Controversy! I feel like I’m relevant! Like people care so much about what I say that they react! Perhaps like a celebrity! I feel like Britney Spears with no underwear getting out of a car awkwardly! Alert! I have offended! For I have stirred up emotional reaction with my witty observations…I finally received hate mail. I have made it to the big time. I will be signing autographs in my living room, well, anytime.

I was called a socialist fascist! Wow, let me go dust off my political science degree to respond to that. I feel like I was just called Jack Layton and Hitler all in the same sentence which doesn’t work.  Are you calling me China? Obama as viewed by Republican Americans? I don’t know but I think this is a very serious political conversation I would like to have over some fair trade, organic coffee in a co-operative cafe somewhere that we could then take over as our own and reap the capital benefits from? Am I getting it yet? Probably not. Oh well. For whatever it’s worth I am not a socialist fascist…I’m assuming you maybe meant yuppy capitalist? Champagne socialist? All of which don’t apply because they mean you have money…which I don’t… 

Let me explain myself. If I am coming across as a judgmental asshole in all my blogs try reading them with Jerry Seinfeld’s voice and say “what’s that about?” after all my points. I am merely sharing my amusing observations and questions that I playfully enjoy on a daily basis. I’m trying to go for the David Sedaris thing. I don’t think by nature I’m angry or a “stuck up and pretentious piece of shit” but if I am I wish one of my many friends or  family members COULD HAVE TOLD ME! I feel like I’ve had a personality booger hanging out of one of my nostrils my whole life and no one told me! 

 I hope I am jokingly observing myself just as much as others! It sounds like I need to turn up the self deprecating a bit more and turn down the quirky observational humour. 

Or I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my blog and no one, I repeat, no one is forced to read it. And if you are I suggest you talk to a law authority about that, that is fucked up. 

What the hell are people doing at the Carleton Place Tim Horton’s parking lot all hours of the day? There are always groups of people that congregate there and everyone seems to know each other. It’s like a park for adults, who are gainfully unemployed and enjoy the rich taste of disgusting, cheap coffee. Maybe it’s like parking lot Fun Haven. There are different stations of people and you move around depending on what you feel like chatting about. And your reward at the end is a supersize coffee that tastes like ass and a doughnut that goes right to your hips. Bless Carleton Place right? 

Walking through this town is so amusing. I walked down main street yesterday and got more second hand smoke from cigarettes and joints then I did at Bluesfest. People watching in CP is the best. I like to play spot the drug dealer, it’s like where’s Waldo for small towns but way more seedy. In Carleton Place people feel it’s their right to grocery shop or just walk around town in their pajama’s, and the guys think shirts are totally mandatory and if they are wearing a shirt, wife beaters are the chosen style. CP, where every weekend brings out a few bar brawls, where you can find drugs faster then you can find the town hall and where mental health problems run free and unchecked. My Dad was always shocked at how many men ride bicycles around Carleton Place. I tried to explain it’s like Amsterdam, environmental and cool but knowing full well the bike is the first step vehicle after a DUI and a sad financial situation and you are way less likely to get pulled over leaving the bars. There are real cyclists here, they wear helmets and wear expensive shades. The other dudes with bicycles drive around with no helmet, a cigarette in their mouth and one arm holding a 12 pack. Now that is functional exercising. I would be way more motivated to lift weights too if they were giants bottle of beer I got to drink after I was done.

Speaking of crazy amusing places…Wal-Mart right? I never go there by choice but I have kids I work with that love to cruise around in there. I always feel as soon as I walk through the doors I have entered a weird portal to a different world. Maybe I am just a pretentious asshole that sees it like that, but I always find the experience hilarious. My favourite Wal-Mart story was when I was in there with my teen and we were shopping around for clothes and then got to the underwear section. Peaking out of one of the men’s Everlast underwear packages was a playing card. I grabbed it only to  find a three of diamonds with a provocative naked male displaying a huge penis!! My teen’s eyes bugged out of his head and we laughed so hard!! It was so random! It felt like we were in a way more dirty version of the movie Amelie with instead of cute and whimsical things happening it was random and perverse and involved penises and all taking place in Wal-Mart and in English…ok it was nothing like Amelie. I still, by the way, carry that card in my wallet to this day. Just for fun.

I took a kid I work with today to the bowling lane on McArthur because she wanted to do ten pin. Man that place is a little bit ghetto. It’s a little dingy, they only accept cash, the receipts are printed on a machine from the eighties and the whole time you are playing your game your tv screen, showing you your points, is waving it’s lines and trying not to die. I knew I had had a lazy week of not going to the gym but lifting up 10 lbs balls is painful (insert joke here). I was watching these other pro bowlers stretch and do some fun moves that resembled Flashdance without the pizzaz. And in my head I was making fun of them for stretching before bowling because y’all, it’s not a real sport. I retracted all that after my fourth bowl and I was sure my arm had broken off and gone off with the bowling ball.  It seemed like a weird place to be when a huge party came in next to us and they were colourful! It felt like an indoor gay pride parade but it made the bowling lanes seem less creepy and more exciting. The names the group next to us put on their screens were like Asian 1, Dixie Enormous, Semi-Asian and they were a terribly fun crowd. After bowling two sets and realizing my right arm would never be the same and that I do indeed suffer from carpal tunnel we packed it in and ventured out of Vanier. On the way out we passed a dude biking with a cigarette in his mouth while balancing an LCBO bag! Vanier is just a big CP! So fun.

Herbfest! The one time of year I fall off my financial rocker and rock out on local or fair trade goods. (Okay not the one time of year at all, it happens far more then that). I came home with spreads, cheese, preserves, coffee, buttons and of course a fair trade tye die shirt from Tibet. Sure it makes me looks a bit like a tent, perhaps a bit pregnant, like a rainbow balloon, like Dumbo the hippie clown but fuck it feels right.

What the hell happened to July? I feel like I was sucked into a vortex and it just crapped me out on August’s doorstep. 

Fruit flies. How do I stop them and what’s the most effective way to kill them? I have tried many things. My husband’s banana addiction tends to breed these little shits but it has gotten out of hand and they are now forming colonies and creating laws so something must be done. 

The 16 year old kid I work with is so scary knowledgable about classic rock it’s crazy. She doesn’t know who Beyonce is but she can tell me the name of Richie Sambora and Heather Locklear’s love child. She can tell me who the main groupies were to the Stones and the Beatles and claims early and rare Def Leopard is totally different form the stuff they plan on the radio. It’s so weird. The song Africa came on and I was like oh ya, Africa by Men at Work or Men Without Hats or Village Men? I have no idea. She looks at me and tells me it’s Toto. Dammit! What the hell? For the rest of the night every time a song came on wherever we were I yelled the name to make up for my lack of eighties hair music knowledge. My tourettes was back with a vengeance. We were mini putting and I was yelling KATY PERRY!!! QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE!! Then in the car I was yelling MATTHEW GOOD!! Then she got Rick Springfield, Scorpions, Poison and ACDC. So when we were walking around Ikea listening to the Ikea elevator playlist I was yelling GLORIA ESTEFAN!! AL GREEN!! STING!! It was a music pissing contest all night and although I kicked her butt in mini putt I sorely lost in the music department.  

Black countertops are OCD nightmares of never ending uncleanliness. Especially with animals around. It’s becoming a problem. If I don’t show up for work tomorrow, I am polishing my counter.

Argh Christina Aguilera you were supposed to be promoting sexiness in curvy women and now you are skinny again, damn you! Damn you for abandoning us!

I saw one of those My Little Pony adult Clubs at the food court in St. Laurent! It was both fascinating and creepy. It definitely felt like the geek section of the cafeteria. I didn’t even pretend to play it cool I just stared. My kid wanted to go see it and I was like no, no, don’t go near them…just enjoy it from afar.

Omg I just saw an ad basically for baby wipes for adults. I was assuming my reaction would be how un-environmental that was, probably full of chemicals and so unnecessary but instead I was like yeah, I love that idea, wet butt wipes. When can I get some of those?  How clean would my ass be? But seriously, if people really wanted to use wipes wouldn’t they already be using them? If people were that OCD about their poop shoot they would just be buying baby wipes, right? And why stop there? How about arm pit wipes, feet wipes, chin wipes or knee wipes. You could skips showers and just wipe in the morning. I can’t stop thinking about the industry they are trying to create here and how easy it might be fall into wet butt wipe camp. And then I came across this http://gawker.com/update-do-you-use-butt-wipes-and-if-so-what-the-fuc-511428757 and I was left even more confused but much more amused then when I started.  

I went to Montreal this weekend. Took my lil’ weekend suitcase and drove down with my Ma. I guess I had opened up my bag sometime during the trip to get a sweater or something because when I got to my Grandma’s I created a scene right out of a rom com. I lifted my suitcase out of the trunk and everything fell out of it. My Mother, in true Buttrum fashion, just stood there pointing and laughing. If I didn’t know I had an addiction to earplugs before, I knew now. It looked like ear plug Hiroshima. They were everywhere. I hoped the neighbours hadn’t seen my episode. I quickly collected all my little orange heroes and took them inside where they would be safe.

We went to Montreal to visit my Grandma in the hospital. As we walked into the building I ran to use the can (long car ride). In the bathroom I realized that I had an insane sunburn from being outside all day. I ran out of the bathroom and yelled at my Mom that she could have told me I looked like a cancer tomato! Not the best thing to yell in a hospital. But I had no other words, I did look like a cancer tomato. It runs in the family though, yelling stupid inappropriate shit (have you met my Dad?). Nothing beats when we went to visit the same Grandma in the hospital after her heart attack many years ago. Ben was much younger. As we walked into the shared room, with at least four other patients there and a few nurses Ben told everyone he had come to visit his Grandma who had had a heart attack and then he VIOLENTLY ACTED IT OUT. My mother nearly died. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen. Ben grabbing his heart, making loud noises dramatically, rolling his eyes back and then falling to the floor. Most awkward hospital moment ever. I have always felt challenged when in a particular situations that requires some form of sensitivity to not yell out something to upset everyone. Perhaps this is a form of tourettes. I think it is because it feels like it’s out of my hands. I worked a Kosher Jewish tournament once and got so mad at my co-worker I yelled at her and called her a nazi. Like there were a million other words but instead I went there. It’s a problem I should probably bring to my Doctor’s attention at some point. 

My Grandma and her hospital roomie were trying to find a deck of cards to play with. Her roommate Celine (yup, it’s Quebec) thought she could play solitaire. I told them they should start hospital gambling. Celine suggested strip poker…but she quickly realized it would have been the shortest game ever as they were both just wearing gowns… We told them about the time that Dad was in the hospital (yes my family spends a retarded amount of time in hospitals) and there were four to his room. Three of the men decided the fourth roommate was so annoying that they would form a protest. All three of the older gentlemen, including my Dad, staged the protest by walking down the hall, pushing their IV hangers with them and let their bare arses hang out their gowns. Not a sight I would have appreciated but a story I did enjoy hearing. They did not win their battle, but their gang earned respect on the floor.

I never put stuff on the roof of the car the sole purpose I have driven away with it still on there. We were driving Maggie and Chloe home the other day and I saw something in the side mirror and I wondered what the hell it was, then a few feet later I knew I saw something fly through the air. Maggie had left her books on the roof. When we drove back our neighbour had already picked up the book and was excited about reading it. Sorry, dibs. When we were at the hospital a family, piled into the car with a brand new baby and drove away with a glass vase full of flowers on the top. It smashed and shattered everywhere. Ben and I drove by yelling OPA! 

Ben and I were sitting in the parking lot when we noticed a car behind us with a bumper sticker that said “Hooning is not a crime.” We were like, what the fuck is hooning? After some quick on the fly google research we realized that hooning is totally a crime! It’s driving recklessly, aggressively, doing donuts, street racing etc. A car drove by us quickly and we yelled at them to stop hooning. Ben found some black electrical tape in the glove compartment because he was going to perform some serious guerilla anarchy and change the sticker to tell people hooning is a crime. We are so badass. 

So I went to the Almonte Fair this week, mainly to accompany my niece. But man does that fair suck! I admit, I went last year, purely to see the Outhouse races because it sounded like something that couldn’t be missed. I have also had the good fortune, in past years, to see tractor line dancing which is a weird and wonderful thing that reminds you that you do indeed live in a small farming town and that some people have the weirdest hobbies. How do people come up with that? But this year it was really lame. Some rides, some animals, some chip stands and it cost $10 to get in. Lame. The only highlight was seeing my niece, Chloe, in a moment of courage when she decided to go on a ride! We couldn’t believe it! She went on the airplanes. We asked where she was going and she told us “Souf Africa”. After the third go around on the ride she looked at us and mouthed “I would like to get off now.” It was so bloody cute. She lasted the ride and was a really good sport about the whole thing. God dammit she’s awesome.

I’m trying to end my affair with Magnum. It’s affecting my life negatively…mainly my hips and bank account. They are so expensive I think they financially rival a cocaine habit. At least that habit would make me skinny. No just kidding, I’m not thinking of giving up Magnum for cocaine…or am I…

Royal baby watch update! Who gives a fuck. George? Really?

Beyonce’s hair getting stuck in a fan made international headlines. That is all.

I am so tired I just tried to pay for my groceries with my cell phone. They held my groceries as I rushed home to get my wallet. When I got back I told her I got my helmet and was all ready to finish the transaction.

 You know when you don’t think you are tired but you start doing stupid things. I had no idea how tired I was this week until one day I went to Freshco and tried to open the automatic door by pointing the car lock keychain at it and pressing unlock. Yowza. Probably should not have been operating a vehicle… 

The neighbours have peacocks. Which sounds super cool until they are around and then you realize it’s not cool at all. Do you know what they sound like? Like people getting murdered. Like blood curdling shrieks. I called Mom once and had to keep asking if she was ok and still alive because all I heard was death screams in the background. They also fan out their amazing spread and strut around in the corner of the yard doing their mating dance. Unfortunately for them they all do the dance for Dad’s old sailboat. Hey sailor, check these feathers out. They have all fallen in love with Loki, the abandoned blue boat. Little do they know, Loki will never love them back…

I have given up asparagus even though I love it. What asparagus does to your pee upsets me too much. Sorry asparagus, it was fun but too stressful for me to handle. Take care.

I met my new kid I will be working with over the summer. She is a small 16 year old Asian girl who loves Zeppelin. She plays the guitar like no one I have ever seen and plays mainly classic rock. Always fun to get kicked in the face with the awesomeness of teenagers. Especially when they get into your car and play Veruca Salt, Beatles, Def Leopard and the Cranberries. It was sing-along central. What 16 year old knows Veruca Salt? Craziness.

Went to Bluesfest today (I know, I know) but I managed to get myself in for free in order to take my other kid I work with. Hazaa! I wasn’t sure if they would let me in seeing how functional and normal my kid was. I wondered if I was going to have to them to look more special, but I didn’t have to. Well played! We went to see our fave band Half Moon Run. They were amazing. I was really taken back by the talent, not to mention good looks. I was deciding which one I thought was hottest when I saw all the bands’ Moms at the side of the stage singing along. Omg this is what it feels like to be a pedophile. I wonder if I am old enough to have babysat them or even be there Mom?? Ewww, not cool.

It was like a million degrees out. I don’t remember the last time I stood still and just had sweat pouring down my back. But bless the goths who stick to their guns though, wearing black and sporting knee high dock martins in egg frying heat. It was nice to see they were so committed to their style they would risk melting for it. Kudos to you goths. I’m not sure why you were at Bluesfest and who you were there to see but who cares. Thanks for representing. 

We went to the merch tent to check out the t-shirts. Nothing like making you feel bad about yourself like trying on a XXL band t-shirt and it not fitting. Like fuck you clothing companies. In the real world a XXL would be a blanket on me. So fuck you and your anorexic groupies too you skinny obsessed bands! May you never know what actual boobs really look like. 

I upset a Buddhist in the shop this week by trying to swat at a fly. I always thought I could be Buddhist until then. But who doesn’t love mass murdering mosquitos? They are creatures of Satan. They are the vampires of the insect world, they should be killed! They should meet true death! And that one fly in the store that just flies around your head until you think you are going to have a nervous breakdown, off with it’s head! I told him I wasn’t Buddhist and continued on the hunt. How dare someone try and push their religion on me 😉

Does anyone on the planet have sympathy for the people that get hurt at running of the bulls? Nope, no one. Thought so.

Well it finally happened. I got pulled over for speeding today on my way to work. I had done too many snoozes on my alarm that morning and thought I could make up the time by flying to the store. I also partially blame the music on the radio. There are a few songs that make me so happy I feel I need to speed when I hear them, Bohemian Like You by the Dandy Warhols is one of them and was playing at the time of the police encounter. As she walked up I was terrified as I never know where or what registration is. Once when I was pulled over in high school I handed the police a building permit for my parent’s deck instead of the registration. He immediately told me to get out of the car. The lady cop appeared in my window and I knew her! She asked me where she knew me from and I told her Read’s, I serve her coffee! I was heading there now and was late which is why I was driving a bit fast. She told me she clocked me at 35 kms over the speed limit which is a $250 fine and then she told me my sticker on my license had expired. To be honest, as with most car related things, I have no idea what that sticker does or why it’s there. I told her I thought they sent it to you in the mail. Noble attempt. She said it’s my responsibility to keep it up to date. I told her it was my first car and also that I was mildly retarded. She told me the fine for the sticker thing would be another $100. Then she looked at me and said that she would let me off because she knew me…SMALL TOWNS RULE!!! And she will never have to pay for coffee ever again… 

Here are the top 10 speeding songs on my driving dangerously play list in no particular order…

Ready, Steady, Go – Paul Oakenfold

Bohemian Like You – Dandy Warhols

Born Slippy – Underworld

Molly’s Chambers – Kings of Leon

Never Miss a Beat – Kaiser Chiefs

Say Say Say – Hi_Tack (Michael Jackson/McCartney remix)

Some Kind of Rush – Booty Luv

Gimme Shelter – Rolling Stones

Right Here, Right Now – Fatboy Slim

Radioactive – Imagination Dragons

I think I may have just outed myself as a closet dance music freak and like I never moved past 2003…these things may or may not be true. 

I have always felt that sports that can be played with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other are the best kind of sports…you know, darts, golf and of course, everyone’s favourite boring sport, baseball. I had the good fortune to dust off my Commie-esque baseball cap for the first time in 10 years on Canada day and play. What a fucking boring game! Especially when, in my head, I remember being good at it. I remember being able to hit a ball, catch a ball and run really fast. None of those things came back to me. Although I felt I was sprinting like I was springing like Usain Bolt but was probably actually waddling medium speed. The worst was when I was right underneath a fly ball, perfectly set up to catch and it and it somehow bounced off my knee cap instead…when did I become dyslexic and ouch that fucking hurt. There are a long list of sports I think I like because I think I am good at them and as soon as I start playing, I realize I hate them because I am not good at them at all…for example, mini putt, bowling, skating, pool, darts…ok none of those are really sports but you get the point. 

I was driving the other day and kept hearing this insane sound coming from my car. I pulled over, you know to like kick the tires or whatever people do to cars and then went on my merry way. I heard it again and was sure there was a grinding piece of metal about to fly from my car at any second. Well funny enough it all went away from I turned off the techno music blasting from the radio. Note to self, never listen to music in the car that sounds like grinding metal and mad beats.

I went into Macs in Carleton place to get an ice cream, because I am having an affair with Magnum Gold, although it’s none of your business. At the cash there was an old guy and a young lady trying to convince the cashier who had the most cats. I was wondering when becoming a crazy cat person became a badge of honour, but well hey, it was in Carleton Place. I knew the lady would win, her cat stench was ruining my courting moment with Magnum.

Went to see the movie “This is the End” which I was nervous about because funny movies can go either way with me. I either love them or hate them. I did not have high hopes for this movie at all, but totally loved it! It was only slightly ruined by the lady who sat behind me, who had obviously just marinated in some cheap fruity perfume before coming out. At first I was like, wow she smells good, I feel like I’m on some beach in the Caribbean. But by the end of the movie I had a crazy headache. I hate that people are obsessed with scents and making places a scent free environment because scents are nice and fun. But there is no need to fill a bath with cheap bath and body works perfume, let it sink into your every pore and then go somewhere public and full of people. It made me hate beaches and want to become violent with some coconuts.

I just came back from the farmer’s market and decided to go all Gwyneth Paltrow on everyone’s ass. I dusted off my old juicer and rocked out! I was so excited that I almost texted Hennie to hurry home because there was totally a phytonutrient party happening in the kitchen! Which then made me believe I probably need to get out of the house more. I had a brain wave to juice the perfect blend for daiquiris and then quickly scolded myself because that is totally not what Gwyneth would do. Do not add booze to your fresh juice blends! I also have to yell Goji berries at the top of my lungs the whole time I am using them because of the Yoga guy youtube videos. If you haven’t seen it, you must. Of course I juiced and made smoothies all day only to go into town and carry on my affair, with Magnum…none of your business!

When shopping for seriously over priced clothes in Almonte today I was asked by quite a few people if a) I was going to Celtfest or b) Bluesfest. Excuse my while I become my Father for a second and rant on these issues… 

Celtfest. I used to work in an Irish Pub. An Irish pub that wanted to be so authentic that the only music that was allowed was Irish Celtic music. From what I have gathered there are like 50 Irish folk tunes and everyone just covers them over and over again. Until one day you hear Whisky In the Jar one too many times and you realize the next celtic song you hear will incite a murderous, violin throwing, leprechaun slaying rampage. That is why I don’t go to Celtfest…for your safety. 

Bluesfest. Remember the days of Summersault and Edgefest when summer music festivals were small, organized and in great locations? Yes, me too. First, Bluesfest is too big. I went one year, only because I got free tickets, to see Soundgarden. Soundgarden turned out to be quite a heavy rock/metal band despite everyone only really knowing the songs Black Hole Sun and Spoonman. We were trying to get into it, be metal heads, do some fist pumping and head banging but in between we could hear the music coming from the other stage. Which was my arch musical nemesis Tegan and Sara! I cannot stand them! Heavy metal to dancy, clappy music totally hurt the vibe. Also just beside the stage is a ticker screen of everyones tweets about Bluesfest. And for someone with ADD when something is flashing in the corner of your eye, you must look! Then you realize you are staring at the stupid ticker thing wondering why people just aren’t enjoying the music and why they are all making stupid comments about how good the music is, because instead of listening and enjoying they are tweeting about it. Then you realize you are missing it because you can’t take your eyes away! So stupid! Also the toilets are hard to get to and for someone with a tiny bladder I would consider adult diapers next time. Parking is also a serious pain in the ass. Ok that is all, fuck Bluesfest.

I have recently realized there is no market for PMS medications. None at all. The only cure is chocolate ice cream, that is all.

My favourite place to people watch is now the gym. Which makes me look creepy because I go to the gym the size of a large cupboard so it’s hard to casually creep people.

I went in today and there was a large lady sitting on one of the machines, not moving but texting on her phone. I was like, woah, when did that get added to the circuit? Does that burn calories? I would totally be skinny if that burned calories… 

My favourite people to watch at the gym are the retired teachers. I don’t know what it is about teachers, but they are a different breed of people. I should know. They come into the gym and greet everyone enthusiastically, because as a teacher, they know everyone in town. In the circuit part of the gym you do a machine and then jump on a board and do whatever cardio you want. When the retired teachers jump on the cardio board they think they are stepping onto the raised platform on Saturday Night Fever. The hips come out, the finger points up, some clapping happens and they groove. (I know if my Mother, a retired teacher, came to the gym she would be doing the exact same thing.) They do not crack a sweat ever but I imagine it’s because they are wearing make-up and trying to always look fabulous…

Today I had to hold myself together because a lady jumped onto the cardio board and I-swear-to-god started doing the Lollipop Kids moves from the Wizard of Oz. It was the best cardio move I have ever seen. I wished the teachers could have seen it and incorporated that move into their regime.

I have decided the best time to go to the gym is during the day when all the old ladies are there. It makes one feel like a fucking professional athlete exercising next to 70 year olds.

I was playing with my niece Chloe yesterday. Well…playing is a bit of a stretch. I was drinking a daiquiri while I threw stuffed animals at a box she was wearing on her head. She loved it. I looked at Hennie and I told him he was watching the future. If we ever had kids I would sit around drinking while throwing stuff at them, pretending to play. Maybe kids is a bad idea. He agreed thoroughly.  

Also, after feeling my friend’s very pregnant belly and freaking out in weirded-out-ness I realized how far away I am from even thinking of it. It’s supposed to be magical, a new life, a miracle and there I am feeling a kick, screaming and sticking my tongue out and shaking the cooties off my hand like a I just touched a snake. Apparently I haven’t quite hit adulthood. Maybe that’s what 30 will be about. But tomorrow, it’s 29 baby!!! I’m still, apparently, at the age where only my direct peers think it’s old, the rest of the world thinks I’m surprisingly young. I’ll take it! People have been thinking I was 30 years old since I was 18 so I am finally catching up with my oldness. I am growing into my old lady-ness. It feels right. I wear cougar print, I hold my handbag like a granny and I say things like, young people these days…

My Mom texted me the other day asking if I had any bug repellent safe for Chloe to use. I wrote back that I had some safe incest repellent in my room…creepy type-o!

I went to Costco with my Mom today to buy 800 pound bags of chips and a gallon of hummus for my birthday do. Nothing quiet makes me want to hurt people or blow things up more than a trip to Costco. From the herding in of the consumer cattle to the mind numbing cart pushing of people in a capitalist daze…I lose my fucking mind. People just stop in the middle of the aisle not realizing there are a million people behind them. There is no traffic order just cart chaos. It’s shopping anarchy. My Mom fits in, she walks wherever she wants without realizing she is cutting people off or in people’s way (although when she did it in the parking lot I was concerned for her life). It’s like ya I want deals and mass amounts of food to feed my probably drunken friends but do I need the biggest wheel of brie with a side of angry fists, losing my mind and heart palpitations to go with it? I told my Mom I was glad I didn’t have a second cup of coffee or I would have been raging. And then a lady handed me a fresh brewed espresso and I knew we had to leave immediately before I cart stomped someone. And no one actually saves money when the grocery bill is $200 right? Like what the fuck did I buy? 

I saw an Asian couple today taking pictures of a gas pump at an Esso…that is all…that is funny on it’s own.

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…

I went to see Fast and the Furious #83. I feel silly with myself for even wanting to watch it let alone thinking it would be good. But then how do you screw up a movie about cute boys in fast cars? Omg but they did! There was not enough fast cars scenes and no cute boys!! Vin Diesal looks like a penis in a wife beater and sounds like he’s chewing on paper and choking on tinsel all at the same time. And the younger guy, whatever-his-name-is, I remember him being cute in the first movie but now, he just seemed kind of sad! Like in between movies he just sits at home, drinks beer and watches tv (not a lifestyle I’m judging just so not celebrity). It was so hokey, that during an attempted serious moment in the movie, the people in the theatre were laughing! Laughing out loud. 

I rounded out my masochistic movie tendencies and took my kid I work with to see Hangover #3 too many. I don’t know why. I didn’t make it through the first Hangover and I certainly didn’t see the second one, so I have no idea why I went to the third one….needless to say, it was pretty terrible…

I haven’t seen my Mom and Dad for days…and we are living with them right now. They started watching Mad Men and no longer leave their room. I come home from work late at night sometimes and they are still awake…watching Mad Men. My parents are as obsessive about tv shows as I am. When I introduced them to Damages on Netflix they actually watched enough to get a call from their internet provider saying they were close to maxing their bandwidth. That is serious dedication people!

I did a little bit of clothes shopping this week…in my friend Rachelle’s laundry room in her apartment building. It’s the coolest thing! People just leave shit they don’t want in a pile and then when I come visit we tour down and I always find something amazing! Last time I got a purple scarf and mitts and this time I got two H&M sweaters! Sure they are men’s but that’s really the only way I am ever going to fit into H&M clothing so it’s awesome.

I got stabbed in a night club last night!!! Stabbed in the foot!! With a stiletto!! We were dancing in Caliente, a latin night club in Ottawa, when out of nowhere some out of control salsa dancer stabbed me! Well she stepped on my foot, but with heels and it fucking hurt! It was all a blur at the time and I couldn’t comprehend exactly why my foot was in so much pain. But it all came back to me this morning when I looked down at my foot to see a dent in my foot, skin missing, bruises and my large toe nail cracked. Fucking latin night clubs! I never thought the club scene was dangerous in Ottawa, BUT IT IS!

I was thinking last night, while on the toilet at the club, that someone should create a yoga class for practical everyday stretches. Like forget warrior, mountain and downard dog pose. I propose ‘trying to paint your toenails while standing up pose’ or ‘trying to grab something in the back seat while driving pose’ or what made me think of this ‘trying to hold the stall door closed while I pee because I have picked the only one without a working lock pose’. You would connect with the pose so much more because it would be real…like ‘lifting up my foot to see if I just stepped on lego pose.’ I think I’m onto something here…

Nothing like settling in from a big trip only to go on a mini work road trip to Toronto!

Sara (my boss) and I have this down to a fine art. We both bring kale chips and coolers full of fruits, veggies and water, with the best intentions…only to stop at the first chip stand we see for fries or pass by it saying we are healthy and get fries later at A&W instead.

We got off to a late start so when we finally got to Toronto, it was a mad dash to see the three stores we had planned. At one point we were in such a rush to get to one store that I was sure we could beat Siri’s time. “Siri says 8 minutes but I am sure we can make it in 5! Siri is being overly cautious. Forget her. Pedal to the metal girl, Pedal to the metal! DRIVE FASTER!” Of course we made it to the store, only to find out the buyer we were trying to catch was there for another few hours and we didn’t need to rush at all.

We had free styled booking a hotel (and by free styled I mean we hadn’t booked one at all). Sara was sure it wouldn’t be an issue, as it was Tuesday night…well Toronto must be a very happening place because the first 2 hotels we tried were full?! Finally the guy at reception of the last place called another hotel, just down the street, to see if they had room. They had one left so we needed to be quick. The receptionist told us the parking could be tricky but he would help us by pointing it out on a map. He rips this giant Toronto map from a pad on his desk and draws a line to where we are going. Perfect! We get into the car, turn left out of the parking lot, drive 10 feet and there was the hotel. There we are staring at a giant map, getting all technical with the directions and the hotel was RIGHT THERE! He could have walked out from behind his desk, walked to the window and pointed at it. We laughed so hard Sara almost crashed through the parking gate that did not quite raise fast enough. The rest of the trip was just as hilarious.

I have been going through such Sons of Anarchy withdrawal that I have decided to re-watch all of them under the guise that my friend Erin should see them and I would watch them with her. I think Erin was onto my addiction enabling plan when as soon as the DVD started I just kept yelling HOT….SO HOT every time Jax was on the screen. I swear it’s the best show I have ever seen…EVER! I once told Hennie I was going to get the full Sons of Anarchy reaper tattoo on my whole back, he shook his head and walked away. 

I discovered the best summer ice cream treat ever yesterday! It’s dairy free and is made with coconut milk and is covered in almonds and some magical dairy free chocolate. It’s so good. I knew while I was eating it that Gwyneth Paltrow would approve. I’ve noticed, while faced with a food decisions recently, in my head I hear “what would Gwyneth do?” Maybe I should make bracelets that say WWGD. I know everyone hates her and here is why I empathize with her. If I wrote a blog about all the stupid, ridiculous shit I eat and all my many food intolerances, y’all would hate me too. If I gabbed on and on about natural cures for everything and moronic environmental crusades I go on, you would think I’m annoying as fuck. I try to keep it myself! I know sometimes it leaks out but I try to keep a lid on it! I am a gluten intolerant, vegetarian who can only eat some dairy and random foods can give me headaches for Gods sakes! I know! I’m fucking annoying! It was after my Dad called me a food fascist once that I knew I should just keep my food ridiculousness to myself. Which is why I try not to dwell on it when out or travelling. I try to fit in and then quietly suffer later alone at home. Gwyneth didn’t get the memo that people generally find that shit annoying but I don’t care…I like her. And her kid’s name is Apple which is awesome! My kid’s names will be Banana, Kale and Chia seeds…just because. Just kidding, am not having kids, I fed my uterus to the lion, remember?

My birthday is coming up. I’m calling it my ‘Holy Shit Birthday’ as I am going to be 29 which, in theory, means I have one year to get my shit together. I’m not sure it’s enough time! One year until I am thirty! Holy shit! Not cool! When did this happen! I still refer to things I did when I was 19 as ‘a few years ago’. Do I have to refer to myself as an adult soon?? Not cool.

P.S-I am so excited that people actually read this blog btw. Thanks to my loyal and wonderful readers. When I got back from my trip there had been 750 views on my blog! Which my brother Ben quickly told me, “ya but 595 of those views were Mom…you know that right?” Thanks everyone! xo

I was so excited to come home right in time to enjoy an amazing Canadian summer! And then I got here…what the hell Canada?? I hate people that complain about the weather but wtf. This heat is disgusting. It’s sticky, humid and uncomfortable. The first hot day I couldn’t understand why my eyes were burning until I looked in the mirror and could see my makeup was melting into them. It’s so hot, I sweat like a 300 pound man in a sauna, just walking to the car. I walked up a small hill the other day and needed to sit and rest at the top for awhile, like a 90 year old asthmatic. I mean I know I am out of shape right now but really. The heat sucks.

I lost 10 lbs before leaving for our trip and promptly drank enough cream soda and beer to put every bit of it back on. I couldn’t even wear half of my clothing I brought with me by the end of the trip because I had packed on so much, specifically around my belly. I knew it was bad. But the other day, I took the kid I work with out to see Iron Man 3 and we got some popcorn. I always make a mess with popcorn because apparently I don’t know exactly where my mouth is, but it doesn’t matter because I take 800 napkins with me to obsessively use throughout the movie. I also always get home and find half my popcorn is in my bra (snack for later) but this time there was a new low. A piece of popcorn was transported from the theatre to my home in my belly fat roll. I shit you not. I lied down, felt something at the top of my pants and dislodged it from my chub. Needless to say I went to the gym the next day and kicked my ass. 

You know what else I forgot about Canadian summers? The MOSQUITOS!! They are fucking insane! They aren’t quite as bad as Scottish midgies which I refer to as satan’s army, the worst insect I have ever come in contact with, but they are still so bad! As soon as the heat dies down in the evening you literally can not plan anything outside, if you live rurally, without the devil’s soldiers raining on your parade. There was one mosquito in South Africa, that was it. Sure, it bit me like 8 times because I taste ridiculously good, but there was only one. When I lived in Scotland a few years ago you couldn’t even see 3 feet in front of you, that’s how evil their midgies are. I was bitten so much one time that I had scratched enough to make my legs look like a horror movie. I went to work with blood seeping through my hose for the rest of the day. Nothing says “It’s a great day at the Loch Achray restaurant” like a waitress who looks like she was stabbed in the legs a few times before getting to work. But I think the reason they were so satanic in Scotland is because of the damp. That constant Scottish rain. Every season is rain, maybe warm rain, maybe cold rain but rain. We once managed to have a camp fire in Scotland though. And by campfire I am referring to someone holding a lighter and the other person spraying their aerosol Axe deodorant at it. Yes, a cozy Scottish campfire. Good times. I suppose our disgusting heat is better then perma rain and satan’s army. 

I hit up the Farmer’s Market today, confirming I am back to my exciting self! Wooo fresh veggies! I then came home and aggressively cooked vegetables, made spreads and even stewed rhubarb. Only to sit back, look at all my wonderful, natural and healthy creations and eat a piece of toast with cheese on it. I am so my Father’s daughter. My Dad believes every meal of the day can be served on toast, or can just be toast. It’s kind of hilarious. Breakfast = toast, Lunch = toast with ham, Snack = toast with peanut butter and dinner quite often reverts back to breakfast. It’s a perma carb party but we have learned to accept it. 

I realized yesterday that I am the best friend to have, ever. I went out with a good friend, who is pregnant with her second child. I was like, are you stressed? Are you scared? Isn’t one bad enough? Now there will be two?? You will have two small children!! Did you choose this? Why did you do this?? 

Umm…I mean…two! Hurrah! Aren’t you excited? Ya…ya that’s what I meant. 

I have been feverishly trying to get all caught up with The Voice (shut up, it’s awesome). Hennie worked a 5 hour shift today. When he left I was watching it and when he returned I hadn’t moved. I hate when America gets to vote because they vote out the colour immediately. Have you noticed that? The top 5 are always white….Americans are racist. The best singer the show had was Asian/Black but everyone knew America would vote her out when they got the chance – dammit!

I just watched one where Adam Levine and Usher did a duet. It was okay to watch, but it just would have been way better if they both had had their shirts off, right? It would have made it SO MUCH BETTER! In fact the whole show would be better if they didn’t wear shirts. Ok, they should just be naked, the show would be epic.