Sunday, April 29, 2007

Little Green Redux

Remember the melancholy post last April about "Little Green"?
Well, I just want to send out a happy birthday wish to my new-found niece Kelly, who is 26 today. I still haven't had the chance to communicate with her (her and my sister have been emailing for a year come this June, but still no phone calls or anything - shit or get off the pot, ladies) but someday, if we ever meet or get to know each other, I'll give her these links.
I can't believe where 26 years have gone. I can't believe it's been 26 years since the wonderous event, the miracle of life and birth, the one that was never talked about or mentioned or acknowledged. Looking back, this really sums up how fucked up things really were in my family, and the reaction to the birth of my niece just exemplifies that, but as a kid, you process what you can, and become codependent to keep the peace however you can, meaning by not mentioning it. Anyway, talking to my sister the other day almost made me cry, because as she said "Libby", our middle sister, always sends her flowers on this day (I never knew that and just wanted to bawl when she said that) and then she said "I guess she doesn't have to this year." Oh man, that REALLY almost sent me over the edge. I can't imagine going what she has gone through for 26 years. I just don't know. And I have a friend who is on the other side, reunited with her birth family and trying to keep a little distance from them, and that reminds me that I am her biological family, but I will not be her "Real" family. And that is sad. But at least I know she's had a happy ending, to quote Joni.
Anyway, enough of the melancholy. Happy Birthday Kelly. May all your dreams come true. May you bask in happiness. And I don't know you, and I don't know if I'll ever know you, but I love you. Always.

Friday, April 27, 2007

i wanna be here in a robe

this isn't the best video to really showcase them, but it will do. keep watching, it gets better.

Bjork, my freaky little alien

I know this is something you think I'd mock, but I fucking LOVE it.Sort of scares you a little, but whatever. And she looks fabulous. I always make fun of her, but I actually have a habit of buying her albums because I think she's so cool.
She's ripping off the Polyphonic Spree though.... have you SEEN them before??
Wait, I'll be back!

you tube moment #9

Just doing my youtube thing and I am on one of my Carly Simon jags. Touched by the Sun is one of my three favorite songs in the world, and each time I hear it I feel like Augusten - yearning for greatness and fame and having absolutely no talent or means to realize it. But I wanna be one, one who is touched by the sun.... sing it Carly baby!

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

This post brought to you by Gwen Stefani - the dolphin whisperer

Well, my friends, the time has come. Raise the roof and have some fun....
Oops, I was just addressing you, and I got sidetracked by that sexy devil Lionel Ritchie. You know, Lionel, who "adopted" Nicole out of the goodness of his heart (read: Lionel's wandering cock got him into trouble with some white bitch).
Anyway, I have some horrible news. HORRIBLE. Remember the cat box sent down from the Heavens? Well tonight, I made my father in law come downstairs and said "look @ this!" and proceeded to do my magic, and all I got was a drawer full of litter - no poo poo or pee pee. So I don't know what the hell is wrong with it, but I am pretty sure the cat must have needed to relieve herself sometime in the past 48 hours. Well, unless she was outside lots, but even in the hub-bub of summer, she shits like a goose. So I dunno. I don't want to talk about it. It's sort of like realizing there is no Easter bunny. I feel like someone is saying to me, "No, Virginia, there IS no Santa. And your mama is a crack ho. And you're one ugly-ass bitch." You know what I mean.
We'll see what happens tomorrow. I'll let you know.
OMG, Peg-Leg just got eliminated on the Dancing show. I still can't figure out how I feel about her. Oh hell, she's sitting on 56 million. Boo fucking hoo. It's not fair she's off though and Cliff fucking Clavin is still on. He dances like he's got his trousers full of squished shite.
Anyway. No point of watching this show anymore.
You know, am I the only one who walks around all day shouting in his head "HEY, HEY, YOU, YOU, I DON'T LIKE YOU'RE GIRLFRIEND" over and over? That stupid song sticks with you like oatmeal to your ribs. I'm getting mighty sick of it. And mixed in with that song is Gwen Stefani, the one where she's all "Whoo hoo... HEEEE OOOOO". You know, the one where she's singing to the dolphins or whatever the hell it is she's doing in that high pitched frequency. Those Hukomuri girls or whatever in the hell they are must need some sushi and Gwen provides for her posse.
Stevie was on Ellen today. I have it taped. Was it any good?
Anyway, I better run. Cinderella has 400 chores before bed.
I feel sort of really gross right now. We had the inlaws for dinner tonight. We ordered pizza because they did all this work for us building a deck for our playhouse, and so I spent a frigging fortune on 4 pizzas, since everyone likes something different, and now we have like 2 pizzas left. At least there is supper for tomorrow.

Monday, April 23, 2007

point form madness from the prince of badness

This has got to be quick. I really do have to go to bed as it is after 11. I just didn't want to leave you all lonely, since I know you all wait in patience for me to speak, much like people wait for the latest instruction from Oprah about what to read, what to wear, what their new favorite things should be, and what political and social issues they should care about. So, here I am, to appease the people. I think I'll just do this in point form, to keep it to the point:

-- I have to comment on my new cat box. This thing is the Rolls Royce of shit boxes and it will transform the ways in which you approach the pee pees and poo poos that leave your cat's private areas. I haven't really figured out how it works, but what you do is tilt it one way, and then roll it over onto the top (it's a covered thing), and then roll it back, and then you just pull out this drawer, and all the pee pee and poo poo is right in the drawer for you to walk over to the shitter and flush it away, like a bad dream. Let me tell you, it's the coolest thing. If you don't have a cat, then imagine that you or your spouse always had to shit in the same place, like a dresser or something, and then all you had to do was wiggle it around, open the drawer, and flush it away. Now, doesn't that seem practical?

-- Speaking of cat boxes, I picked up one of Jann Arden's journals at Value Village yesterday and in one of the posts she was saying she was going to clean her cat boxes out and then said something about "I usually do it everyday, but....." and I laughed out loud because who the hell is she kidding? That was written for the non-cat people, because us cat people know that you may start out with cleaning it every day, but it never lasts, so she doesn't have to lie. Well, unless you have the cool cat box we do, where you just roll it around and cleaning it is fun. But come on Jann, I call bullshit.

-- So, am I the only one who seems to be watching the Dancing celebrities show? My daughter is in love with it. That Billy Ray Cyrus is the grossest thing I've seen since I dumped the shit drawer on my cat box, I tell you what.

-- I don't know what to think about that one-legged bitch, Paul McCartney's ex, because I feel sorry for her on the Dancing show, and she's just so weird looking. But then she opens her mouth and she's so odd. I don't know, she just reminds me of a robot. I feel bad that I said she needs that wooden leg shoved up her ass that time. I don't know, sometimes I say horrid things.

-- So all I heard today on the news was that Sheryl Crow supposedly was saying we should limit toilet paper use to one square per toilet visit. If this is true, I just want to say that she is never going to get a date again - she'd make Bill Clinton say "No darlin', that's ok, keep your pants on and let's go get us a taco".

-- On Amazing Race, those gross beauty bitches deserve to win now, because stupid.... what are their names... Rauol and Guido.... now, cha cha cha..... anyway, those two guys should have yielded the girls. Everyone is just too stupid for words.

-- OH, I forgot. I had a dream a few nights ago that I was at a party at the house of some friends I haven't spoken to in years, and the lead singer of .38 Special was there, so I went over and was saying how "If I'd Been the One" was one of my favorite songs and it reminded me of grade 8, and ex-girlfriends and life experiences and parties and on and on, and it was all horse shit, but he was eating it up, but then I couldn't think of anything else they sang, and he was so happy I was talking about that song and then I remembered "Teacher Teacher" and I was all "but I hated THAT one" and then I couldn't think of a way to recover and so them I started singing "Second Chance" because I didn't know what else to do. It was so stupid.

-- And sorry Chunks, I beg to differ about Alec Baldwin's parenting. I don't care if his daughter is Bitchy McBitch-Bitch, but you just don't say that shit to a 12 year old on the phone. I sort have always thought that Kim Bassinger was a kook, but I mean, when you are in a 400 year stuggle for custody with your ex, you don't insult her and call the kid all those names. I mean, I know that people say things, but he should know to be careful. Especially since he's a Baldwin and they ALL appear to be crazy. What IS it with them? Why are they all so creepy freaky?

-- And why does Marie Osmond look like a blow up doll?

-- Anyway, it is time for bed. May God bless you all!

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Just a bunch of words slapped together that make me sound like a cocaine cowboy

I don't really feel like writing. I have nothing to say. And I am lazy. But I feel bad when I don't write. Go figure. But I really don't have anything to say. I am just sitting here in my kitchen, watching reruns of Flip this House or something, drinking a glass of Jesus Juice, deciding if I should eat some cold left-over veggies from supper that are taunting me from the fridge, and basically just killing time before bed.
It's been a long week, as I have said. LONG fucking week. We all recovered from the flu, and then this cold set in, and it's knocked me on my ass all week. It's a really slow recovery. And my darling 3 year old has been having these tantrums all week, which I am mostly attributing to lack of sleep, but nevertheless, it's unsettling and upsetting when your otherwise perfect angel just wigs out and cries forever over stupid things.
And then, tonight, I ran to Walmart a couple hours ago to get diapers (for the baby, not for me - I can still shit on the toilet, thank you very much) and I was put off because of the stupid renos they are still doing in there (and moving everything all over the frigging place so you don't know where fuck all is), and I saw something that rattled me so bad I sort of got all choked up. These two greasy looking guys handcuffed this other greasy looking guy and were hauling him to the back of the store (I dunno why, because I thought you had to actually leave the store before they could do anything about shoplifting, but maybe they were cops who needed a shower, I dunno, and they were nabbing him for something else), but what got me was that following behind him was his bitch (just trying to use criminal lingo) and his daughter. It fucking broke my heart because this kid was maybe 7 or 8 if that, and she has to watch her dad be hauled off, and she was bawling and crying "Daddy!!" and I got all freaked out seeing this. I felt so horrible for her. And so thankful for my life. And so angry at the greasy cops for hauling him away like that, without thought for the trauma of the kid, and angry at the loser asshole daddy for being so stupid to be a criminal when his little girl needs a daddy who can hug her and kiss her and treat her like a princess, instead of being a loser thug, and mad at the baby-mama for just walking behind them and not saying anything to the kid, because she should be comforting the kid. But maybe she wasn't the mom, I don't know. I didn't stick around.
And holy fucking cannoli, yesterday was indeed Friday the 13th. Long story short, I was confused. I was supposed to go to Saskatoon for a presentation for work at, I thought, 1:30. But then, too hard to explain, but the presentation was in the morning so I missed it. But there was this OTHER thing at 1:30, so I decided to go for that. But I decided to take the OTHER highway, the scenic route, with a super narrow road, and got stuck behind a truck going 80, so I made it there with only 10 minutes to spare. So I get there, and try to find the building this presentation is in, and I am walking around the building and look again to see what room it was, and realize that this was where the MORNING presentation was, and that the one slated for 10 minutes was like 6 blocks away. SO, I actually made it there, but I was feeling so shitty I must have looked like death (as I heard from someone "you sure look sick"). So then I decided to not take the scenic route home so I head to Costco and pile up a cart of stuff and as I am in the check-out line, I realize someone from high school was next to me. This guy, who I actually think is probably a really nice guy after all, was someone who was sort of with a snooty crowd, and so I got these waves of Breakfast Club high school nausea seeing him there. But I play cool and unload my groceries like a normal person, but then this fucking 900 gallon jar of mayo (as only Costco can carry) slips from my hand and flops on the cement floor, exploding, shooting all over the floor and narrowly missing the guy's clothes, and his family (Margo, it was.... lemme give him a name.... JIM NECKLACE..... figure that one out. Rachel always calls him a cave man when we see him, if that helps). So, I look up at Jim, he looks at me, we sort of chuckle, and I want to die, because then the Costco people are all hopping, and the bitch cashier kept saying "God, all I smell is mayo" and I wanted to yell "if you don't like it, there are a 100 other people I can think of who would want the job, so don't let the door slap you on the ass on your way out, Monica!" And THEN, my bag of baby potatoes had a hole in it, so the potatoes start rolling out and they are all "you are too rough with your groceries, ha ha" and I wanted to smear them with floor mayonaise and shove baby potatoes up their stupid asses.
I am sure there was more from yesterday, but frankly, I don't care to remember it.
Ok, now I am back to my happy place. I have a friend who is all big on "The Secret", and while I think all that Oprah stuff is a load of bullshit, there's nothing wrong with thinking positively. So there, we will let the last week or two vanish, and only throw out love and peace to the universe.
Oh, one more thing. I have an infected thumb. It hurts and oozes. But, I am sure happy my other 9 digits are healthy and oh so nimble! (The Secret... keep thinking about The Secret).
OH, I read part of the Goldie Hawn book this week. It's a trip. That's about all I can say. She's all spiritual and it was laugh out loud funny (when she isn't intending it to be) and I had to skip all the India bullshit, but still, it sort of wasn't that hideous. But, yeah, it was a little precious..... ok, it was an eye-roller.... but I didn't mind it. I can't explain.
Hey, you beautiful people, do you ever just fall in love with a song or album or something from someone you love, after years of not thinking one way or the other about it? I am addicted to Joni's Ladies of the Canyon lately. It's always been a good one, but nothing I would ever say was great. Her third album, and it had Woodstock and The Circle Game, and Big Yellow Taxi on it, so it had those single type of things on it, and a couple others i love like Willie and Conversation and For Free. But the past few days, I've been addicted to "Rainy Night House" like you wouldn't believe. I never have really had that song make an impression on me before, but I keep playing it over and over. It reminds me of Carly Simon's "That the way I always Heard it Should Be", keeping in mind the songs are not at all alike. And since nobody but Kate will get this, I should just shut up.
Hey, I should introduce Kate to you all, as we are an inner circle, and I don't think I ever mentioned Kate. While I've known Margo for well over 1/2 of my life, and she's the type of friend who has done everything from placing her hand into a sinkful of my Southern Comfort vomit as a teenager to encouraging me to buy a 2000 dollar stove as an adult, and while I have only known Chunks and Devo in the cyber-way (oooh, that sounds so dirty!), it's like we're from the same womb. But Kate is someone I actually can put a name to the face. I have indeed met Kate, although only for a brief time. Kate, like me, is a Joni fanatic, and we know each other from the Joni Mitchell Discussion List, of which we are both members. I used to be a big-time poster on there, but since the kids arrived, I barely make a peep - about once a year. Anyway, we met the day we both met Joni, in 2000. She is from Saskatchewan too, so it was so cool to meet someone from here who gets the genius of Joni. Anyway, Kate is cool as all get-out, and while she was living in Alberta when we met, she is now in Sask., in a small town (Margo, the same small town where Helen used to own the Dairy Bar, where they made the best hamburgers and ice cream I have ever tasted, or at least they did in the early 80s when we'd pass through on our way to Indian Head). Anyway, Kate is an awesome writer and hers was actually the first blog I ever read, long before I knew the word blog. Anyway, I think Kate still pops in from time to time, so this is who she is. And Katie, what do you think of LOTC?
I dunno, there is something about the youthful exhuberence of Joni's "young" voice, and her songs, like Rainy Night House, where you just feel the vulnerability and promise of young love. And then she got jaded. And I don't care what the List says, the young voice kicks ass over the smoky voice. But whatever, that's just my thoughts.
And everyone, I lost the battle and decided to delve into the veggies. They are what they are... and they are BRILLIANT! They were just the typical fat-ladden spring dealy, you know, baby spuds, baby carrots, onion, and mushrooms, covered in olive oil, butter and seasoning salt, cooked in an aluminum pan-dealy-thingy, on the BBQ, until the veggies are soft, and the bottom ones are a little black-ish. Fucking brilliant as left-overs before bed, I say.
I also bought a new kind of chicken. I am an addict for the Hampton House Teryaki from Costco, but I bought Garlic and Herb or something, and it was pleasant. So tonight was a cornucopia of taste sensations. Brilliant, I say.
Ok, you can tell, I am rambling. I should be in bed. But I am not.
Hey, questions of the week: What do you think of the smell of Pine Sol? Clean or revolting? My father in law walked in here today and said "It smells like a fucking hospital" because i had some P.S. in the sink. I sort of like it ,but probably in a nostalgic way, because it's what my mom used to use when I was a kid. Do you ever worry that you just like things because of nostalgia? Like, would that Kraft processed cheese shit that came in the chubby tube that looked sort of sausage and dink-like really taste as good as I remember it to be? You know the shit I am talking about. Anyway, was it good, or is it just nostalgia? Same with Apsen Soda, the apple flavored pop. Was that shit good or hideous?
Hey, does anyone remember Treasure chocolate bars? It was like 6 different flavored pieces of chocolate, sort of like a box of chocolates, but they were joined by chocolate? Or Danish Delights? Or do you want me to get off of sentimental street altogether? LOL, or does anyone remember the song "Sentimental Street" by Night Ranger? And I have to say this: What in the fuck did the song "Sister Christian" ever mean? Like, what in the fuck was that stupid thing? "Motoring....." Gimme a frigging break....
It's ok. Just went out and got the kennel, looking like that bitch from Blair Witch - you know, all freaked out, snot running down my face.....
Anyway, I suppose I should bite the bullet and get ready for bed. I bought the new People at Walmart because it had Valerie Bertinelli on the cover. I don't know if I ever shared that I was so in love with her as an 8 year old I had a "Val Wall" devoted to pictures of her, but I did. Anyway, the picture was so hideous, they had her dressed in a muu muu, saying she was going to lose 30 lbs or something ,I had to buy it. So I guess I will just go do that.
Have a lovely Sunday peoples. Remember, keep the thoughts positive and send it out to the universe, and maybe, just maybe, we'll become the next Oprahs (and then we can corner HER and say "you eat compulsively, you won't marry Steadman after 40 years, and you buy into self-help drivel: honey, who are you to be preaching at us about ANYTHING? ")
Ok, that was mean, sorry - I just felt anti-Opie for a moment. Quick, call Dr. Phil - I wanna talk to him about that freaky-ass wife of his. Fucking Joan Rivers better watch her back, with that stretched faced robot....
hehehhhehehe, I really am going to bed now, non-stop free-association typing has ended.
Love and Other Indoor Sports,

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

blah blah and yadda

Short and sweet because I am tired - just saying that I am still alive. Really, I am. However, it's been just a bitch of a time the past week or so. Work has been really hectic, and then last week, we all got sick. I woke up at 4 a.m. last Wednesday morning after a long, disturbing, interrupted sleep, realizing that my problem was not sleeplessness and restless leg syndrome (no idea what that is, other than from the description from the old Q-Vel commercials in the 80s), but rather that I was nauseated and had that bubbly puke feeling in the back of my throat. As you know, I have my irrational fear of vomiting, and I've puked only once from non-alcohol related illness in the past 22 years, so I wasn't looking forward to it. So I jumped out of bed, grabbed a bowl, went back into the bedroom to put on a shirt because I was cold, sat on the couch and turned on 90210, and then wham, Kelly cries out "My tummy hurts!" so I run there, with bowl in hand, go to her top bunk, throw the bowl on her lap, and she pukes. And proceeds to puke until 1 in the afternoon. Needless to say, we didn't get much sleep. So I don't end up puking but get the runs, and I shit like a goose for the next week. Anyway, by noon that day, Rachel is puking, and can't move, and at midnight, Kristen starts puking, so it was a gong show. Good Friday was spent bleaching the house down. We even bought Pine Sol just to get a good cleaner smell in the air. And we washed every frigging blanket, sheet, and towel in the house, just to get it all clean and fresh feeling. But anyway, everyone recovered ok, but Brianne ended up with a cold, and now I have a cold I can't shake, and i look like shit and feel like shit and my shitting has finally stopped in the past day or two, but I am exhausted from not sleeping and not breathing. And my kids are so overtired. And I've gained a whole bunch of weight and that makes me feel terrible. So, I need to get it together again. And I will. This weekend. When the chocolate should finally be gone.

So that's where I have been. And I am so tired right now.
Anyway. That's about all the news that fits.
But the one thing I need to comment on - my dear friend Chunks is going through her move finally. And she's really being hit hard by the anxiety. Chunks, if you see this, email me and let me know how it's going. I can talk you down. I think you can only be talked down by someone who has been through it, the whole "I can't leave the house because I am going to vomit and my nerves are so bad each minute feels like an hour and I wish I could drug myself into oblivion" feeling. So let me talk you down.
And Margo, where have you been hiding? What's new?
Ok, gotta get my fat ass to bed.