House sitting is a pretty funny business to be in. We have been in many different types of places. But I swear to god, some of these houses should come with manuals, especially for the kitchen. I feel like there should be some sort of Feng shui for kitchens, a universal outline so one can walk into any kitchen anywhere and know where to find anything. So ya, I just spent 20 minutes looking for a cheese grater and went through every drawer trying to find a pan only to find it hanging from the ceiling…There must be some sort of psychological conclusions one can make about people because of the layout of their kitchen. I will write a manual one day about what poorly organized kitchen mean to your brain titled “If your colander is not located in this cupboard, you are fucked up.”

I went to get some dvds from my favourite video store in Almonte (ok the only video store in Almonte). They love me there, as I am pretty sure I pay their rent on my late fees alone. But this time when I went in the lady working behind the desk was on the phone and she didn’t seemed phased there were about three customers in the shop the size of shoe box, listening to her conversation. I started looking for a movie and of course, eavesdropping at the same time. She was talking to a guy who had just got out of jail (I think, or maybe rehab). She said if he came around here there would be lot’s of heat on him (cops?). He hadn’t come to visit her family because they were enablers (drugs? drinking?). The girl didn’t do something anymore, except just before bed (smoking pot?). I picked a movie but was so interested in the conversation I decided to look for another one. It was so hilarious! Small town soap opera exposed! I wished she had popped some popcorn so I could have just sat there listening to her, creepily staring at her and getting all caught up on her life’s gossip. I ended up with the movies Mental and Seven Psychopaths…just sayin’

Isn’t everyone done with hockey yet? It’s summer! Hockey should be over. I have no patience for it anyways when it’s two big American teams fighting for the cup. Especially when one has a ridiculously racist emblem that makes me cringe every time I see it. How does this happen? Who just thought, hey let’s take the most stereotypical picture of an Aboriginal we can think of, add some feathers and call the team the Blackhawks. It would be like taking a picture of Jackie Chan doing kung fu while holding chopsticks and calling the team the Yellow Samurais. Not ok right?! Right… 

And when Hennie is watching hockey and I get really bored I just repeat what the announcers say in a smutty voice… how can you not when they say things like “he just slipped that through the crease” or “he had a good grip on the shaft of his stick”? Ok I am not sure I have heard the last one…but you get my point.

I saw a guy drive by in a old Cavalier car with the words Cavalier painted right onto the car! Like he was advertising he owned the cheapest car known to mankind! I wish I had thought of that. Our last car we named Golden Leprosy because of the rust problem, we should have written it right on there so people knew how special it really was. We should celebrate crappy cars just as much as the fancy expensive ones…they have so much more character. 

I tried a dress on Ardene’s this week (because apparently they make clothes now and not just headbands). I knew when I walked in that I wouldn’t fit into anything but I tried anyhow. The dress looked like a shirt attached to a skirt but when I put it on the shirt part only covered about half of “the girls” so it didn’t work. The pre-pubescent thirteen year old girl running the change rooms asked me if it was a size issue. It most definitely was. They did not make clothes in Ardene big enough to cover my chest. She looked confused and I walked away. When did clothes stop getting made for women with chests and possibly football player shoulders? I tried on a summer dress earlier this year with the fun crinkle material around the chest that many summer dresses have. When I looked in the mirror my chest resembled what smuggling weapons of mass destruction in a dress would look like.

I bought a Shticky. Probably because I am a total whore to marketing. But it is soooo awesome! There will never be one piece of lint or cat hair on me ever again. It’s like finding the perfect gadget to live in OCD paradise for the rest of your life. I have used it an uncomfortable amount of times since purchasing it. I recommend everyone owns one and comes to the compulsive dark side. It is also reusable and much more environmental then tape lint rollers. Ok, I swear, that’s all I will ever say about it ever again! Excuse me while I so Shticky myself…