You know when someone asks what kind of music you like and you say anything, that you like all types of music. And then they put on John Mayer and you regret saying you liked anything and you wished you had been more specific. Yeah that happened. 

Did you know Tina Turner has a song called Nutbush city limits? Who thought of that? Why not call it ball shrub city limits or maybe testicle nest city limits? What the hell Tina? I will blame that terrible decision on Ike’s involvement on that album. 

Sometimes when Hennie is doing his school work I watch tv online with giant headphones on. I often wonder how special I look while watching intense episodes of Sons of Anarchy. The last episode I watched I was laughing maniacally at Gemma’s antics, yelling at Tara for making bad decisions, cheering when they outwit the cops and tearing up a little and fist pumping the air when the club reunites. I wonder if Hennie watches me and it makes me look totally crazy because it’s all out of context. He should video tape it, that would be good times.  

I’ve been watching this show called “Cracked.” It’s a cop show that deals with mental health. I have seen about 6 episodes. I was watching it with my Mom and I saw a Canadian actor and went wow, maybe this show is Canadian? My Mom looked at me and said, um ya? The cops are dressed like our cops, the CN tower is in the skyline  and the license plates are from Ontario. How did I miss that? And then as soon as I knew it was Canadian I became a little bit more critical of it, which is terrible! There was this one scene where the chief of police came into the room talking, dropped her pen and then awkwardly bent down to pick it up while still talking. It was so distracting! Why did they not re-shoot that scene? She dropped her fucking pen! Scrunched down to get it, her voice went weird when she was bending over and then she got back up. Yeah Canadian television. Omg this episode is all about hockey, dammit, so obviously Canadian. 

Ben and I are watching The Voice. Cee-lo just told someone that their song was hype, dope and fresh. I challenged Ben to say that to someone tomorrow without sounding like a total fucking moron. 

I drove by Gemmill Park yesterday and it was packed full of people. I thought it may be the annual track and field day (I don’t think it actually was). But my stomach turned into a knot, I started feeling nauseous and I wanted to drive by as quickly as I could. Track and field day was always the chubby kids’ worst nightmare. And also the worst nightmare for the artsy students, nerds and general non-atheletes. It was a horrendous day where the athletic were praised and everyone else was paraded around to look like total out of shape failures. I remember once, doing the 100 metre race, thinking I was running incredibly Donavon Bailey fast, only to realize I was definitely coming in last. Then I heard from the sidelines my Dad yell “Ruuuunn Forest Ruuuunnn.” I think I started laughing and crying at the same time. It was the best thing he could have yelled, just to make a mild comedy out of my running ability. It was at least nice I came from a family of non-athletes and was heartily supported as such. It was almost as fun as when my Dad told my soccer coach, who was yelling at me more than usual, to fuck off. Just plain and simple. Sure my daughter is singing songs, doing semi cart wheels and doing stand up comedy on the field but she’s 12 and it’s soccer, so fuck off. God bless my Dad. Just like my sister before me, who faked sprained ankles every gym class, I faked asthma attacks every time we had to run laps. A family that hates participating in sports together, stays together.

I just bought a fancy lipstick from Sephora, maybe to help with my Gemma costume, but because of the cost, I will wear it everyday for at least a month. But the lipstick is so fancy I couldn’t figure out how to open it! After removing it from the box, I realized it did not resemble a lipstick at all. There was a silver button but no lid. Twenty minutes late of pulling, twisting and banging it on the dresser I figured out how to open it. I guess Sephora is too fancy for me, I get it. As I was leaving the store I sprayed their fancy expensive perfume from NYC all over me to take as a free gift for my purchase. It wasn’t until the next store that the horrible scent I kept smelling at Bayshore was indeed me. I went to The Bay to cover is up with something else and ended up just totally reeking of disgusting half masked gross ass perfume. By the time I got home I was almost gagging. Will now have to wash all those clothes. Dammit Sephora. 

 Omg I am soooooo sick of Tina Turner. I have been listening to her 2 cassettes every time I drive anywhere and believe me, I get around. I love Tina and she has some amazing songs, like when I am driving around with my kid and we stop mid sentence to belt out “What’s Love Got to do With it” and when she sings Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” I stop everything I am doing to sing. And I will always love “Proud Mary”, but let’s be honest here, some of her other songs are really terrible. “Private Dancer” is the worst song ever. It has no flow, is kind of creepy and she yells about taking American Express in the middle of the song, which makes me wonder how a private dancer accepts credit cards…and why American Express? The fees on that card is outrageous! Tina if you want to make millions and live by the sea, I would take cash, store it in a shoe box and leave the government and banks out of it. Ya like Tina doesn’t know how to make a million bucks. I feel like I’m becoming a Tina Turner officinado and I am not comfortable with it. I always have all the songs stuck in my head too, every where I go. Before bed last night I sang Hennie a 30 second montage of one lines of all the new Tina Turner songs I completely know by heart. I almost feel like naming the car Tina, both are classic, been through hard times but overcome, I don’t know, this is a stretch. 

Remember when going to parties was all about drinking as much as you could? It was like the point of the party was to get drunk, dance, make an ass of yourself and then spend the next day saying you will never do that ever again? I feel like I am getting older when the emphasis of the party moves from shots to photo shots. People aren’t encouraging people to drink, they are encouraging people to take as many pictures of themselves, with others, as possible. My first thought is I must get pictures to a) show the world how good I scrub up and b) to prove to Facebook that I do indeed have a social life and cool friends. And nothing beats a costume party. There were a few people dressed in drag, well one as Bowie from the Labyrinth, but I will just throw him into this category. People were still streaming in the door when I ran over to Rob and told him I had just seen the most amazing drag costume ever. He casually looked behind me to tell me that the person I was referring to was actually a woman, so it would probably be best to not make conversation about her amazing drag costume. I guess there is a way for things to go wrong at a costume party…terribly wrong. But omg did I look amazing!!! People who knew the show thought the costume was amazing!! Others who hadn’t seen the show were not people I wanted to socialize with so it repelled them nicely. When someone came and asked what I was dressed as, I said if they didn’t know, it didn’t matter. Ya I am an SOA snob, what of it? My hair was amazing!!!! It was so perfect!!!! I had my hair sprayed black, blond and brown extensions put in and I looked like a celebrity. I told Rachelle, when I got to her place, that after the party we needed to find a bar where I could become a country music sensation because my hair was that amazing! I wished I had gone somewhere to sing because the hair was crying out for me to belt out a tune. I could have even sang one of the songs that Gemma sings on the SOA soundtrack!! Oh costume party regrets…life is so tough. 

Wow that Russell Brand video of him pushing for a global revolution is amazing! I have removed my mental douche bag status for that man and am now allowing him to climb the status ladder in my head. Onward and upward Russell, onward and upward. Russell  Brand for British Prime Minister! 

I was standing in line at Wal-Mart (not my normal shopping place but I was working with a kid and it was the only place open). The lady in front of me was telling the dude cashier all about the cake she was making and that she was using flax instead of eggs! I was like, omg this should be good. The burly cashier asked what flax was. Well played sir, I was hoping he would have said, who gives a shit but what’s flax is also a response that signals he doesn’t give a shit. She explained about allergens in schools, especially to eggs. The cashier buddy was like people are allergic to eggs? I don’t think so. She tried to convey to him how amazing flax was and finally he said, I just would want eggs in my cake. What was the lady thinking starting a conversation about flax with a cashier at Wal-Mart? Know your audience people! He didn’t give a shit and he liked eggs, moving on.

Hennie had to get a tooth out today. I was in the room when they were telling him that they were giving him a crazy cocktail including fentanol. As soon as they said it my eyes popped and on cue, a lady walked through the door and handed me the bill that we had to pay $1100 for a 20 mins. tooth extraction! In my head I thought it would be a few hundred dollars but apparently I was unaware of what dentist’s make. I walked out of the office, called my mother and told her I was heading to dental school. I also came back in and told Hennie he was not allowed to take any of the narcotics because we needed to sell them on the street in order to pay for the surgery. The nurse looked at me with her eyebrows raised. I was just about to say I was just kidding when Hennie says that I would be a great dealer. Ah well. Dear nurse, we will not sell the percocets prescribed. I swear! Or will we…we might.

I have decided, after watching a million hours of The Voice, I want to be on the show. But I am missing something crucial. The ultimate sob story. There is a fine art to this. It should be sad enough to cry but not so tragic that you sob. You must be rising above an illness or doing it for someone that has died. Either way it has to be good. I was trying to figure out what my The Voice audition would look like. Carson Daly would sound concerned and say…Chubby girl, raised in small town to crippled and sarcastic parents and a sister that once broke her arm (or sprained it). She suffered from mathematical retardation and left the church choir as a teenager to become a freakish, emo goth. She suffered from a British form of alcoholism for a few years just before wasting four years on a degree that led to no career. Working 9 jobs at the same time she eventually had a nervous breakdown of massive proportions and turned to music as her inspiration. She was once in a band for 2 hours but they eventually broke up when the only other member moved out west. Let’s listen…

I have a habit of breaking into the song “Conga” randomly. I have explained it to Hennie as my Gloria Estefan tourettes. It’s the most fun problem to deal with ever. You never know when a conga party will start.  

I don’t know why, but I absolutely cannot work an Xbox. I get all excited because I am home by myself, I decide I am going to rent a movie from the magic Xbox and three hours later when Hennie get’s home he finds me huddled in a ball on the floor because I went back and forth between the same two screens for an hour and couldn’t figure out how to select the movie. I don’t know when I became technologically challenged, but it has happened. We never really watch movies off of the Xbox anyways. We watch a million trailers and always feel like we have watched the whole movie so we never end up renting anything. 

I finished the Sylvia Day Crossfire smut trilogy in a week. I feel a bit dirty, a bit tired, sexually inadequate and that I wish I was a millionaire. Well that’s it. Good times. Back to the real world “sigh”.  

Ok so can I return to The Voice again…has Christina had work done? Her face looks different, like weird different. I know she lost weight but even I know there is no way your nose can lose pounds, that’s been surgically helped my friends. And I know the show is all about product placement, excuse me while I sip my Starbucks million-words-later-frappucino, but driving the contestants to the studio in a Kia is pretty dumb. You mean they aren’t in the building during the show? Are they just hanging in the car waiting for the camera to tell them to go? Oh Kia, Starbucks is a tiny bit subtle but a car, it’s hard to just shove that into the frame.  

Jack fm graces the radio at my parent’s house more often then not. And that’s all good and fine because they play some rocking tunes but after 9am it turns into Jesus radio. Which is really stressful when you run upstairs for a snack and it’s dark and there is a voice from the corner telling me I am a sinner and going to hell. It’s terrifying actually. Come on Jack, what happened to Rod the bod and Aretha, angry Jesus man is much less fun to listen too, especially at night…in the dark. 

Ok so I guess everyone has heard the news. It’s devastating, upsetting and a real let down. I was shocked and inconsolable. Charlie Hunnam will not be playing Christian Grey in Fifty Shades. It’s so sad. I was already way too pumped to see Charlie bring it as an S&M sex fiend but now I think I have come to terms with it. He is too good for Christian Grey. Charlie Hunnam is such an amazing actor, I think he ran the risk of making this his Showgirls, a possible career killer. And that would have been worse. It would have killed Jax Teller’s legacy and would have turned Charlie into just a Hollywood penis making bad decisions. *Sigh* I guess it wasn’t meant to be. It would have blown too many people’s minds, mainly mine. But I’m over it. I mourned the loss by staying up way too late getting up to date with the new season of Sons of Anarchy. Did I mention I am going to a Halloween party as Gemma? I had a busy bee meltdown the other day when I couldn’t find my hooker boots but thank god, I found them. They are an integral part of the costume. I will be the most amazing Gemma ever! I will make Gemma proud! 

I just went to Spirit of Halloween with my kid and I forgot that the spirit of Halloween is to dress as slutty as possible in  any costume you wear! Slutty nurse, slutty cougar, slutty police. The costumes there were outrageous! But I have never been one to buy costumes, oh no. I have an eclectic enough cupboard full of clothes that I can usually whip together something pretty quickly. Slutty biker chick was easy for me to figure out. My favourite outfit I saw at the shop tonight was Robin Thicke’s outfit from the infamous Miley Cyrus VMA debacle and it was called the twerk suit. So awesome.  

I finally found cassettes in a second hand shop! There was about 10, most of which were terrible but I did manage to score 2 Tina Turner tapes and an REM one. I am pretty sure I will never listen to the REM one because, in my opinion, they were the most overly played band of the nineties but maybe on occasion I will be able to tolerate Shiny Happy People. I was so excited to find tapes, especially Tina! I was with my kid, who at 17, had only seen a cassette like once before. I felt like my car was turning into a museum for kids. Yes, there is no keychain that unlocks the car, I will do it manually. Yes that is a cassette player, for cassettes. Pass me the Tina Turner tape. You don’t know Tina Turner? Sacrilegious! The drink holder pops out from under the stereo, cool eh? I was shocked when my kid did not join in with me singing Proud Mary, Disco Inferno and What’s love got to do with it. Come on! I’m not that old, am I? On my way home I was seriously blasting the tunes only to be watched by a guy driving next to me as I did the dance moves for Rollin on a river, while driving of course. I’ve done a lot of stupid things while driving, but being watched while doing actual Tina moves to a Tina song, well that’s pretty fucking awesome. Ugh I just googled it and I found a video of kids doing the dance as a dance recital, gag. Not okay, that’s adult dancing honey pies. 

The two best questions asked at the cafe today…

Girl – Do you know how many calories are in my mocha? 

Me- A lot? 

Girl – Oh. 

Me – Would you liked whipped cream on it?

Girl – Yes!

and

What’s the difference between a latte and a flavoured latte? I tried so hard not to respond sarcastically, but I might have come off as just that…flavour perhaps?!

I totally scored a weird, homemade wooden totem carving out of someone’s garbage in China Town west (Kanata Lakes). It is the weirdest looking thing I have ever seen but I love it and I knew I would be comfortable garbage diving, in front of my kid, in a nice neighborhood for it. Never too classy.  

I’m totally exhausted. I am reading Bared to You, another smut trilogy and it just makes me exhausted! They just have so much sex. I feel I need a nap after each chapter. There is no way you can do that, so many times, for that long and not need to stop for a sandwich or something. Or as if no one is getting cramps or pulling muscles. How come no one has thrown their back out? I need to write old people porn. He was about to insert his man rocket into her lady cave when he hit he floor because his sciatic nerve seized. After she massaged where it hurt for 15 minutes, they forgot what they were doing and fell asleep. The end.  

Doesn’t it sound weird when people say they like reading Can Lit? It feels weird, like it’s a terrible cop out for an acronym. Every time someone says it I think Clit would be the better term and then quickly realize it would also in fact be the worst. Support Canada’s Clit! There I said it. 

Being in the big city of Toronto always sternly reminds me of how much of a small town gal I am. Like I very patiently wait for the little man to tell me when cross the street for fear of getting killed by maniacal taxi drivers. Last time I was here I witnessed two car accidents in one day. If you can’t trust the lit up man telling you it’s safe, who can you trust? I also distinctly smell urine at almost every corner, which is my main association with this dirty, pee covered city.  

We got to Toronto and I was feeling good. I have just lost a ton of weight and was wearing the tightest jeans known to mankind. I felt like my hair actually looked more alert and I was wearing my sexy boots. I walked into the hotel thinking, fuck I look good. Then the Air Italia flight attendants filed in to reception and I was like COME ON! What are the chances a line of female Italian models come in and stand next to me?! Fuck off. How do you even walk in heels like that let alone work in them? Gahh.

I love being in hotels! So exciting! I am right near the ice machine, triple exciting! I am drinking everything in this room over ice…because I can! I feel so Don Draper swirling around the water on the rocks, from my ice bucket. I have to stay up late just to experience hanging out in the hotel room. I feel very rock and roll. I just washed a sweater dress in the tub because I didn’t feel like finding the washing machines…ROCK and ROLL! It’s freezing in here but I don’t know how to change the temperature thingy and I didn’t bring a sweater because I wasn’t aware I was going to Antarctica this weekend. Rock and roll! There is a couch and a chair in here! And a bed! Just for me! I feel like I should invite people up here just to hang out! For a rock and roll party! There is a Second City book in my hotel room too, which is awesome. They totally saw me coming. When I leave I am going to remove the Bible and Book of Mormon (if you can believe that’s here, just missing some L. Ron Hubbard literature to cover the bases, maybe a person that knocks on my door to give me the Jehovah’s Witness experience too) and put the Second City book in the drawer instead. Just to be all crazy and whatnot. Did you know L. Ron Hubbard’s first name is Lafayette? No wonder he changed it to L. Omg I better not start this google train again. I once wasted hours reading about Scientology. So much so that I missed half a day. I just went into a google worm hole that was both odd and fascinating. I couldn’t look away, a bit like watching a train wreck. I have not been able to watch a Tom Cruise movie since, or listen to Beck.  

I think I was hit on by a young Irish waiter tonight. He was being subtle but I was on to him. I think he might have decided I was amazing when my friend said, while holding the ketchup bottle, that she had tried to squirt it but it went everywhere and then I yelled that’s what he said. He commended me on bringing the conversation right down but he secretly thought I was awesome. Thanks for the innocent flirt buddy, too bad you were like 10 years younger than me and had an accent that reminded me of alcoholism and U2. 

1:45am – Fire alarm! Say what? What drunk asshole decided to light a cigarette in the stairwell this year? Well all of downtown Toronto knows I wear a “What Would Gemma do?” t-shirt to bed. I accept that. Marching down 7 flights of stairs is one thing, but coming back up those same stairs at 2am is a total full body workout! It totally wakes you up! I now am ready for breakfast and probably won’t be able to go back to sleep (just kidding, I can always go back to sleep). What would Gemma have done in this situation? She would probably have been the one lighting up in the stairwell but if she wasn’t, I like to think she would have shot the people who were and went back to bed, while looking fierce and fantastic. I should have done that. 

I was standing at the booth today at the CHFA when I realized Sara was in front of me talking to Udo! The Udo from Udo’s oil!! I was listening to Sara tell him how healthy she was because of his products.  I was guzzling a free beer someone had just passed me and I decided it wasn’t the best time to get into a health conversation with Mr. Udo himself. Well I had been alcohol free for over a month and today I killed it. Someone waved free champagne and beer in front of me and I crumbled! Dammit! I am weak! After two drinks I was totally retarded and it was awesome. Dear diet, sorry about that, but if felt right.  

I think I just ran into a famous British punk band in the elevator at the hotel! I walked into the elevator holding 3, 1 litre water bottles because I am seriously dehydrated and the water tastes like ass at the hotel. The guy says in a British accent that he is terribly thirsty all of a sudden. Is it because of my enticing water bottles I ask and then he says something about Fiji water and decide they aren’t a punk band because what punk band would talk specifically about a brand of water? A lame one, that’s who. Like ya, I am in a punk band and I particularly like the taste of the artesian water from Fiji. Hmm yes. They are definitely in a band though. They came with music equipment and had crazy hair, so they are in a band. So I walked by the CBC building this morning and the same dudes I rode the elevator with were coming out of the building!! Fuckkk who are they?? 

Damn you The Voice. I just cry through the whole thing. Stupid show. 

Ya, I’m cruising around Toronto in my brand new Toyota Corolla. Well for 24 hours it’s mine. It smells like wet dog but fuck it, it handles well. 

Ok remember when I said earlier that I love staying hotels? I think I need to specify. I like staying in nice hotels, especially when it is on someone else’s dime. So Renaissance downtown Toronto was awesome. The Monte Carlo Inn in Markham was not. Not just because when I went to go find toothpaste in the hotel I had to pay $7 for it in the vending machine. Also not because next to the toothpaste in the vending machine was a package of “Rough Rider” lubricated condoms which seemed weird and too close to the toothpaste. But more so because of the smell of very stale, old person urine that my bathroom smelled of. It was so bad I kept my shoes on, in the bathroom. It was so bad that I started thinking the floor was sticky, that someone had just decided to pee everywhere and then let it ferment. Anyhoo, I have fond smells of Markham. Also the bed was so incredibly squeaky that if anyone had indeed purchased the Rough Riders everyone on the floor would have heard it.

I had a million hours to kill today before my train and after getting stuck in downtown Toronto traffic for awhile and then Siri getting all upset because there was construction, I decided to ditch the car and tour around…with my luggage. I don’t have a problem killing loads of time because I can just go read but it’s harder, when you are killing time in public and you are reading a very well known smutty book. Sitting in a pub in the corner I laid it flat so no one could see. I didn’t even bother bringing it out in Starbucks, too snobby. At the train station some dude’s kid kept looking at the pages and I wanted to warn them but I figured they would just totally figure it out on their own. They should be watching their own damed children. Every time a good part started I would raise the book to see it closer and then quickly realize I was exposing my reading choice to all of Union station. 

You know how much of a yuppy douche I am? I used my Starbucks find app on my phone in Markham to get my Americano this am. Douche.

You know how everyone now collects vinyl now. It’s the hip thing to do, you damned hipsters. Well I am taking it a level further. I am going to bring back the cassette tape. Mark my words, once my collection grows and I get mint condition cassettes in their original case, I too will be as cool as the hipsters. I may even start making mixed tapes for my car. Eeeeee mixed tapes!! That’s all I want for Christmas everyone, just make me mixed tapes! 

I just got my Moist tickets for Montreal!!! Omg we jump from the cassette driven eighties to the Canadian music of the nineties! I am so nostalgic and old! Anyways, I convinced Rachelle to go with me. There weren’t exactly a line up of people that wanted to go but whatever, I am so excited!! I used to be a crazy Moist super fan in high school. I went to all their concerts, met them at least three times and CRIED the first time I met them at Edgefest! Like a starstruck little groupie in the making, I made a total arse of myself. No one cries over Canadian bands ever. Oh but I did. I used to insist on wearing my Moist t-shirt to every picture day at school and family get together to promote my cause. Like I NEEDED to be a Moist groupie and I would let everyone know. My screen name online, during the ICQ messenger days, was Moistgal which looking back was like the most non discreet dirtiest name I could have ever had. But I only had eyes for the band so I never put together, that when I grew up, it could also be my future porn name. My Aunt used to bug me about it and I would be like, it’s a band!! And besides Auntie, your screen name is Herb girl which in my books is code for drug dealer so I think we are even. 

What is with frogs? It’s like they are all part of a cult and when it rains they drink the metaphorical purple kool-aid and they congregate on the road and jump right into the way of every car. They suicide bomb themselves onto to the grill of my car and it stresses me out. It is a terrifying, swervy, stressful trip home when it rains. Hey frogs, pull yourselves together! Cut ties with your cult leader and stay in the damned grass!

I have an inkling that one of the post men in Carleton Place is a retired 70’s porn star. He had dusty blonde hair, wears short shorts and is very comfortable showing a ridiculous amount of chest hair. He also seems to know all the women in town. Like they remember him from classic smut flicks and he knows it. Whenever I see him my head is filled with terrible 70’s porn music and his strut syncs to the beat. Dear Dirk, thanks for adding a little bit of vintage porn into my day, it means a lot.

Is it just me or is every car mechanic’s waiting room decor that terrible cottage wood paneling? It’s so man decorated. There are some ancient magazines, a calendar on the wall, some beige 80’s furniture and it it so dirty. It screams “decor by the mechanic dudes,” a place where no woman has ever added accents of colour or became so bothered by the dust that they cleaned it. It’s a public man cave with no effort to add pizazz to the space or excitement. It’s perfectly decorated to be the waiting room for bad news. That noise you heard in your car? Ya, that’s going to cost you $800 and you think, wow, this room is so bleak it’s a perfect space to hate the world in. Fuck that creepy wood paneling.  

We house sat recently next to someone who we may have nicknamed the crazy lady. Her main communication was with her dog, she had a squinty eye and she was hard to get away from in a conversation. When we were staying at the house next to her, Hennie accidentally decided to yell to me across the house that “THE CRAZY LADY WAS TALKING TO THE NEIGHBOUR!” I ran over to tell him he was standing in front of an open window and that she had heard all of that. And that I hoped she didn’t kill us in our sleep. She came into a shop I work at the other day and I was like wow, in the daylight she looks like an ex-communicated pirate. And kind of sounds like one! I knew she reminded me of something. Ah well. We are no longer her neighbour and no longer have to sprint to the car when she is out on her lawn, hazaa. 

So I have lost my faith in humanity. I parked in the parking place closest to the door as I was helping my little brother move into his apartment in Ottawa. I had my Dad stand by the car with my keys for half an hour as I ran stuff into the apartment, in case someone needed the space. My Dad was getting tired, so he left. I ran one bin up to my brother’s apartment and when I came down there was a by-law officer standing with a ragged looking red head and he was writing me a ticket. He says, oh there she is. I am like oh I was just up there a few minutes! Helping my brother move in! I will move right now! And the by-law officer says to the red head that it’s up to her wether I still get ticketed. She looks at me and says, ya, this happens all the time, ticket her. I was shocked! What kind of shit head wishes a parking ticket on someone? How sad is your life when you become a parking nazi? I was so mad I couldn’t even look at her. I was seeing red, so I started walking to the car, because I thought, well if I’m getting this stupid fucking ticket then I am going to go out in a blaze of glory with a high speed mother fucking car chase. In my Toyota Yaris. I stopped at the door when he started to walk over, because he was obviously on to me. I grabbed the ticket, threw it in the car and as I shut the door said go fuck yourself, into an open window, so I hoped she got the memo. When I saw the ticket was for $60 I quickly called Ben, told her the red head in his parking lot right now was a fucking %^&$&* and that I was wondering if he could slash her tires. What a bitch. Ok, I am done. For real! I have never sworn so much in my life. 

I just took a large dog for a walk at a place we are house sitting. Well he took me for a walk. I thought I should walk fast because this big dog needs lots of exercise but instead it made him pull harder. I was flying behind him as he tore down the street, gripping the leash with full force. A car passed so I made it look like I was leisurely jogging and that my fitness level allowed this speed. I smiled and waved at the person sitting on their front porch but was terrified on the inside that I would trip, and the dog would drag my lifeless body home.

Well the Baptist Church wins the eager beaver award. We are house sitting in the church golden triangle in Almonte and after taking the dog for a walk, only the Baptist’s are getting their shit together before 9am. Good job, Jeebus is pleased. 

I don’t think I should receive the Aldo e-mails anymore. I can be having the craziest busy days ever and be running around like a mad man (most of my days) and then I see there is a 30% off sale at Aldo and my world stops and I need to check it out. Because 30% off shoes is a bid deal! I flip through them all quickly, decide that I should really try on shoes before buying them and then delete the e-mail. Sometimes I check out the purses on sale too, but I never buy anything. Aldo, the official time waster of choice. 

I was in Starbucks the other day and got stuck behind someone who’s order was a small essay. It sounded something like…double tall, half caf, skinny, triple macchiato, chippity tip, extra caramel, extra hot, shot of heroine….it just went on and on! Even the lady behind was like, what is that alien jibberish she is speaking?! I walked up and asked for my SMALL black Americano (because I don’t give into the Starbucks speak) and left, 15 minutes later then expected due to the short story of an order before me. 

I am cleaning out my closet and getting rid of stuff. I will forever be vigilant about giving away purses. Many years ago my parents asked me to collect some things we could donate to the church bazaar. And being the good samaritan I am I got a bunch of old clothes and purses together. That evening my Dad came home and said, for future, when donating purses to church bazaars or anywhere, you should try and remove all the condoms, papers and roaches first. That would be great.  

This photo is here for no reason. Enjoy. Gargantu-cat.