins with taste to price ratio), but I think #2 is actually a better wine. But then, I'm an "other peoples' preference slut" in that I am easily swayed: someone told me it was very very good and then gave it to me. Even said to Save it for a Special Occasion. (I don't understand special occasions. I wasn't born with a sentiment circuit.) But! Free Wine? Extra DELICIOUS. But in all likelihood, my taste buds are biased. I'll buy #2 when I'm feeling Impressive and Sexy. Oh, and Rich. The search for 3-5 continues...

In the meantime it seems I am learning things about myself:

1. I like to taste this part of the world with my mouth.

2. I like drinking.

3. I like it when I get stuff for free

Realizations that let me to subtract 5 points from myself for being like every other jerk in the world.

How to: have a good time for one

Me + Charles Bukowski + Night = Fun Times

Things Found

You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold.

(the original Dire Straits version is pretty sweet too.)

And holy shit, does it ever make me cry and turn my eyes a crazy shade of blue. 

CURRENT KICK

Being awake at 4-5 a.m. For the day. 

The Murder of 2010

Fact: Started punching and kicking classes (Me. I. this woman signed a six month contract to learn some martial arts. seriously. I find it hysterical. and atypical-I'm not so great with plans and commitments and promises. Step 2: register for the Kingston Tri. Step 3: EAT. A LOT. Step 4: mmmmm cake.)

Fact: Stopped drinking coffee. Had my regular at work after a two week absence and disliked it. Mildly considered starting antidepressants. Will start running again instead. Ran 20k cold on a random January day last year. Need to do that again. 

FACT: getting shit done at work. sort of. And by sort of I mean: not really.

fact: spent an inappropriate amount of time looking at new cars today. will likely buy a new car before the year is out. With cash bitches. with cash. This is the part where I high-five my financing skillz. And the part where I am living how I planned to. (CASH CASH CASH)

fact: sometimes I lie. 

Fact: haha. funny. I don't care. I don't care if you think I'm lame. a bad mother. old. a jerk. smelly. stupid. no difference. and the more different you and I are: ha! the more fun I'll have figuring out how to be your friend.

fact: pretty sure I'm going to Burning Man (and the sweet desert) and we're gonna drive. and then peru (that's where the mountain I will climb lives). I will start the vaccines soon. And by "pretty sure" I mean, it's on my mind. And maybe it will have to wait until 2012.

FACT: my seven-year-old is insanely socially intelligent. 

fact: I am writing my MCATs in 8 months. And then I will go to Medical School. After I get my PhD. And it will look just like that. 

FACT: I changed my mind. 2010 is going to be insane. And after a low-key 2009 I'm ready.

Fact. just had two glasses of my current favorite wine and believe I can conquer the world. Yikes. Just have to do it now.

Things Found

Can I be the girl that you met at the coin laundry?

Fear and Loathing

Something to do with it being a Sunday AND the last day of vacation

Fear:

That People I miss will die before I see them again (I am selfish)

A creepy feeling I'm not going to stay out of trouble in 2010 if I don't live impeccably (impossible)

Wearing my contacts (re: recent blinding events)

Loathing:

Cleaning out the refrigerator (barf)

Facing my undone work (=I'm a jackass)

Making lunches (everyday: dull)

Waking up on time (translation: going to bed before 2 am; booo)

Leaving the house (which will involve putting on pants: sucky)

Making dentist appointments for the kids (3 years overdue) 

Watering the Poinsettia (it's going to die: I know it. not good)

NYE conversations

Me: "WOW, this smoked salmon on bread is delicious!"

Dex, as he cream cheeses his baguette: "You cannot talk me into eating fish."

Me: "oh"