February 9, 2010

pharmaceutical pursuits

Posted in whine and cheese at 4:23 am by ben

I heard this morning that there is a new gum for men that works like Viagra.  Seriously?  We’re still researching men’s equipment failures when there are real diseases without cures?  And not only do we have to spend kajillions to get their tackle up but we also had to find an easier method of dosing to provide erectile functionality.  If pills are too complicated how do they plan to fuck??  Or maybe they need a little gumming there too.  I shake my head.  I guess it shows who’s financing research… soft rich men.

I have often wondered if women held the purse strings what they would be researching.  I’d be willing to bet there’d be a lot more done in children’s medicine and maybe someone would finally give a shit about women’s health.  Menstrual cramping, PMS and menopause relief (that doesn’t require the use of pregnant horse piss) are still in the dark ages technologically speaking and really, do we not complain enough about these things to make them worth finding cures for just to shut us up??!

If  men were really on the ball (so to speak) they’d be coming up with drugs (gum, CHOCOLATE) to turn women on because that would be even more to their benefit.  How many men would love to be able to skip the “work” of foreplay and just have their wives (girlfriends, interns, hookers) pop a pill and be good to go.  But no, the men who SHOULD think that way don’t think that way.  They are the kind of men who are only concerned with their own needs and who really believe that as long as their penis is rigid, that in itself is gift to the woman.  This kind of man can (and should) be replaced by a zucchini.

Now I’m not saying that all men who use drugs to stiffen their staff are selfish and self absorbed, I’m just saying that great sex requires more than just a a hardon… for a woman at least.  Frankly I am surprised more women don’t invest in saltpeter just to keep that wily one-eyed worm at bay.  Or maybe they do and men just THINK they have erectile disfunction.  Now that’s an interesting concept.  How awesome would it be to discover after all these years that men really don’t have erectile issues at all, instead their wives were just dosing them with phallic softener.  Brilliant and cruel, I love it.

Speaking of cruelty, whatever is going on in my head has surpassed cruel and moved on to viciously sadistic.  I was very careful with my nose and did nothing to disturb it all week but on Sunday morning I blew it without thinking and the geyser began again.  Fuck.

My husband wanted me to go back to the hospital but I just didn’t have it in me to go through all of that again so after about an hour I managed to get the blood to stop gushing.  I used a tampon to plug it, very absorbent those things, it worked great (I did cut off the string, I am not completely vulgar).  I spent the rest of the day being very still and trying not to aggravate it and get it pouring again.  The headache is the really sucky part of it all, it’s constant and it feels like my head has a lead balloon inside of it.  My sinuses feel full of what I can only imagine is dried blood and the steady dull pain radiates out from deep between my eyes.  I will go see the doctor to get it checked out in case there is more to it or even just to get some better drugs for the pain.  I’m popping Tylenol by the handful and it’s not even touching it.  I have convinced myself it’s a tumor and I am naming it “Tina”.

Tina Tumor!

*slaps knee*

Speaking of drugs and entirely off topic, I have been thinking I’d like to try growing a little cannabis.  I don’t want to smoke it or sell it, I just think they are cool plants and I want to try to grow a few.  I have a client who is in the know about all things Mary Jane so I asked her if she’s ever started hers from seed and how I would go about it.  She gave me some tips and said she only grows three or four plants but that is enough to last her all winter… for ‘medicinal’ use of course.  She offered to get me a few seeds so I am totally excited to try it out.

When I told my husband I was planning on growing a couple pot plants he said “Meth is easier to make.”

I didn’t even know how to respond to that.

February 26, 2009

white out

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 4:27 pm by ben

Winter in my little corner of Canada is not like winter in other places.  Our first snow usually falls in October and it continues to descend on us like flying monkeys in heat, humping the shit out of us  until March, we get a few flakes in April and occasionally a freak snowfall in May. One year when we lived in Cowtown it snowed every month except August. Now that is not to say that it bombards us endlessly over that period but we do get a lot of it. Most places get a dump of the white crap and then it warms up enough to melt it and then it snows some more and melts again and so on but here it stays cold enough through the whole season that we don’t get any real melting until spring which means what is left on the ground sometimes hangs around until well into May. Some years we suffocate under the big white blanket for up to eight months depending on the year and it’s been up to seven feet deep on our roof.

As if the snow and cold were not bad enough (and trust me they are) the long winters are usually cloudy and gloomy in this area because we are between mountain ranges and thanks to what they call an “inversion” the clouds settle in the valley and block out the sun. I can deal with cold weather but benny needs some sunshine once in a while lest she become a stark raving looney. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I don’t own a gun… or a flamethrower… or magic mushrooms.  

Many people love the winters here for the extended ski, snowboard and sledding season. Tourists and adventurers come from all over the world to frolic in our winter wonderland but for those of us who are not outdoorsy winter-folk it gets pretty fucking depressing. The only thing I am grateful for about living in this area in the winter is that at least we don’t get wind.  I’m a summer girl, I love to be outside (without eighteen layers of clothing on, thank you very much) gardening and camping and I can’t do either in the winter… though I just bought some dirt so I can at least start some seedlings indoors hoping to spring into spring with a few early starters.  It’s called denial, or Cabin Fever.

So I am left plowing (literally) through the long cold months, counting down the days from Thanksgiving to May long weekend until I can be doing the things that make me happy rather than just getting through the days. February tends to be the longest of those waiting months for me, there are two main reasons for this; first of all it is the darkest month since typically this is when the inversion is at its worst. We literally do not see the sun for weeks at a time and the endless cloudy days make me feel trapped and claustrophobic under the depressing looming gloom. The second reason February sucks sweaty wrestler anus is because we’ve already had plenty of winter already and the warmer temps of spring are just over the horizon and the anticipation of March only serves to drag the days out. I desperately yearn to see the thermometer rise above zero hoping that the worst is over but inevitably when it does so in February it is always followed by a big drop back into the negatives and yes, more fucking snow.

This February has been a welcome anomaly. We’ve had blue skies and sunshine for the better part of the month and we’ve even had a little tease of above zero days. It’s made all the difference for me… that and the vitamin D I take daily to ward off the winter psycho within. Usually by this time of year I’m thinking about going postal atop a tower with something that shoots far and fast. I find myself in a constant state of angst and losing the will to hold on. It’s like I’m on the edge of a meltdown precipice with one foot hanging off the ledge and the other on a cat shit covered linoleum floor.

It had been almost a month since the last snowfall. The sun shone almost every day, the roads were bare enough for me to take long walks plugged into mipod and my mood was as clear and bright as the big blue sky. We even took a drive out to the lake last weekend. We weren’t sure if we’d be able to make it the mile across the dyke without snowshoes but someone had ridden a snow machine across so the road was pretty compact. Once we got to the island we had to slog through close to 4 feet of deep powder to get up the driveway and to the deck of the cabin. It was a bit of an effort but well worth the energy spent. Even in winter my home away from home feels like home. If there is any way we can get it finished this year I fully intend to do some winter camping next year. I’ll freeze my ass off I know it but it’ll be worth it… at least I hope it will. Maybe winter camping would suck and I am just in denial because I miss summer and the lake so much.

Yesterday I looked around my yard and marveled that soon the sun would pack enough heat to melt the white shit and it wouldn’t be long before I could at least see my gardens. This morning I woke to eight inches of new snow and it feels like we’re starting all over in January again. We’re supposed to get up to another 18 inches in the next two days. I’m done, over it, I’ve had enough! Jack Frost you can go snowblow and then snowball Old Man Winter and I hope you both choke on it!  

Well, that hardly made me feel better at all. Maybe a glass (or six) of wine would help.  
Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go shovel the fucking driveway… again. 

February 14, 2009

it’s VD, get a heart on

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 5:03 pm by ben

 I call it VD because technically it is a social disease.  I have a theory that VD was invented by men who were tired of hearing their wives bitch about how they‘d lost that lovin’ feelin’… or at least stopped expressing it in a romantical manner.  I figure that these sly fellows decided that if they could condense all of that heartsy flowery crap into one day it would take some of the pressure off of them for the other 364 days a year.  Then, I figure, Hallmark, Purdy’s and Teleflora hopped on the bandwagon (since they are probably owned by men as well and there’s no business like shamed neglectful husband business) and VD bloomed into the consumer brouhaha (I’ve waited forever to use “brouhaha” in a blog post!) that it is today.

I’m not the kind of girl who gets all caught up in VD, I think it’s pure silliness.  It’s not the thought that counts with VD, there is no thought to it.  Retailers have taken all of the romance and thought out of the ‘holiday’ by adorning the packaging with pretty pink hearts and bright red ribbon to dummy-proof the whole process.  Even the cards that kids give each other already have “To” and “From” on them so anyone who can scrawl an “X” can send a VD card.  Stores are laden with grand bunches of flowers (that they mark up to triple the price for the occasion of course) and aisles are littered with reminders to buy something for your special someone.  Buy! Buy! Buy! Or she won’t know you love her! 

I think VD should be about single people hooking up with random strangers for a night of fun and frolic.  I can even see the commercialism in it… little heart-shaped condoms (for those hard-to-fit heart-shaped penises…peni?) and maybe strawberry lube and chocolate flavored anal beads.  On second thought, nothing that is edible and looks like chocolate should be in that area.  My point (if I really have one) is that the whole jour de l’amour (day of love) should be for those who need it most.

Now I’m not saying that people who are committed (and maybe we should be committed) don’t need romance, in fact we might need it more, but it’s different for us.  After twenty years with the same man it takes more than a bouquet of flowers to light my fire.  I love flowers (gerbera daisies in particular) but they are a copout for VD.  If he bought me flowers on any other (non celebratory) day of the year he’d earn himself huge brownie points but a plant would earn him more and a load of manure for my garden would probably get him laid.  Now I’m not saying I am high maintenance (though apparently it has been uttered, quietly) but when a couple has been together as long as we have they should know each other and celebrating the love should be personal.  The cutesy teddy bears and jewelry are pretty generic as far as VD gifts are concerned and surely they serve their purpose in some circumstances but how many stuffed animals does one woman need (he’s bought me a bunny every year for Easter… I have 21 stuffed rabbits… that’s enough already!) and he knows better than to buy me jewelry.  He bought me an expensive pair of earrings a few years ago (that at this point are worth more than his car) and I’ve worn them once.  I like my cheap hoops from Wal-Mart (if I lose or break them I won’t feel bad or be out more than about ten bucks… which technically is probably more than his car is worth too at this point) and when I dress up I’ll put on my wedding ring and occasionally a necklace.  See, I am totally low maintenance!

Love is not about one day a year and it’s not about spending a bunch of money on the heartsy fartsy things.  Love is about not being too mad when you find his toenail clippings in the bed.  Love is him not mentioning when you haven’t shaved your pits in a month (or two).  Love is being able to not only leave the bathroom door open while you do your business but also having your partner come in and visit while you do.  Love is pretending not to notice the skids in his underwear while he pretends not to notice you’ve put on a few pounds.  Love is not just accepting but appreciating imperfections.  Love is not sweating the petty stuff while you’re petting the sweaty stuff.  Love is always having someone else to blame for the empty toilet paper roll.  Love means never having to wonder if you’ll get a kiss goodnight.  Love is not needing to be told when to sport a heart on because it’s always there.

All of that aside, VD is a good day to spend with people you care about.  Trixie and Harry and the kids are coming out for cards, drinks and dinner (I’m making chicken neptune, roasted vegetables, bruschetta, salad and heart-shaped cupcakes filled with vanilla cream and topped with fudge icing) and while it might not be terribly romantic it makes me happy to feed people (and drink wine) and it’s a lot more fun than roses.  So happy VD my friends and I hope you celebrate by spreading your legs love around in whatever way that makes you happy.

December 3, 2008

Trixionary

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 4:59 am by ben

Kayla wanted to help her mom make dinner.  Trixie lifted the little girl up onto the counter so she could see better, they were having roast chicken and the mother took the opportunity to give her child a fowl anatomy lesson.  “These are the legs, they attach to the thighs and these are the wings and these are the breasts right here on it’s back.”

My cousin Trixie (‘the pornstar manicurist’ as her husband calls her… and wishes!) is not just family, she is also my friend and my business partner.  We spend more time with each other than we do with our husbands.  Through the summer there were very few days we did not spend together.  There are times where she gets on my nerves and I need a break from her (while I am sure she NEVER needs time away from me!) though usually the sketchy moments are when the moon is telling us it’s almost time to go for a ride on the old menstrual cycle.  We both get pretty crabby with PMS so it’s hard when we are so close (literally, figuratively and relatively) not to take it out on each other.  Most of the time however we enjoy each other’s company and our clients say we’re fun to be around and we play off each other like a couple of comedians.  We like to keep them laughing (they tip better that way) and part of the reason we get along so well and are able to be so joined at the hip is because we can laugh at each other too.

Trix isn’t dumb but she’s not always the sharpest knife in the block either.  Her husband Harry calls me often, pissing himself laughing,  to tell me of something she’s said or of some colloquialism or cliche she’s fucked up.  Recently I started to compile them.

I present, the Trixionary

 

Brocko Bamma

He’s the President elect of the United States.  


You don’t put a new wheel on the car if the old one isn’t flat

Her version of ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’

 

 

Duck Feet

duck feet?

duck feet?

 

 

 

According to Trix the little squiggles beneath the vehicle are duck feet.  I asked her why they’d put duck feet under a car to signify a hazardous driving condition.  She explained to me that it means “Watch out, it’s slippery, put your duck feet on!”  
How can you argue with that logic??!
Oh and the guy driving… that’s Barney Rubble.

 

Nip it in the Butt

When your kids do something wrong you nip them in the butt so they don’t do it again.

 

Agony of the Feet

What you get after a long day of shopping especially if you’re wearing new shoes.

 

Chief, Cook and Bottled Water

The most important person in a group or company.  This is how she has referred to her father who manages a large local company.  She says they are all ‘top shelf’, the chief, the cook and the bottled water.  I tried to explain that the term was ‘chief cook and bottle washer’ but she ‘tsk’d’ me and said “There’s no such thing as a ‘chief cook’ and who washes bottles by hand anymore?!”

 

Don’t turn on the faucet if there’s only hot water coming out

Harry told me that when she came up with this gem he figured she was going for “Don’t rain on my parade.”

 

You couldn’t find your way out of a wet paper bag
Not even if you were fighting? 

 

Bowling ball in a china shop

“It’s a BULL in a China shop.” I corrected her.  

“How the fuck would a bull get in a China shop?”

“How would a bowling ball get in a China shop?” 

“You’d take it in there after bowling.”  

“A bull would do way more damage than a bowling ball though.” 

“A bowling ball could do a lot of damage if you threw it around.”

“I swear to you, the real saying is ‘Like a BULL in a China shop.”

“Well that’s just dumb.”

 

Jet Leg

“It’s not ‘lag’, what the fuck is ‘lag’?  It’s jet LEG, like after a long flight you get off the plane and you’re wobbly from sitting so long.”

 

I know you’re wondering about her past drug use at this point but she’s never done drugs, illicit, prescription or otherwise.  It does seem however that she either has very bad hearing, a really good imagination or she’s mildly retarded.  

November 23, 2008

drag strip

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 11:47 pm by ben

It was all our niece Kayla’s idea, this was her first year without the tricking and the treating so instead she thought dressing her uncle up as a chick for Halloween would be the best way to spend the evening.  We weren’t going out, we weren’t even drinking, we were just hanging out with Trix and the kids at their place.  It’s kind of fun for us because there aren’t any children within about 15km of our house so we need not even buy candy, which is good because we’d eat it all and then have to replenish it again (and again)  before the 31st even arrives.  There is some brilliance in the Halloween treat marketing, I do believe that is precisely the reason the shit gets put on shelves at the end of August.

He ‘borrowed’ a pair of my panties.  Yes my derriere is slightly (ahem) larger than his (he told me yesterday my ass is ‘bountiful’ and didn’t understand why I hit him for saying it) but there was a time not so long ago when it was not as much larger as it is now, it was the undies from that time that I gave him.  Why did he need panties?  He said he’d not wear a dress that showed the lines from his boxer briefs.  

Wait, it gets worse, er better, er worse.

We found him a pair of tights but they weren’t opaque enough.  “You can still see the hair on my legs, that’s not authentic.”  He whined.  I knew my sugar was safe as he’s got zero pain tolerance but I am pretty sure if he had wanted to shave his legs I’d have been done.  Kayla found a pair of leggings and they made him happy…no more hairy legs.  Let that be a lesson to all of you ladies who are working on your winter coat gams for cold weather warmth.  If you want to wear a dress leggings will hide your razor/wax/sugar avoidance.

The bra was a whole other challenge, no matter what we stuffed in it ‘they didn’t feel real’.  I wasn’t sure who he thought was going to be groping him to make that judgment but I discovered later that he was all about feeling himself up anyway… he also spent far too much time touching his ‘clit’.  We settled on balled up facecloths for boobage stuffing and with their help his C cup runnethed over.  I had to keep adjusting the straps for him, he kept hiking them up like the bra was a backpack.

Kayla picked out a pretty pink and purple summer dress for my husband to wear.  He preferred the flowered halter dress he saw in her closet but conceded when he realized his bra straps would show.  

“I need heels!” he panicked.

“We’re staying in the house, you don’t need shoes.” I told him.

“It won’t look authentic without heels.”

Trix found him a pair of pink fuzzy slippers and that satisfied him until he looked in the mirror.

“I hate this town.”

“Why now?”

“Because there is no Payless here.  If we had a Payless I could buy some size 11 wide women’s heels.  Nobody in this town would carry that size.”

I just shook my head.

The wig was of the Hanna Montana variety.  It made him look a little like a long haired David Spade… who kind of resembles a chick himself.  Heiny shaved his face with a blade that morning so he’d have that ‘smooth ladyface’  but it still took half a bottle of cover-up to hide his shadow.   We put all of the make-up on pretty thick and by the time we were finished he really did look like the Miley Cyrus alter ego… the thirty year old, worn out used up version of her anyway.

He looked in the mirror, posed, gave himself his best sexy growl and said “I look good!”

He didn’t really.  In fact for a good looking guy he made a seriously ugly woman.  Even his mother refused to acknowledge him when we took him trick or treating to her place.  She looked right past him and wouldn’t even talk to him out of sheer embarrassment I am sure.  Apparently she was unaware of the phrase ‘a face only a mother could love’ .

It took two days for the ‘guyliner’ to wash off.  He had a bit of an emo look and he liked it.  He even suggested maybe he should buy some eyeliner of his own and he even go to the Mac counter at the Bay and have them do a full on make over on him.  I think not.

Heiny says next year he’ll get a better wig and next year he’ll buy proper heels and next year he’ll get a sexier dress and next year he’ll have water balloons for tits and on he goes.  At least he was only thinking about cross dressing for Halloween.

Or so I thought.

Last Friday when I came home from work he started giggling.

“What’s so funny?” I asked him.

He pulled his pants down just enough to give me a glimpse of his underwear, which were not his underwear, they were my panties, the same ones he wore for Halloween.  I could understand if they were silky lacy things but they were pretty basic cotton Fruit of the Loom bloomers.  I shook my head.  “You’re not right.”

“It’s no big deal honey,” he assured me “They’re unisex.”

“Yeah, that’s why there are little purple flowers on them.”

“Those aren’t flowers, they are little yellow circles surrounded by little purple circles.  They’re a little bit big for me though, I wonder what size panties I’d need.”

I just shook my head again hoping this was just for shock value and that the novelty would wear off.  Yesterday however when I was putting laundry away I discovered that when he did the last load of laundry he put ‘his’ pair back in his own unmentionables drawer. 

I told our son about the incident and he said “Remind me when we talk on Sunday that I want to ask you something about dad.”

“Yes, he is your real father.”  I assured him apologetically.

Turns out the Boy wanted to ask what he should buy his dad for Xmas., I suggested something manly because we’d both prefer Victoria’s Secret remain a mystery to that particular Heiny.  I’m afraid we brought his inner drag queen out of the closet and I am not sure how to put him/her back.  Worse yet, now when he tells me he wants to play ‘hide the sausage’ I won’t know if he wants sex or if he just wants to feel pretty.

October 30, 2008

homework check

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 11:39 pm by ben

I have a headache.  I’ve had it for about a month with very little respite.  I’m not whining, just explaining why I haven’t been around much.  The whining will come later have no fear.  I have (probably stupidly) signed up for nanowrimo so if I can get the jackhammers out of my brain long enough to write I am hoping to find the discipline to do so.  

I never forward jokes (in fact I rarely even read forwarded jokes) and it is even more rare for me to post such things on my blog but despite the throbbing agony in my head and current lack of a sense of humour, this cracked me up.

 

(As it turns out ‘Mommy’ works for Home Depot.  This is her selling a shovel.)

October 20, 2008

survivor type

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 9:54 pm by ben

A good portion of my dad’s family is mormon…though many of them have removed their magic underwear and are finding that life outside the church (cult) is not as scary as they were led (brainwashed) to believe.  When we were kids we’d go to visit our LDS (Latter Day Saints) relations and I was always amazed by their food stocks.  Now granted most of them had six or eight kids (breeding is the best way to manufacture more mormons) but their storerooms held groceries enough to sustain them for what I thought must be a year.  It turns out it was two years worth.  This was the first time I ever saw peanut butter in a five gallon bucket and gunny sacks of flour and I remember thinking it would take me way more than two years to eat that many PB & J’s.  My aunt explained that everyone should have enough food for two years in case of an emergency.

I never gave this a lot of thought, dismissing it as Mormon paranoia until Y2K.  People went crazy…even the ones who were non culters…stocking up, storing up and preparing for the worst.  I refused to be part of the madness but I did start to consider the possibilities and potentiality of our lives being forcibly turned upside down. 

I love disaster movies.  I know it sounds terribly sick but I love the idea of the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine).  I have put a great deal of thought into how I would live and what I would do if there were some major disaster that caused us to return to an olden way of life.  Now for the record if it’s nukes that set us back a few generations then I think I’d prefer not to survive.  Mutants and food that comes pre-microwaved is a little too much for me…unless I am a mutant or a zombie in which case bring on the live brains!  No, in my post-apocalyptic world we’ve just gone back about a hundred years.  There is no electricity, no internet (*gasp*), no running vehicles…I think it might be an oil/gas shortage.  We have to ride horses or bikes or walk to travel…oooh stagecoach would be cool too.  I’m wondering if I was born in the wrong time, I should have been a wild west girl I think.  Bennie get your gun!?!

There has been a lot of talk lately about another depression…worse than the last depression…which could be very depressing…and all I really know about that is what I saw on The Waltons.  All of the talk of doom and gloom has made me consider the possibilities.

I am quite sure we could survive for a very long time given our resources and what we know…along with my dad’s ability to hunt and my mom’s butchering experience.  I typo’d ‘bitchering’ and that’s true too but it wouldn’t really help us in a crisis.  We have access to plenty of firewood and we are near a river so heat and water are fairly easy to obtain.  There are plenty of fish and edible wildlife in the area so as long as someone else can kill and clean it I can cook it (if I had to do the killing myself I think I’d probably become a vegetarian) and between my garden and the wildberries I am sure we’d not starve or die of scurvy.

Giving up running water, flush toilets and immediate hot water would be difficult but having to do laundry by hand (there is a masturbation joke in there somewhere) could very well be the deal breaker for me.  My husband does most of the laundry now but if he’s out killing food and cutting firewood that leaves me with the domestic duties.  This is where my fantasy of a simpler life goes sour…and bitter…and the romantic ideal of the peace and tranquility of a Laura Ingalls world without trappings and ‘jobs’ and bills and everyday stresses falls flat against the washboard where I see myself scrubbing Heiny’s dirty undies.  Gross.

I guess my point…because I am sure when I started this there was one…is that we could survive an earth altering event…but would we really want to?  

How would you fare?

October 6, 2008

insight edition

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 7:13 pm by ben

I am convinced I have some psychic ability.  I can’t predict the future (although I’m pretty good at predicting the past) and I don’t talk to dead people (or at least they don’t talk to me…and I’m very ok with that).  Every once in a while though there is an event (or a series of events) that compels me to believe that either I have some kind of gift or my intuition is in overdrive.

It is not uncommon for me to know who is calling before the phone rings.  I also often think of a person and later run into them in a restaurant or at the grocery store.  This is a small town but it’s not so small that I see everyone every day.  Then there are times where the deja vu is so strong that I know what my day will be like before it begins, I usually even know when a client is not showing up or going to be late.  My sixth sense (or whatever it is) also guides my driving.  There are two routes I can take to exit town on my way home.  The first road is shorter and goes across the train tacks where my husband works, the other is an overpass which (funnily enough) overpasses the tracks but takes a minute or two longer to hit the outskirts of town.  Most of the time I listen to the voice in my head that warns me to go one way or the other but inevitably when I ignore it there is a train blocking the highway or there is an accident on the other road.  It’s freaky but every time I test my intuition there is some reason I should have gone in the other direction.  

This latest episode however was a first for me.

I had to go to the grocery store after work last week.  It is no secret that I despise food shopping but it’s not so bad when I’m getting ready to go to the lake and I have a list.  I think it’s the deciding and having to make all of the choices that irks me the most.  I think I might also be a little (or a lot) antisocial lately too so I’m not crazy about running into people who want to chat.  Usually they are clients who just want to tell me how hairy they are or show me their feet…it’s the nature of the business and I smile and chat politely and tell them to call me when all I really want is to get the damn food and get the hell out of there.

I was walking through the produce section, I picked up a watermelon, some berries and a lime.  I looked at the small green fruit and asked myself “You don’t need a lime, why are you buying that?”  I answered myself “I don’t know.” 

Do not be surprised that I have conversations with myself a) I spend a lot of time alone and b) I am pretty freakin’ great company, just ask me.  I looked at the sour citrus and pondered for a moment what I would do with such a purchase.  I couldn’t think of anything but something told me I needed it so I left it in the buggy.

I was in the dairy section when my phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Hi, where are you?”  It was Trixie

“I’m at the grocery store.”

“Oh good, I was just there but I forgot to get a lime, could you pick one up for me please?”

“Would you believe there is one in my cart?”

“You don’t use limes.”

“I know, something told me to pick one up.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“Yeah and apparently I’m reading your mind so you bloody well better be thinking nice things about me!”

 

Now if only I could figure out how to channel this ‘gift’ to pick winning lottery numbers, racehorses or sports teams, I don’t need esp to know to stay the hell away from the stock market.

September 9, 2008

bug screen

Posted in whine and cheese tagged at 7:50 pm by ben

 

My computer has a bug.

It’s not a cold or spywear or a virus or anything like that, it’s literally a tiny little bug.  

I noticed it the other night crawling up my screen but when I tried to squish it I realized he was on the inside of the screen.  Embarrassingly I must admit I even tried (several times) to get him with the little arrow that my mouse moves.  For two days he has distracted, irritated and annoyed me but rather than be driven insane by something I can’t change (the story of my life) I have decided to embrace my uninvited guest.  The other reason I am accepting his presence is because I imagine he is being exposed to all sorts of radiation inside mimac and at some point he could very well turn green and bust out of there.  I won’t make him angry, I wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.  That said, I have named him Bruce.

bugging me
bugging me

 

 

Say hello to my little friend. He’s watching…always watching.

July 31, 2008

lost at c

Posted in whine and cheese tagged , , at 3:47 am by ben

I had an entire post written up, it was brilliant and took me a ton of time and effort, but my computer farted/burped/barfed/fucked me over and I lost everything.  This is not the first time this has happened to me and yes I should have saved it sooner but fuck me this should not have happened at all.  I’m pissed about it now and I don’t have enough time to rewrite everything.  We came in from the lake last night and I worked all day today and we’re heading back out tomorrow as soon as I am off work and the groceries are boughten.  If only I had a word processor that I could take out with me I could post like a madwoman when I get home every week without scrambling trying to put it all together in a hurry.

I’m crabby now.

I guess my tale will have to wait until next week to be told or I may just say ‘fuck it’ and not bother rewriting it at all.  Like I’m punishing my mac for being a cunt.  Yes, I said the “c” word and I meant it!!  Maybe I will take a pen and some paper out with me tomorrow and try to write the old fashioned way…blah.  Now that I can type if blows to have to write longhand, not to mention that my long hand is shit and most of the time I can’t even read my own scrawl.  Maybe I need a dictaphone…or ice cream.

Hmph.

Beyond all of that I had a good birthday, I appreciated all of the greetings and a special thanks to Miss Krissy (Honeychild) for the beautiful necklace and earrings I received this afternoon in the mail.  I love them, they are gorgeous and I am so touched that she thought of me.  Thanks sweets, the gift means more to me than you know.

Alright, enough blathering about since I am not posting anything terribly noteworthy I might as well keep it brief.  I would like to apologize for being a lousy blog friend at the moment, as I mentioned I am not home much these days and while I try to catch up with everyone there is a time factor…I am on a hectic camping schedule!  I will catch up eventually but until then know I am thinking of all of you, I miss you and hope you are all well and enjoying your summer…or winter depending on your hemisphere.

Speaking of winter…it’s supposed to get down to 6 Celsius here tonight, yes that’s 42F(ucking) degrees American and bloody near freezing!!!!  I’ve said it before and I will say it again, GLOBAL WARMING MY ASS!!!  It’s the end of July not the beginning of October!  After our seven months of winter I was hoping for a hot dry summer and it’s been cold and rainy.  I’ve been determined to enjoy this summer despite the crap weather.  Oh yeah, that and the fact that my husband has been laid off again (for two weeks this time and when they return it will be to three shifts a week), plus we’re having issues with the boy’s health care coverage while he’s working in Indiana, plus plus plus I think I am PMS’ing which doesn’t help anything at all.  I am trying to let go of all of the worries so that I can chill and just enjoy life for a while without the stresses and pressures.  It’s not total denial, we know we have to make some decisions soon but the cabin is our priority at the moment…we have to get the roof on it before snow flies or we’ll lose everything we’ve put into it.  Let me just say the universe is not making stress free living easy for me right now.  My cunty computer isn’t helping either.  Apparently the universe thinks I need a lesson in patience.  I’d be happy with a lesson in document recovery. 

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