Blue

Today I leave for Elk Snout, Alberta. Actually it's Elk Point but I'm in a Snouty frame of mind. Actually, if I was being honest, I would call it Stupid-Elk-Fat-Asshole-In-Fucking- Nowheresville-Fuck. I'm leaving in an hour and I just realized I don't want to see my friends.
Rather, I don't want them to see me. I haven't felt this horribly shitty about myself in years and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and play possum.
I need to get my shit together
Kyla needs my support for this thing (her wedding) and has asked me to help get her house in order, protect her from vicious, traditional, family wedding-pranks, and keep things merry so her family doesn't dwell on the horrible death that will be hanging around like a black cloud. She's asked me to sit at the head table. That's very sweet of her but now I have visions of me standing up to say grace, baby in arms, bulging out of my clothes, dropping the tiny slip of paper I haven't bothered to memorize and after the meal, having food stains allover my ivory outfit as I will have to eat one-handed while holding baby. Fun and friggen games.
Today Celia got her shots again. Nothing like watching your tiny baby getting stabbed with three, inch long needles to start your day.

Todays quote "Blue are the feelings that live inside me" -Blue, Eiffel 65
This may be the lamest quote EVER.

How could I forget the Gahkal massacre, so close I could see the ambulances while I ate breakfast.

Death be not proud...

My friend is getting married on Saturday. Yesterday her uncle was murdered. I guess my life doesn't look so bad.
I thought "murder" was supposed to be some obscure thing that happened in the big cities. My grandma's neighbour was killed in his house. My mom's friend was stabbed 47 times by her husband and driven around in the trunk for 2 days. He then left the car in the garage, took out life insurance on her, and went on a holiday. (He served less than 2 years in jail.) My doctor's receptionist was raped, beaten, killed and half buried on the side of the road.


The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o’er man’s mortality -William Wordsworth

Christmas Ball

Two Christmases ago my Dad sent me a parcel of gifts, chocolates, etc. Also enclosed was a nativity scene, still in it's original packaging. Dad said his neighbours gave it to him when they moved. Because Dad already had one, he saved it for me, unopened. So I'm happily listening to X-mas tunes and talking on the phone to my Grandma while unwrapping each little piece of the scene. Tucked inside the baby's cradle was a little brown paper package. When I unwrapped it, meanwhile narrating the experience to my Grandma and describing each piece, I learned what the miracle of Christmas is reallly about. Inside the package was a deck of pornographic (gay men) playing cards!

"Oh, Eddie... If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn't be more surprised than I am now. " –Clark Griswold, Christmas Vacation [1989]

mmm... buttermilk

Whoever invented the Baby Einstein video series should get a Nobel Prize. I think if I were to do acid, I'd like to be watching the Baby Neptune dvd.

I'm going to South Africa! And Germany! Yay! I called my Mom and left her a message, "I have some news. I want to tell you before you hear it from Grandma tomorrow. Call me." I instantly thought of calling her back and leaving a message assuring her I'm not pregnant again, but decided that I was being weird. I called her again today and this is how it goes:
Mom: Hello
Tracy: Hi
Mom: You're pregnant again!
Tracy: What? No!
Mom: Well it wouldn't be a bad thing.
Tracy: What?!
Mom: Well it would be kind of fun don't you think?
Tracy: --------- (completely lost for words)

What is it with Grandparents? They spend 20 years threatening you not to get pregnant and once you do, before the doctor has a chance to wash his hands they're gunning for another one. My mother-in-law has been telling me to have 3 MORE since I gave birth. But I must say I was more than a little surprised to hear it from my own mother.

Today's great middle-aged marketing idea: Metamucil Smoothies- yuppies, unplugged

Today's quotes worth pondering:

"Now a question of etiquette; as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch...?" -Tyler Durden, Fight Club [1999]

"Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who’s the slimy little communist shit, twinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will PT you all until you fucking die. I’ll PT you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk.” -Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, Full Metal Jacket [1987]

Okay buttermilk? Speaking of marketing ideas -Got Buttermilk? And instead of a milk mustache.... okay never mind.

Necklace of death.

I was just thinking about the time Ken and I discovered that the necklace we gave my mom from Africa was made of castor beans. You know, the beans that ricin comes from. Ricin, for which there is no cure but death. Of course the oil has to be extracted and so on, but it's still kinda scarey. So I called my mom and told her maybe she should get rid of them and we'd find her something else. Something prettier and not potentially lethal. To be on the safe side. In case my brother thinks they look like coffee beans and eats them. She refused to give them up but to make me feel better she said she would put them in a safe place. That's right, the freezer! Sigh. Maybe she's punishing me for the time she fell down the stairs and I laughed until I cried. I'm laughing now. Good times!

"I say god-damn what a rush" -Vic Deakins, Broken Arrow [1996]

"Do you ever get down on your knees and thank God you know me and have access to my dementia?" -George Costanza, Seinfeld

Oh yeah, Futureshop is in the clear. Finally.

Note to self: Cancel letter-bomb.

Holy Hot Tamales Batman!

Aside from the blazing heat, the last two days have been better than the week prior. Nothing has been accomplished with Futureshop or Revenue Canada. In fact I have a few new expenses, but I have decided it's not worth giving myself an ulcer. Mostly I'm tired of listening to myself.

I will resume tyranny sometime next week if nothing improves.

I actually made it to church today (late) and it seemed to kind of kick-start my day. Not because of some religious inspiration, but because I'm out of bed, makeup on, interacting with others. Sort of. I'm there, anyway.
It is also a good way to:
a) show off my baby
b) feel like I did something today
c) show those bastards I'm just as holy as them
d) alleviate bred-in Catholic guilt
(e)secretly make my Dad happy)

And that sums my religious entry for the year. Unless otherwise enticed.

I don't really like discussing religion with people. I don't care what you believe so leave me alone. If you need to criticize my beliefs, fine, but know your shit before you start flinging it. Nothing pisses me off more than an ignoramous with an unbacked opinion and a loud mouth. If you are capable of an indiscriminate conversation then I will do my very best to try and see your point of view. I may learn something and that is a good thing. Hmm... so you worship erasers do you? I see. I'm sure you find it very enlightening. Please explain it to me..etc.

I NEVER discuss politics either. I admit freely that I don't know the first thing about anything. I do a little bit of research before I vote but that's it. I don't know about the war and I don't watch the news. If there's something I think I need to know I'll read Spencer's blog.

Here are my choice words of the day:

"Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote" -Benjamin Franklin

"It is not so much what you believe in that matters, as the way in which you believe it and proceed to translate that belief into action" -Lin Yutang

"Mickey Mouse was a big DOPE" -Jerry, Enemy Mine [1985]

Today's quote:
It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes. –Douglas Adams

I'm quite sure my Grandmother would disagree.

STRESSED

I will not stress. I will not stress. I will not stress.

Immediate stressers:
1. My taxes are a mess for no apparent reason.
2. Futureshop owes me $150 and won't give it back.
3. It's too damn hot.
4. One of my best friends is getting married this month. Before I had a chance to tell her I'm not even sure how in the hell I'm getting there, tonight she asked me to say grace at the reception. Because she really wanted me to be in the wedding (bridesmaid was just not an option right now.) But if I don't want to she'll understand, but she wanted to ask me first. Of course I say! Meanwhile I'm having flashes of the last time I did any kind of public speaking. It was high school. NOT in front of 200 strangers and NOT on the most important day of my best friend's life. WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA SAY? Now I absolutely have to get there.
Reasons:
1. I really want to go.
2. I haven't made it to ANY of my friends' weddings yet.
3. She's the sweetest girl in the whole world.
4. She will be REALLY pissed if I don't.
5. The gifts are way too huge to mail. (not as important, but still a valid reason)
6. She will be REALLY pissed if I don't.

No pressure.
Fuck.

Today's quote:

This is where I felt it the first time. The universe was cocking the fuck-with-me gun. -George, Dead Like Me [2003]

Today's quote:

Buster: I just killed my wife. Is that bad?
Leland: It's alright, these things happen. -Needful Things [1993]

Musical Banter

I think The Cars are terribly underrated. They give a sense of style and uniqueness to the mass selection we clump together under the title of "80's music". I remember when I was a little girl and thought that Ric Ocasek was the ugliest man in the world. Of course this was before I'd ever seen a picture of Keith Richards. Speaking of pock-faces, have you seen Bryan Adams without airbrush? My God he must have gone through hell as an adolescent.

I was very fortunate to have grown up listening to all kinds of music. I mean everything. My Mom listened to everything from Tommy James to Alice Cooper (her all-time favorite) and I was the only kid in grade 2 who's favorite song was Abracadabra. I'd be walking around school singing "Black panties with an angel's face." This was waaay before they started altering classic music so it was politically correct. The first time I was at the bar and they played Abracadabra with the word "touch" instead of "grab" (I wanna reach out and grab ya..) I almost had a shit hemorrhage. I was also dead-set against remakes. Now I've decided they are not all bad. If someone wants to redo a song with their own personal touch that's fine. If they are going to copy it word for word, note for note, it's not. It's already been done asshole, don't waste our time. That's what karaoke is for. What drives me INSANE is when you hear an old CLASSIC song redone, or worse dancersized, and people are going "This new song rocks!" It takes everything I have not to leap across the table and bitch-slap them into next week. It's not very nice, I know, but I can't help it. It's like my lack of patience for really stupid people. Sorry but morons need not apply.

I also spent a great deal of time at my Grandparents' and they played things like English pub music, German drinking songs, Polish drinking songs, Scottish bagpipes, yodelling, Russian, Ukranian, French, every nationality of folk song imagineable, and english parlor songs. My Grandma used to quiz me by making me tell her which country each song she played was from. She'd occasionally throw in things like a Native Indian rain dance, or a bit from a Chinese play just for fun. The same with classical. Mozart, light and airy with lots of notes, Beethoven heavier with melancholy undertones, Handel's Watermusic, imagine you were a king floating down a river, Vivaldi, etc,etc. I also got a history lesson with every song.

Translating German songs was another big one but I hated it so I won't talk about it.

Then there were the musicals/showtunes. Some of my favorite songs are by Rogers and Hammerstein. These seem to be less appreciated by others though. You can't drive through town with your windows down screaming along to "Just You Wait 'Enry 'Iggens, Just You Wait" at the top of your lungs without people staring at you like you're insane. Imagine this. I have the house to myself and I'm cleaning the bedroom so the living room stereo is cranked to the tune of the entire Oklahoma soundtrack. Naturally I'm singing along, don't remember all the words, completely tone-deaf, when halfway through "I Can't Say No" I realize my roommate has come and left and never said anything. Ever.

I also learned about country music. Not like today's, but Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and the like. I never heard Country rock until much later and have to admit it's never done anything for me. Save the occasional song. Twang- not so good.

I feel very fortunate to have had such opportunities. Music is a huge part of who I am and I am proud of that.

Today's quotes:
After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. –Aldous Huxley (1894-1963)

Only sick music makes money today. –Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

Viva la Tim Horton's

Mmmmm. Things I recommend: Go to Tim Horton's and order a 1/2 English Toffee, !/2 French Vanilla. My brother introduced me to them a few years ago and I've yet to meet anyone who's tried them and didn't like them. Even non-coffee drinkers. They are pretty sweet though. On the other hand my bro gets them to throw in an extra teaspoon of sugar. (This may explain why he sometimes speaks in vibrato.) If it tastes a little bitter it could be that they added a bit too much English Toffee. I keep a can of each in my cupboard. Aah, sweet cappuccino delight.




I've decided to include a "quote of the day" with my entries now. Just for shits 'n' giggles. Enjoy.

Today's quote:
A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way. –Mark Twain

To RSVP or not to RSVP...

I'm still debating about whether or not I want to go to my 10 year high school reunion. Obviously I'm not going. But do I want to? Let's see. I'm not rich/famous/skinny, don't have a fabulous job or live in a cool city anymore. Things are good, but not INYOURFACEYOUUGLYPACKOFLOSERS-good. (This is all in high school context of course. I wouldn't want to offend anyone in my immediate home or anything. I love you Pookie.) What I would like is a picture of the people that do show up so I can see how everyone's changed. Maybe I should send a ringer in my place. With a camera. Someone in the Vernon area who feels like tormenting ex-Seaton students. Anybody? Anybody? There's a barbecue. The fact is, when I graduated, my class won the record for the worst school spirit in the history of the school. Maybe no one else will show up either.

I should probably RSVP pretty soon. It would be the polite thing to do. I'll think about it.

That reminds me. Why the hell do we say RSVP? We are anglophones (another word I dislike, but not as much as francophone.)

Words I dislike:
francophone
anglophone
mongoloid
twiddle
piddle
tinkle
baboon
trousers
slacks(AAAH!)
honky-tonk
horny
concientious
tumbler (as in cup)

Words I like:
rapture
petri (but you have to say it like they do on Land Before Time- PEEE-TREE!)
periwinkle
sneak-thievery
plethora
goo
benevolent
spicy
enamoured
hoodwink
ocean
satiate
tease
tickle
dewy
apoplectic
swizzle

Words that sound misleading:
octagenarian
wet-nurse
tumbler (as in cup)
render

Kitten Smitten

If I was really, really rich and I could have any business/hobby I wanted I would have a kitten-farm. Keep in mind if I can afford this kitten-farm I can afford to pay someone else to keep it clean. It sounds kind of like a bad thing, like a work camp or an ant farm or even a puppy farm (very bad). But these kittens would be very happy. They wouldn't have to work the fields, break rocks on a chain gang, or be sent away to live with abusive slavedrivers. They would all live with me forever! There would be a full time vet aboard the staff and they (the kittens) would all be spayed or neutered. We have to be realistic here. People would be dropping off their strays all over the place, we can't have them all breeding. It would be like my own private SPCA for cats, only none would be put down (unless they were really sick)and there wouldn't be that horrid smell (dogs and medicine). You know in the 80's movies when someone won a million dollars they'd roll all over the bed in it and throw it in the air, happier than all hell, it would be just like that. Only instead of money it would be kittens! Ahh.. ..kitten paradise. I tried to bring home 4 ADORABLE kittens from my Dad's last week but Ken-the-Meanie wouldn't let me. How oh how will I ever get it started? I figure if I start with the kittens, the really, really rich part will come later.

I am starting a list of people/companies/Satan's minions who royally piss me off.
So far I've got:

Revenue Canada (obviously)
Columbia House (can't they just LEAVE ME ALONE?!)
Grolier (but not enough to end the relationship)
Futureshop Online (progressively worsening)
London Drugs Customer Service Desk (Victoria)
High Prairie Radioshack (total assholes, don't even let me get started)
Any bookstore employee who looks at me like I'm making up a title when they don't have the book I want!
Most banks at some point or another (This seems to be like a life long penance for something I did long ago, or haven't yet done. Resistance is futile.)
People who yak loudly on a cellphone on a bus.

It occurs to me that I am starting to sound like a crotchety old man. Bah!

Meow, I said

Yesterday my baby, Celia, was 4 months old. A lady at the store thought I was still pregnant. I wanted to die.

Today Celia ate rice cereal for the first time and she was all excited and I was all proud. Now yesterday is nothing. Everything is nothing. Except me and my baby girl alone in the kitchen, laughing and eating rice cereal.

In hindsight I wasn't wearing very flattering clothes.


Sometimes I call Celia "Kitten" and Kitten "Baby" I hope I don't cause any permanent damage.
Maybe Celia's first word will be "Meow." That would be cool.
I suppose if Celia starts pooping in the sandbox that wouldn't be so cool. But it would be funny.
The first time.

Not a particularly frabjous day.

Well Revenue Canada hasn't screwed up my life enough, apparently. First the GST, then the child tax credit, now my EI (maternity leave). No wonder people go crazy and blow shit up. A few years ago, in Kelowna B.C. I think, an eighty year old man walked into ICBC (insurance company) stood on a chair, dropped his pants, and took a crap in the reception area. When I heard this all I could say was "Good for him!" This is the best example of stress release I've heard of. We all want to do something like that at one point or another when dealing with those petty annoyances life presents us far too often. Insurance, taxes, department of motor vehicles, shoddy customer service, etc,etc. Anyways, regarding the octagenarian-pooper, they kept the surveilance tape for training purposes. It almost makes me want to apply for a job there. Almost.

We just got back from a fantastic albeit low-keyed vacation. I was nearly devoid of stress. Okay that's not true, but vacation stress and regular stress are somehow completely different. Near the end of the vacation I was getting stressed out thinking about the regular stress I would have once I returned home. I must be mental. Once I got home, however, I realized I had nothing to look forward to. I've been looking forward to this trip or that trip or some event for so long that I was depressed to think I have nothing else to prepare for. How tragic that I can't just be happy in the now. I've decided this is something I need to work on if I am to have a happy and fulfilling life. I'm just not sure how. It's either that or I start decorating for Christmas. Another thing I tricked myself into thinking was once I returned home summer would be over. What the??? I've wasted so much of my life thinking if only I had this, if only I lived there, then everything would be better and I'd be happy. I keep thinking I want to move away from here. But where would I go? Every place I've lived proved somehow unsatisfying eventually. Either I was trying to escape a broken heart, I hated my friends, I was lonely, I was broke, or I was too far away from everything. Basically I was sad. Now I am very happy with my life, I just hate where I live. I'm kind of afraid if I move and I am still not happy then it will prove I am somehow broken...

I once met a guy at a party who wrote music to accompany The Jabberwocky and played it for us on his guitar. "O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" Very cool.