When I woke up and stretched and let out a yawn
I couldn't remember where the week had gone
I thought maybe this week would take me all year
But the time went by fast and now that it's here.
'The weekend, the weekend' I cried out with joy
Time to spend with my Hubby and boy,
I am glad the weather is supposed to be nice
Because working all week I missed out on the ice
Tinklin' in my glass, while floating in gin
Rooftop patio please, you will soon find me in
Atop of the city with a view of CN
I love it so much, don't know where to begin.
Fingers are crossed for fun and for rest
A drink and goodbye for a gal who's the best
My uke wants to sing songs in sweet harmony
Jilly and Lucy; I'll rub their tummy
I know that the weekend will be fast and then gone
A pedi and snuggle and blog set for dawn
Monday will start with a boom and a bang
Before the sunrises I will work again
So hear me out weekend, I've been a good friend
I've worked really hard and this short weekend
I want you to listen and love me real good
The way only a summer weekend ever could
So prepare thyself weekend for fun and for mirth
Cause you know you're too short, I want all that you're worth
Thank you for hearing my pledge and my vow.
I would love you weekend, if you'd only start now!
I am drinking my own Kool-aid. While sitting on the sofa my Kitty swiftly and silently planted herself within arms reach; a sure sign that she wants some loving'. Upon realizing she was there, even though I didn't want to become involved in a furry-purry-festival, I recalled writing about being an affectionate Momma the day before. So, I held myself accountable and began a fur-affair. Uh oh! If I write it it comes true. I am holding myself to a higher standard. If I say I am going to do it in a blog post, it gets done. I am becoming the personality I created online.
There was a time not so long ago, I was filled with big dreams and they tumbled out of an even bigger mouth. But they just fell to the floor and lay there like dead leaves only to blown away by the hot air my big mouth kept huffing. With the fickle nature of any artist, I would start a project and then loose interest. But writing it down really does force you to be accountable. People are shocked by the amount I can write and how quickly. Is it all good? I'm no Stephen King, but I manage.
Having a great idea is one thing. Having a great idea actually become something, even if that something isn't very good, is better. Magic says 'You miss 100% of the baskets you don't shoot." Well, 100 is too many percent. I was tired of being unhappy- so I faked it. I pretended to be happy...and now I am. I am really, really happy actually. I feel more like myself than I ever have before. Not everything is perfect but Roddammit, it's a lot better. Learning to love something by working through the hate is the best training for life. Life will always be hard work, even the easy things can be a challenge. I never thought I could actually enjoy working this hard and not getting paid for it. But I also can't believe that I haven't been doing this longer.
My actions have started speaking for me. Even louder than my words if that's conceivable. Accountability and being true to one's word are great new character traits I have cultivated in myself. I am practicing what I preach! And I love everyday of this weird and wacky life I've chosen. The best thing is you can change the things you don't like about yourself, as long as you're able to let that Crazy-lazy-no good-all talk-Biatch-go! And I gave her the not-so-nice exit music and her digital walking papers. Optimism agrees with me, I think I'll have another half full glass of Kool-aid :)
PS: If these blogs actually come true I would like the following: 1. Book deal 2. International comedy tour 3. Secluded country house on a hill near a lake, surrounded by trees; the perfect place for writing 4- 9. Items to be added as BFF, Bro, Momma and Hubby submit their wants.
Ladies and Gentlemen, this story is a 3 part grade 5 nightmare. As you know I am a dramatic individual. I always have been. I probably always will be...Though I may mellow out in my old age, but genetically speaking I don't see that happening.
Part the First: Toilet Snakes
I grew up in a small town. Where most of the houses aren't built on sewer systems but utilize septic tanks. So, one day when I read in our local weekly free press filled with local events that a snake had found it's way into a septic tank and in it's search for air swam through the plumbing and coiled itself in the toilet bowl; waiting for an unsuspecting victim to answer the call of nature. Now at this time in my life urban legend and undisputed rumours we're as good as truth; especially if they were printed in the local gossip rag. It was years until I could go to the bathroom with the lights off. I mean, literally until Hubby sat me down and explained that a snake couldn't get into our condo building through the pipes and sewer system. And though I believe him, it seems extremely possible- especially since the sewers are open concept.
Part the second: Over-Reaction time
In grade 5 gym class our school didn't have dedicated change rooms, lockers or cubbies; so we changed in the washroom. Leaving our clothes there; unprotected from the grade 6 bullies, susceptible to all types of shenanigans. After one particularly grueling session of king's court, I was the 3rd girl to arrive in the washroom. Walking in the onesie stall I had stowed my clothes in, my eyes beheld to -my terror- a dark, coiled shape in the toilet! Reacting on impulse I flushed it immediately. Saving my classmates from the wrath of the dreaded toilet snake! I realize as the bowl boa was halfway down, it's no snake; it's a purple sock. Letting out a peel of 5th grade laughter, I spill out of the stall and regale my female classmates with the exaggerated interpretation of the moments before. Giving the sock venomous fangs and a thirst for blood. They didn't laugh.
Part the Third: Ramifications
After my nightmare had almost come true I quickly blocked out the traumatic experience. Skipping down the hallway, I didn't even give the incident a second thought. Until...walking into my silent classroom. One of the dreaded Jennifers was whisper-sobbing to my 5'1 burly bearded teacher. Mrs Popuvichu; not actually her name. I never could spell it. Heretofore known as Poppi. Poppi's dark brown eyes narrowed in my direction: "Would you step into the hallway please?" Shocked that I could possibly be in trouble for something. Running through all my outstanding offenses...coming up blank. Hanging my head and dragging my feet out into the hallway to a toe tapping Poppi.
"It has come to my attention that you put Jennifer's sock in the toilet and flushed it." Poppi accused me.
"I didn't put it in the toilet, I thought it was a snake so I flushed it." I defended myself. Poppi, disregarded my story and continued.
"Do you realize now that she only has one sock, how would you feel if you only had one sock?" I shrugged. "Perhaps you should only have one sock. Give your left sock to Jennifer. You must learn to take responsibility for your actions." Starring at Poppi I couldn't help but think how hairy her chin was, but also why would she punish me for trying to protect the girls in my class from a toilet snake? I bent down and removed my indoor shoe to take off my sock. Wearing one solo sock for the rest of the day. Sitting through our afternoon math and clock modules starring at Jennifer's mis-matched socks, I couldn't help but think; is this what I get for being a hero? On my walk home, I tried to figure out a way of explaining this to my Momma, I was dismayed. Upon walking through my front door, she was there to greet me, the diligent Poppi had already informed her for me. After a lengthy conversation about respecting other people's property, it was finally my turn to explain. I had done it for the greater good, to protect the girls of 5C from untold horrors- including snake bites to the bum and if all I lost in doing so was a sock it was a risk I would take again. I think it took some convincing but my Momma understood that my intentions were good, even if the outcome was not. And how mad could she be, really? It was just a sock.
As I mentioned dramatics have always been a part of my personality. And even though I have yet to encounter another toilet snake or purple sock I know I would do the right thing. And just in case being a hero goes awry, I'll try to be prepared with an extra pair of socks:) so no one has to bare the shame of a one sock walk again.
I love my Puppa-Roo. I mean love love her. Even the days when I don't like her, I still love her. It's easy. She snuggles sweetly and is completely dependent on my whims to survive. Somedays she gets overachieving über-momma, somedays not so much. My Sushi Goose? She's another story. I know she at least likes me-most of the time- despite what BFF says. And that when she wants lovin' she gets it from me; as long as there's a Claritin nearby. It's easy to love a fluffy kitty who wants to purr with me occassionaly. Then there's my Momma; easiest person to love ever. Her sense of humour and unwavering support keeps her in the top 3 of easiest things to love. #4 being ice cream sandwiches and #5 swimming pools. The rest of us seem to make it so hard for each other.
Somedays you hate the people you're supposed love the most. Okay, okay, hate is a strong word. And I don't hate them; I hate animal cruelty, thong undies and smog. I just really, really don't like the way we treat the people we say we love. These are the people who are supposed to know you best and sadly the ones who let us down the hardest. These people know our weaknesses and stories from our past. They know the mistakes we've made. But those same loved ones are the worst people to us, and we are to the worst right back.
For example I am meanest to my Hubby, not often, but he takes the brunt of a bad day or my wrath if I'm hangry. By marrying me he made a decision: I agree to this level of mean and I don't mind dealing with her temperament. But sometimes I'm not easy to love. I get soo snappy until he looses his mind and snaps back, then I cry. But I love him. I love-love him. I laugh harder with him than anyone else. He's one of the funniest people I know and I hang out with a lot of comedians. Sometimes I am hard on my Bro who doesn't always deserve it, but needs to hear it anyways. I get frustrated with my Papa B who knows the only person he can change is himself. I know he knows this, because he taught me. All we can do Papa B is hold out hope that our change inspires change in others.
I wanna love these people everyday, why do I have to fight so hard for it? But that's on me. If I apply the philosophy of my daily practice to loved ones I should be thanking the sun for peeking through, instead of cursing the rain clouds. But it's easier said than done. Each one of these people acts as though there will be more time, time for forgiveness, ease and love but always saving it for later. I'll tell you what there isn't a lot of- time. Instead of fighting so hard we could be spending all this wasted time together. Celebrating how we've all managed to get this far. And for the most part without an epic fail. We are so lucky to get this time to spend together. But we're not going to take advantage of it are we? We're gonna to hide behind our snappy remarks and our old grudges and stubborn personality traits. I know that I can get over my hurt feelings and frustration, but I am scared that by then the cat will be in the cradle with the silver spoon and it will be too late. By all accounts I think it's time I say 'I'm sorry. Things haven't always been easy, and Roddammit, you make me crazy but I love you anyways' was that so hard to say? I want to tell you now, because you deserve to hear it.
Love is an easy thing to give. All you need to love someone is the courage and will to do so. While forgiveness is something those closet to you may have the most trouble asking for. Loved ones be loved, even though I wonder why sometimes we make it so hard. Sigh. Life and love would be so much easier if we had furry tails and our only worry was 'when do we eat?'
Since my move to Queen Street, I have become very aware of this new thing called: Fads. Apparently fads aren't a new thing but my early life in a small town limited my fad experience. Having only heard of them on the Grease 2 soundtrack. But now living near the beautiful people, I've started to notice things. Take antique fans; they are quite popular. Vintage wind is very trendy. Unicorns are also hot right now. But I've loved them since I was 4. Can you spell trendsetter? Yes, yes I can, though I would never consider myself an actual trendsetter. I simply stay true to what I like and wait for it to come back into fashion. I have clothes that are poor fad choices but In my time of confusion I turn to you. And fashionably speaking Queen St., lately there have been a few misses.
First, I am concerned with the mesh-surection. I remember in the late 80's and early 90's when red mesh tanks were the hottest in men's apparel. Or worn as a black top layer over a cream coloured classy slip dress. But now it's all types of crocheted shirts and open weaves, worn over -nothing! Exposing the typically elusive crevices of the upper body. It seems as though this once classy top layer has become a solo-performer for maximum exposure. Not that I mind seeing the human form unveiled, I just don't think it complies with the shirt- shoes-service regulation. And I don't need (more) boobs in my breakfast:)
Secondly, Pabst blue ribbon. Now I have been a fan since the Chicago World's Fair- which was 1893, yeah you read that right. That was when they became the blue ribbon winner! And now I may not have been drinking it for over one hundred years. But I have always had a special place for those teeny bubbles and smooth flavour. I have also been drinking beer in cans for years cuz glasses are for Prisses. Plus who doesn't like holding a tall boy? As fab as it is though, beer cans should not be a fashion accessory. Choosing a reasonably priced alcoholic beverage shouldn't be a fad...it makes sense to pay for quality which also happens to be cheap and delicious.
But the biggest trend trouble I am having? Well, I feel like there's a fad this summer to wear high waisted short shorts that accentuate the camel's toe. No other pant, covering here or here.*insert thigh swooping gesture. Just the prominent display of the great Canadian moose knuckle...Now I was raised with the 'leave something to the imagination' school of thought and I find it very distracting to see a woman's birth canal as she rides her bike down the street. I mean, c'mon ladies, who wants to buy the cow when they get the camel toe for free? Plus it just looks plain uncomfortable.
That being said there are exceptions to every rule. Some trendy folks have taken these fad affronts and twisted them into merely mild mis-uses of fashion. I know, I know I'm supposed to say what's good for the goose is good for the gander...except when the gander in this is a 500 pound land whale laced up like a pot roast in short-shorts. Oh, I just realized that doesn't sound very nice. So here's another try. Trendsetters, be brave and bold, without being slaves. Learn how to dress for fad success & use your social compass. But the biggest trend that I hope to set is this: No matter how much is showing, you are who you are; from the top of your head to the tip of your camel toe. People, people there are so many ways to put your best toes forward, but you should be flashing 10, not 12.
As I may have mentioned before, I am in love with NetFlix. I love it so much I gave it to my parents for their Christmas gift. The best part about it you ask? Well, it helps with conversation, because all the popular tv, movies and miniseries are there for you at your leisure, and your library is shared with your friends- if they have Netflix. It helps with boredom by having a large and nearly impossible to complete catalogue of categories to choose from and new material is constantly being added. I love Netflix but I especially love watching tv series when the Halloween and Christmas episodes pop up randomly.
Watching a holiday episode in the middle of summer reminds you why those days are so special. The way they're all like miracles in a wonderful life. Heartwarming! The movies of the week with single Moms making wish lists a reality. Shining stars that twinkle on trees and the sound of bells and choirs. People dressed in morbid and sexy costumes that reveal hidden sides of their characters. Ghosts, goblins, turkey and Thanksgiving- they are all on Netflix waiting for their time to celebrate. Too often we forget those special times- all clustered together between October and January. Bringing the family together. Even the not so annual celebrations are there: prom, weddings, birth and death, taxes and promotions. The events in our lives mirrored by our favourite characters, only to be forgotten until selecting them again one rainy afternoon.
Netflix is for spending time with those you love, a 13 episode season spent watching from the couch together. Reminding you to take time and celebrate. Any day of the week can be a magical time if you're ready to sit down and watch 7 straight hours of mirth, merriment and the unsinkable human spirit. And for just $7 a month, it's priceless!
Fine print: Melicious Manners is in no way funded by Netflix; though with a revue like this I outta be:)
Today is the first day in the rest of your life. While riding the stinky Dufferin bus I noticed a sign: Don't look back, you're not going that way. Which applies to life but also driving..? Wait, no, not driving. You should definitely look back while driving-actually I think that's why cars have rearview mirrors. Anyway, I am looking ahead in life. Today is the day. Today is a day for doing, for hanging in there baby, for reaching for the stars. The problem most of us face is motivation, no wait, prioritizing... No, the problem is overstimulation or is it laziness? Maybe it's indecision, but I never can quite put my finger on it.
All my life I have been inspired by stories of Princesses who fall asleep and wake to a life in a castle with a Prince. Well, that's all grand and great for them, but they were born Princesses. I'd always dreamed of touring the world- well at least North America- performing *insert talent here for overcapacity stadiums. Now, you may have noticed I didn't insert a talent...that's cuz the dream only got as far as riding the tour bus and greeting the screaming hoards with autographs and oversized sunglasses. My talents vary though it's tough to pin them down. I longed for the prestige of being a Fortune 500 -30 under 30: Having invented an easy way to finally achieve perfect unfluffable hair or flawless makeup that prevents you from sweating, really anything that would make life easier. Perhaps a Robo-Tony to keep my life in order, ya know, something big. I have big dreams and found myself trapped in the cycle of talk about-do nothing-move on-begin to talk of my new dream. That's the dream pitfall; sometimes you get trapped in a place that looks like your house with a woman who doesn't looks like you but somehow you know it is:)
So, wake up sleepy Jean! Today is the day to start. Today is to be seized. Since starting this diatribe in February I have realized how hard it is to actually do it. But now we're past the point of no return. I can't just stop- give up- go back to dreaming. Though now my dreams are bigger. Which after realizing how much hard work they take, makes no sense, but they are. The great thing about seizing the day- it becomes yours. Do with it what you will. Talk is fine. Dreams even better. But DOING is the most integral part of getting closer to your dreams. For too long I have been a Grasshopper- waiting for the world to give. It is time to be an Ant. The best thing about Ants is they know how to work together to achieve their goals. And it turns out I have big dreams. So, work with me people:) or just work it!
Unless you've been living under a rock the last month you've probably heard about the strange behaviour of one particular 'merican fast food chain. And I say strange because it's not something I would associate with chicken. You say chicken, I say fingers. You say gay marriage, I say chicken burger... nope one of those things is not like the other.
Having grown up in an artistic community, I know about the fabulous gays. And going to a theatre school meant I knew most of my classmates were gay before they wanted to tell anybody. But I love them and not because they're gay, but because they're wicked. On the religious front, growing up amongst the United Christian folk, I was taught that everyone is equal and deserves love, no matter what. A puppy murderer, a Disney villain and me: we all deserve love. The greatest of these gifts is love. I guess the problem I have is, didn't anyone tell this "Christian" restaurant that it's not nice to be bigots?
In a time when there is so much prejudice, why would a self-proclaimed community leader want to lead anyone astray? Who gave chicken the divine right to pick who to love? Or marry? Or even who can get married? What's love got to do with a marinated filet, other than being a typically dry dinner choice at a convention centre wedding, obviously. Let's try this again: you say gay marriage, I say "hells ya!". Now, that's more like it.
I know it's hard to be judged, but why should a dick-head chicken place have any opinion about marriage - gay, straight or otherwise? My Momma taught me that people who don't like you, aren't worth your time. Chick-fil-A obviously has their priorities bocked. Considering more than 50% of marriages end in divorce, why would we think that gay marriage could make those numbers different? Plus, if anyone knows how to throw a great wedding it's the gays. I mean, look at how many top shelf planners they have! In the end, I think if Chick-fil-A had their way, we'd all be fat, stupid, judgemental, narrow minded morons. But wait! They already are. As for me, I will dance the chicken dance at any celebration of love and marriage, as long as there's a vegetarian option.
It has been so long since I've had a vacation... a really real vacation. I have gone on trips to my parents, day trips down or up to the beach and hung out in Montreal. But I haven't had 2 weeks solid of days and nights off...With no strings attached and a few bonus days with Hubby gone up north. I really woke myself up! And I learned quite a bit.
1. Putting a ribbon on something doesn't make it a gift.
2. No plan-plans are the easiest and most satisfying plans to attend.
3. Anything is appropriate wardrobe if it's THAT hot out.
4. Buns are great if I wanna look like a ballerina without an eating disorder.
5. Lucy positions herself so that as I pet her the fan blows her loose hair back in my face. She's tricky like that.
6. I remembered how to scream. But once you've lost your voice it won't come back if you keep screaming.
7. Not every selfless act is free.
8. Taking a gamble with thirty percent chance of thunderstorms is like betting against the dealer.
9. Kids are cute until they make that face and explode from both ends.
10. Jogging when the humid ex is high is like trying to breath underwater.
11. James Bond is hot. And if Beckham were James Bond there would be way more kicking.
12. Obsession is something most people should keep to themselves. Or limit to 2 hours per visit.
13. Don't start a conversation with the Commissioner unless you're prepared to be thoroughly tongue lashed for your insolence.
14. Cuban food rocks.
15. BFFs exist for all the great-big-fun and fabulous reasons.
16. Peeing in the pool is acceptable if you're laughing that hard.
17. Karaoke is supposed to be songs everyone knows. Singing- scratch that- screaming along is part of the fun.
18. If your Hubby recognizes the smell of your fart, he'll sell you out; just to make friends.
19. White wine can make you fell like falling or like flying depending on the region of the grapes.
20. A drive-in is the perfect place for 2 girls to talk through a movie.
21. Puppa will always wait until you're close enough to benefit from a good shake.
22. Drunk men will try and proposition you because you have a dog. Having a dog means having a place nearby; so they don't have to drive back home to Kitchener.
23. Sometimes the most interesting looking people talk about some lame stuff. (ie: Egg salad or bandanas)
24. I want to ride the boat around the channel past the drive-in. I don't know what it's called or who owns it, or if they even take passengers, but I want to.
25. I forgot how much I loved high kicking.
26. Jilly doesn't stomp at me when she's hungry, she just stares and puppy sighs as though I should just get it, because I am her Momma.
27. Being a single Puppy-Momma isn't hard if you have a part-time nanny.
28. Slumber parties rock.
29. I can sweat while eating brunch, so that when I get up the pool drips down the back of my dress and puddles on to the seat.
30. Caribana is not as loud in a backyard swimming pool.
31. Meat is not my friend. Unless it's still alive, in which case I will pet it and we will become friends.
32. My Hubby isn't happy with only boys around, but the way he smells I don't think girls would be happy around him either.
33. The 4 storey hole in my backyard is a muddy and green pond...which is kinda Zen.
34. There is a family of 3 mini-city bred skunks lurking in my neighbourhood. There is a turf war brewing.
35. The barometer is a tool of torture.
36. Pickle sandwiches don't exist for a reason.
37. You can get 2 weeks out of a pedicure if you walk on sand.
38. The Olympics aren't fun until we get to the medal rounds; just like every other sporting event.
39. Lemon juice is not a hair product, it's an urban wives tale. Just like not being able to swim at Toronto beaches.
40. Roller coasters are a great source of tension. There should be more movies about them, though I imagine they'd be shorts.
41. My Baby Belle sounds better singing happy tunes, and happiest while playing the Disney library.
42. It's easier to encapsulate and optimize your time in the city- the close proximity allows for entertainment leap frogging.
43. Secret codes are hard to explain but helpful to have... Even if you're the only one who knows it.
44. Little Red Riding hood is a very clever little girl. But not every babysitter gets fridge privileges.
45. Music can come from anywhere, but that doesn't make it all good.
46. My arms tan, my chest tans, my stomach burns and my legs get patchy.
47. A facial can take 2 weeks to heal, and even then is still working hard.
48. My Puppa sleeps as close to me as possible, even if there is tonnes of room in bed.
49. Creating a cartoon series is harder than it looks.
50. Spending a rainy day watching an entire season on Netflix is worth the $7 a month.
51. Picking it just makes it worse.
By the time you relax, you're vacation is over. Which is sad- but I gotta say I was missing you. You know, missing this, US<3 and I am glad to have it back, though I do wish I was still floating around a pool or getting macro-dermabrasion at the beach, or bbqing with my Besties in the backyard... But maybe, just maybe, if I work hard and try hard and hope, I can still do it on the weekends... Oh right, weekends are for doing what you want... Silly me. And I will keep doing it, you can bet on that. Welcome back and happy Tuesday of the August long weekend. I am glad to see ya!
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