Looking for the following:

chloroform

earmuffs/plugs

Extra Strength pediatric/children's tranquilizers

an answer to the never ending question of "but why mom?"

a dozen Hostess Chocolate Cupcakes (creme filled)

2 bottles of wine (incase one isn't enough)

1 size 6x childs straitjacket

1 size 2T childs straitjacket

a Plymouth rock sub from safeway

6 pack of Stella

OTH season 7 (i'm about to start a marathon)

a heating pad

family pack of robaxicet platinum

if you have any of the above, please send to:

1 Insane Lane
Crazytown, MB
Canada
OOH FME

I had a talk with myself last night....it seemed to be that time again

There something to be said for reflection, for remembering the moments that shaped you, even the painful ones. Especially those ones. Those are the ones that bring pro-longed and lasting change, and strength. Happy ones are great, don't get me wrong, but in my own personal experience, the painful ones are the ones that burn deep enough in the memory of the heart to scar, to remind, to purify.

There are a lot of me's. Happy me, thoughtful me, patient me, selfish me, neurotic me, pensive me, mom me, wife me, friend me, daughter me,crazy me, emotional me, etc, I call them the other me's. We all have them. But there is one true me. It's made up of all the other me's plus the me that is mixed with you. It's the me that sits next to you on the couch and breathes in time with you. It's calm and centered me, it's completely vulnerable and unabashedly honest me.

It's wonderful, and incredibly easy to get comfortable being that me, and that's the problem.
Because when I look around, it is just me, alone, in that moment. Exposed while you've kept your distance, as usual.

And then it floods back to my memory, as it should, to wake me up, to keep me safe, to remind me. .. to always be the other me. To give me the strength to be only her. So I let myself remember everything, I let myself remember how to walk away and give you what you wanted.

The talk
I had to tell my heart today
That yours had gone away.
I had to hold it while it cried,
And asked why yours didn’t stay.

I said, “Sometimes things happen,
And that love is not enough.”
I said, “Sometimes we can’t hang on,
And that letting go is tough.”

It sobbed and asked me where yours went,
And why it didn’t say good-bye?
It asked why you said you’d never leave,
And how your heart could lie?

I told it that I didn’t know,
And that we were on our own.
It told me that it would have loved you still,
Even if it would have known.

It told me that it felt empty,
That it felt sad, used and alone.
It told me that your heart had been,
The place that it called home.

So I took it in my hands,
And held it while it wept.
It cried for all the promises
That your heart never kept.

I knew my heart was broken,
Though it did not say a word.
It closed its doors and locked them,
So it would not be heard.

I took the deepest breath I could,
As tears fell from my face.
Because I knew my heart would never leave,
The darkness of this place.

blog update:

well i have official copyright for my book and therefore have decided to post all previous/temporarily on hold posts. So everything is back in a sarcastic, happy, pensive, deep down and teary eyed, vengeful way!

So enjoy reading some of your old favorites.

Unspoken last words

Oh, pardon me, I've spilled my guts
If you'd only move, I'd pick them up
And put them back where they belong,
Inside of me, not in a song,
Or in a letter for you to hold,
When nothing melts a heart that's cold.
I know better this time, come on and face it,
You know you'd only throw out, or waste it,
And I can't take more of that,
When being quiet is where it's at.
I mean look at you,
Standing there in silent safety,
Never uttering a word to save me,
Because in you they don't exist,
And now I see that's what I missed,
I missed the words you never said,
I didn't see the absence of,
A heart that carried any love…for me.
And yet my mouth and heart betrayed me,
Giving away the words that fill me… to you.
Sharing thoughts that almost kill me…with you.
Sacrificing both pride and dignity…for you.
But no more.
This heart has tamed it's need to feel.
All that remains, is the hurt to heal.

Dear Crazy Lady on the Corner,

ok, you've been creeping me out ALL summer. Everyday I could count on you to be standing there on the corner of my bay, with your ratty looking toque and poking stick aimed at the local school children, armed with that "crazy wild" look in your eyes like you were right there... Living on the edge of sanity, ready to pounce.

And now that it's actually Fricken winter outside, what I want to know is...WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR TOQUE?

I mean, plus 30, sure as shit, your toque is so far on it's practically a turtleneck. But now, it's minus myass outside, and you are dressed completely inappropriately!

Shame on you. If I thought that I had a chance in hell of getting that stick away from you, you can be sure that I would poke some sense into you. Are you rebelling or just EXTRA crazy with the weather change.

Maybe that's it. Maybe you're just ramping up the crazy to give you an edge over the half blind guy on the other corner. You know, the one with the ponytail and the cane that is always walking his "invisible dog" on the leash. I can only assume he thinks it's invisible otherwise he'd have to admit that all he does is drag a leash around every time he goes for a walk, and that my friend WOULD be crazy. This way he's creative or eccentric.

Between you and me, I still think you're the craziest Bitch on the Block so please put your toque back on.

Sincerely,
Creeped out, Caring and Concerned

Dear Mickey Mouse,

I'm old enough to realize that writing my wish list to Santa Claus is useless, because he doesn't exist. (don't read this if you are under the age of 8 or if you are my grandpa, because I'm not here to kill dreams or get lectured on the "magic of believing")

You however not only exist but very well may be the most powerful mouse and for that matter public figure in the free world, not to mention you are rich to the tits. You my friend have had your little mouse hands in the proverbial cookie jar for the better part of the last century.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging, on the contrary, I'm proud, and jealous. I LOVE YOU Mickey Mouse ,and your land of fantastical magical shizzle that you formed from nothing more than your own two hands and a dream. Now with those same two hands I implore you to make my Christmas wish come true.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE ,PLEASE, PLEASE, let me win a free trip to Disney World, just once. Have I been there before? yes. Should that count against me? no. I mean how many other people have gone there and then have been caught planning a trip elsewhere the next time around, stating that, "we've been there already, once is enough"

!?!?!???????!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?

What? Deplorable. They should be shot.

once is never enough.

ever.

once a year maybe? Like EVERY year for the rest of your lives. Maybe that's a start.

I'm going to go balls to the walls here Mick and be totally vulnerable with you

Lay it all on the line and let you make the call.

I miss you.

There. I said it. and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

I'm 33 (almost) and you make me feel like a schoolgirl again.

So this Christmas my only wish is to see your little mouse cheeks smiling at me in person.........

or.... a Speedo 150lap Top-Pusher water resistant to 100meters swim watch.



either or, I'm not picky.

I'll take the fall

So far I fall like this to forget you...
Willing to lose myself if it means losing you in the process...
A fool I was to believe I was enough,
to believe the words that you drop to keep me...
Eating the lies that you feed me,
believing that you ever loved me...
I'm just a toy to amuse you.
A thing that you cling to when your bored with the rest.
And still, everything about you delights me...ignites me...burns me...scars me.
I can hear you whispering that you'd never harm me
But the marks that you make in me leave me a mess.
And me without you will always be less...
So less is what I'm willing to be, less.. and alone..
Less and free, from everything about you...

At the front lines, choices are made, loves are lost and loves are saved.

"Love puts all logic to sleep. Otherwise we wouldn't risk it." - unknown

It is a meditative state. Romance is important, it draws us in, it allows us to get close enough to make a deeper connection and prepares us for the real journey. Love is a bright light in the universe, but a bright light casts a dark shadow... You have to choose where you want to be. You have to remember that people never really belong to each other, no matter what kind of contract they sign or promise they may make. They have to choose each other everyday. They have to make that commitment everyday.

I say this in retrospect, to a conversation that I had recently, and the words that I should have said at the time. The thoughts were there but the words weren't forming. But in truth I say it to my future as well, I hope to keep this at the forefront of my mind, and to make the right choice everyday.

It's not you, it's me. I don't like you.

Someone told me today that I had the perfect face for toques and that they themselves were in fact jealous of my toque wearing skills. Apparently my face is the "perfectly round little cute squishy face" needed to pull off that sophisticated toque look.

Don't get me wrong, I do see that their intention was to compliment me. Which I DO greatly appreciate. That being said, I seem to draw these types of "compliments" quite frequently (no I'm not bragging), actually I'm wondering if it's me, or them. I mean it's like saying to a midget, "hey, you're sooo lucky that you are that short cause you can shop in the Youth/Jr section and save a ton of cash. I wish I was that short." or "hey, that MuuMuu (or Moo Moo) looks fabulous on you!! I wish I had the figure to pull off a MuuMuu the way you do! Gosh, so adorable." Do you see where I'm going here. Compliment …. Sure.. But really??? Yeah. .. . No.

Example number deux: I was at a party once where I was introduced to another woman and her response was to excitedly inform me that I looked,"just like that movie star!! Ohhhhh what's her name again? Um, from silence of the lambs? I say," You mean Jodie Foster." (knowing that we both have blond hair, pale skin and are females) She snaps her fingers and exclaims, "yes!! Yes, Jodie Foster! Exactly. .. Well except just a little chubbier" (yep, and there she stood, smiling, all proud of herself for complimenting me)

Really? REALLY?! I'm pretty sure that I already came to that conclusion when you made the comparison. OBVIOUSLY, you meant that we share a vague likeness, not that we were identical twins separated at birth, because after all Jodie Foster is rail thin and should probably be sponsored monthly by a World Vision type organization to ensure quality medical care and a steady food supply. I on the other hand… AM NOT BLIND. HELLOOO McFLY, I look in the mirror everyday and it has yet to escape my attention that I'm not exactly in danger of starving.

But hey dipshit .. It's a good thing you clarified that whole chubbier distinction out loud, because I was just about to have my name legally changed to Jodie Foster all because of your asinine compliment. Whewww!!!! Close call.

I was SO taken with her compliment that I felt equally as moved to bestow one of my own. "That's soo weird," I say, "you look just like that Super Model!! Ohhhh what is her name?? Uh, yeah, Claudia Schifferrrrrr..'s retarded cousin."
And smiling.. Smiling…. Silence.
ZINGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And plie and curtsy and moving on to the open bar.

Seriously, I know it was a childish and shallow move on my part, but honestly, I couldn't resist.
I mean, WHO does that????
Whores. Whores do that.

Where's Eddie Money when you need him?

Wow, feels like it's been a while since I've talked (written) -- straight up, no in between the lines, I wanna talk about it, but not really talk about it poem crap. It feels pretty good.
I've had a rough couple of days, energy wise. (who hasn't? crazy thanksgiving.)
Damn people everywhere. A wedding, which by the way was a very nice time, beautiful bride, beautiful dress, beautiful day, Open bar and best of all a Cupcake cake with cupcakes all around it!! I love cupcakes with a love that should be considered criminal. I'm disturbed what can I say?
I had a wine bath last after that, literally. (Although I will admit the tub is by far the best place to be when spilling wine:)

And that brings me to today…

My head today just won't stop hammering.
Pretty much feels like you could curb stomp me and maybe it would help a little, but I make no promises.
Seeing as the curb stomping is not so much of an option for me, I plan to take prescription and non-prescription meds to cope.

** "thank you Diazepam for making my life livable again!!" **
There is my glowing endorsement to the pharmaceutical industry.

Granted that I may have contributed to my present condition, by aiding in the slight dehydration that my body is currently experiencing but I will not claim all the responsibility. Some of this is the work of other various and fiendish foes that shall remain nameless. Let's just call them Mr. Blue and Mrs. Red. (These names are factually based and not fictitious.) .. (for real).
But I would like to say, this to all the kids out there:
You booze. You lose.

Another would be:
You don't snooze, you also lose.

Let's face it, naps are super important, especially when you have a teething infant that contracts every mutation of the cold virus that could possibly ever come into being. Don't be confused here, I DO mean naps for me, the parent. I don't sleep at night and now, naps are getting seriously rare during the day as well. It's bullshit is what it is. How can I be expected to function on any level?

Ridiculous.

So today, my plan is sleep.
Yep, that is it.
No books, no movies, NO BOOZE, definitely no booze, and no hanky panky (my spouse better be reading this). JUST SLEEP.
Man, just saying it, sounds SOOOOO good:) haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, le sigh.

The Sweet Disease

A look, a lie, and it all takes life.
Tension so palpable
you could cut it with a knife
Talking round in circles,
Faster they seem to fly,
Accusations lead to fire,
Burning out from the inside,
He curses out in rages,
Bleeds what he won't give,
She takes his every anger,
Gives him what he needs to live.
but he's so broken hearted...
so the words they say,
Are nothing more than forgotten.
Tumble aside, against the grain,
Falling hard, she hears the pain, but doesn't feel it.
But he's so sorry, so sorry,
Never again. And again, and again…
A promise from a monster, a shadow round the bend.
Hiding in the actions that words could never mend.
But she believes it, believes it all the same,
She's come to need it, comes to love and crave the pain.
His fire becomes an ember,
And she sees it start to die,
So she stokes it just a little,
Still scared of what's inside.
Seeing this he grins, eyes gleaming.
Knowing regardless she'll end the night screaming.
Ecstasy or misery?
A line too blurred to see...

Lemony Snickets had it right, it really is a series of unfortunate events that leads to the end of it all, isn't it?

How many times can you hurt something before it doesn't heal anymore? How many times can you beat it before it breaks? Love beaten down eventually becomes something else altogether doesn't it? if i take a bike for example: it was made to function a certain way, yet if i take a hammer to it, to the parts that are integral for it to work, then it no longer resembles a bike, it no longer performs the way it was meant to. I might get the dents out, get it working again, but it will never ride the same. I'm begining to think love is no different. .. .

I think I'll quote the ever deep and angsty Foo on this, because right now, they are speaking my language.


"Best Of You"

I've got another confession to make
I'm your fool
Everyone's got their chains to break
Holdin' you

Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Are you gone and onto someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn't have
But had no use
I was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can't choose
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...

Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love
you die to heal
The hope that starts
the broken hearts
You trust, you must
Confess

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

I've got another confession my friend
I'm no fool
I'm getting tired of starting again
Somewhere new

Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

-- The Foo Fighters

today i make the promise to myself never to forget things that should be remembered..

Random Baths #36: Sep 17/10

So I decided to share a tidbit from my quirkier side. I realize this may seem weird to some of you, and to those individuals I say, "shut it. Nobody asked you to read this, Okay Judger Guy? And As if you don't have way freaken weirder shit going on anyways." So I LOVE taking baths, this stems from the fact that I have ridiculously poor circulation and therefore I am always cold. normal you say, yes but here's the quirky, I like taking baths at random houses of friends or even at parties if I'm cold. I want to secretly get into the Guinness book for this one day.

I said shut it.

ANYWAYS…

I was at an outdoor work shindig and it was blisteringly cold. Like freeze the nuts off a squirrel, Luke Skywalker hypothermic on Hoth having to cut open a friggen animal to crawl inside and cuddle with it's steaming entrails cold. I kid you not. So naturally after it was over I went to a friends to thaw by the fire and attempt to warm myself by ingesting legally reasonable amounts of alcohol. This just wasn't cutting it. I needed to be submerged in searingly hot water, preferably with high powered jets and bubbles smelling of chocolate and baked goods. To my surprise my dear host had these exact ingredients required to cure my near death condition. Although her bubbles smelled more of warm floral then chocolate, but hey, it was pretty damn close, and I don't look in gift whores mouths for anything. … disgusting, filthy whores...ouu my favorite;) (horse? I dunno but my way sounds better and makes WAY more sense.)

I just want to add here, that I like to think of myself as a Bath Critic. The same as a Food Critic or a Movie Critic. You should be so lucky as to have me in your tub. I have only the highest of hygiene standards and am a borderline germaphobe so I'm not just jumping in anybody's wash bay here. Only the upscale, and extremely clean bathtubs are even taken into consideration when making the decision venue wise for one of my Random Baths. If I walk in and you got the grime, you're done. I'm out. And there are NO second chances here my friend. I'm not the forgiving type when it comes to this area. So if I do ask to use your tub, you should be elated at the opportunity, and thrilled at the possible overnight notoriety and super stardom status that this could bring to you.

At this particular venue I had a short but amazing time.
It completely scored high on my 3C's O-Meter:
1) Clean - this is a big one. This was an immaculately clean bathroom. Kudos to you hostess.
2) Comfortable - this was officially the longest bathtub I've ever been in. It was like an Olympic swimming lane. And granted I may have been a little drunk but I swear Michael Phelps passed me during my second lap. I could have laid flat and been submerged head to toe. None of this eating your knees crap. NICE.
3) Calming - this is crucial as it is the total purpose of the random bath. To be soothed, cradled, loved by the tub. This is what you want. This is the ultimate goal. To forget that you are in a foreign tub and to feel completely at home.

I got out pink from head to toe and in complete bliss.
I give this Random Bath a whopping 9.5 rings around the tub out of possible 10.
Congratulations to the hostess, I will recommend this to all our friends.

Round and Round she goes, where she stops nobody knows..

It's like I'm gambling, just not with money but I'm addicted all the same..
I did it again, I let you in, and you bankrupt me…emotionally.
Why? I ask myself, what is it that you get when I am hurt by what you've said?
What possible pleasure could there be?
But there it is.. You enjoy it, that much is obvious to me.
You seem to need to punish me.
To control the parts that make me feel, that make me free.
And here I'm down, drowning, in debt,
You own me now, I just don't know it yet.
Maybe I can come out alive, give you the chance to fold this time.
A chance to change, to be the same, to be the one who doesn't love my pain.
But your smile tells me something else,
It tells of how you love yourself,
Your beauty is convincing and I see what I want to see.
Thinking that this time you'll make the choice that's best for me.
You hold the queen of hearts,
And I wonder if you'll play her,
In reality I agree, that not much else could take her.
You play her, no mercy and you've won but she's broken.
You think that she'll forgive you, after all she's just a token.
But you don't see that she's slipped away, that the love she had for you is at stake.
Dealt to another, in their hand she lays, and thinks of all the mistakes she's made,
This time when the game is played
You'll realize the price you've paid.
And me I got my chance to live.
A life without a heart to give.
Instead I stay, and spin the wheel,
Hoping I'll win a chance to feel.
so here I stand with open hands
and wait to see where your heart lands.

foot in mouth disease runs rampant yet again...

wow. men are really something.
i actually didn't intend at all on blogging about this..
i had something much more important to me emotionally, things that needed to be worked through out loud (on paper) but then out of no where, HE does it, HE comes along and now here i am on a tangent that is just screaming to be heard.

and scene:

husband in the bathroom after running on the treadmill, looking all "Hotty McFit" (yes he was sweaty too, but it was that worked out hard, muscles flexed unintentionally, clean sweat, that sweat i mind less.. but still, get your ass in the shower and we'll talk) anyways he comes into the bathroom where i am getting ready (brushing teeth, moisturizing etc) and in the interest of full disclosure I'm in self loathing mode here on the physical front. So there i am, panties and bra, preforming my nightly ritual and he walks past me all whistling and hops in the shower...

WELLL yeah i guess, I'd be whistling too, if i could run like the cop from Terminator 2 without ever training, i mean, it's practically effortless for him, and he can just drop 25 pounds in 2 months with just the power of his mind!!!!

so he says to me, "hey baby, whatcha thinking about?" followed by, "wow, do i feel great. Just a few more pounds to go"

i reply, "This is all your fault!! YOU did this to me! I had your babies and now I'm scarred for life! literally, 2 C-sections and stretch marks that look like i had flames tattooed on my stomach! Not to mention the perfectly donut shaped ring of fat that is 6" in diameter that will NEVER i repeat NEVER go away without surgical assistance!!"

He starts blabbing about how good i look, blah blah blah, trying to calm me down, yet another attempt to soothe me into submission and impregnate me and add another dozen to the donut box! (pardon my vulgarity)

anyways, I'm not buying the "i love you and you ARE skinny" pep talk, so i wander off into the bedroom and hop into bed, ready to leave it at that and let bygones be bygones when suddenly...

in walks Mr. Naked from the waist up/towel from the waist down CLEAN/HOT/FIT guy, still running his mouth about my physical appearance trying to end the conversation on a positive note (i know, I'm laughing too, it's OK)

so he starts in by saying, "you know what I look for in a woman honey?" (in my head I'm thinking, really did you just say that? your answer better be nothing, because i am a happily married man) he says," I'm looking for beautiful eyes and a full and beautiful mouth..which you have, and great breasts..which you have, and a round and beautiful butt and great legs..which you have, and you've got that other great thing that i love." (wink wink) "the rest i don't care about"

really? cause the rest is all the stuff that i am NOT happy with and it's pretty much half of my body, so that's great that you're all fine with it. I'm really F@$king happy that your world is great.

oh wait, did i forget momentarily that this conversation was about how you feel? Silly me, I thought that this was about me? about how i feel about me? i didn't realize that this whole conversation was about if you were OK with how i looked. wheww!! thank goodness, well that just changes EVERYTHING now doesn't? in that case I'm totally happy with 50% of myself too!! yay!! cheers for us and our supreme happiness with my mediocrity!! Plus it's reassuring to know that if I'm ever in an accident where I become a deformed freak and lose 50% of my body or at least the motor skills and functionality in 50% of it, you'll be OK. (well as long as it's the 50% of my body that you look for in me.)

well. excellent. now if only we had men to fix all our problems with their sensible and logical talk life would be soooo much simpler...literally.

Geez.

so i, not being able to stand much more of this "pep talk" say, "thanks honey, you're so smart, i feel better already."

and they say women always want to talk.

what's left but not forgotten

I'm falling,
In ways that I could never imagine.
From heights that feel more like depths
To a place with no end.
Nothing to break that moment where your heart is rammed up in your throat.
I'm inside out,
All messed up from the words that surround me,
The thoughts so intense that I'm drowning.
And you're just standing there watching.
Staring, still and stoic.
I'm screaming, it's the end and I know it.
The end of me.
My minds blown.
And the bits that are left are all fucked up.

A day late... but worth the wait??

Haaaappy Birrrrthday to youuuuuuu..
Haaaappy Birrrrthday to youuuuuuu..

Haaaaaaaaapy Birrrrrrthday DEAR Gigi my Bestfriend in the whole wide world who makes my life a better place just by smiling and harassing me and feeding me vegetables and making sure that i don't OD on sugar and sugar related products......

Haaaappy Birrrrthday to youuuuuuu.
and many many many more.

ps. i would just like to say that i have thee best best friend that anyone could ever find. thee end.

out on the ledge

what can i say? i miss you .. .
always,
in all ways..

moments apart feel like more like weeks
and it's all i can do to stay sane,
or pass for it anyway.

I say I'd take a pass on it, if i could.
who the hell do you talk to about that anyway?
is there the a complaint dept or 1-800 number for this shit?

no, i didn't suppose there was.
never hurts to put it out there does it?
...
or does it?

putting it out there, laying it all on the line.
being honest, vulnerable .. or worse yet, weak.
does it hurt? it feels so right in the moment,
so cathartic, so liberating, to share the burdens of a heavy heart.
to feel known, understood. To not feel alone.

isn't that what we all want? the human condition, is one of constant need.
we were made as half of something, someone, walking the earth,
waiting ...

waiting for them, that person that has the other half of us in them.
The person that we need, the way we need water, air.
The one who slows the world down for us, the one that makes us calm, that allows us to breathe the way we were meant to.

you give me that.
i need you to give me that.

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programing to bring you this SPECIAL NEWS UPDATE:

I'm in the process of doing something BIG or at lease what I would consider a fairly "BIG" deal anyway. It's actually been one of my life long dreams to complete and now I've started the ball rolling so to speak!!

"YAY!! but what the crap does this have to do with us?", i know that this is what you are all thinking. And unfortunately at this point in time i'm not at liberty to divulge that information. However it will all become known in a relatively short amount of time so bare with me. In the interim, my blog's post/content has been somewhat edited temporarily.

I thank you in advance for your understanding and support.

peace out.

(i've always wanted to end like that, just in a super nerdy way, socially contridictory to my uncool appearance. i love it. i know, i'm sick, i have a disease and need to seek psychiatric help. i'm aware, i'm aware.)

Decisions Decisions

"Oh, hello there Confusion, have you seen my Old Me? I put her right here so I could go take a pee. And She seems to have run off. What's that you say? She walked out with Self Confidence, that damn sly Mr. So! She's gone off and left me here waiting you know."

Waiting for laughter and all that she brings, and she's out and about doing all sorts of things. I guess I never was that much fun, worried New Me, hanging out here, with my friend Misery. Misery's calm, She's introspective and free. But as calm as She is, what a bitch She can be. She's very attached and can be overwhelming With all of her crying, and sulking and yelling. That's why I need Old Me, She knew how to roll. She always told Misery right where to go! When I needed a shoulder she be up for the lean, When I needed a kick in the pants, she was mean. But mostly I loved her because she was easy, We'd talk for hours and she was never too busy.

And now she's run off with Self Confidence? Ever since they met, her words never mince. She's told me before and has said it again, "Let Misery go and let me back in." That She won't make the time to sit and compete, when I'm taking my time and dragging my feet. She told me straight out that,"Misery's no friend, and if you weren't so hooked, that you'd see that …
And end it."

So I must make a choice of this I'm certain, but how do you let go of Misery when you're hurting?
Old Me awaits me somewhere out there, with Self Confidence by her side and an invitation to share.
Do I do it, do I dare, let go of the comforts of all that I know?
"Confusion can you stop for a second and help me let go?"
"Confusion?"
"Hello?"

Oh the shame of it all!!

Well .. I did it. I've become what I loathe. A walking talking Blackberry user.
Here I am on my knee's ready to take my public verbal "caning" if you will.

As many of you know, I've voiced my disgust with the Crackberry users, unable to maintain a focused conversation with anyone but their electronic LOVER. Those friends that read emails and text while you are actually speaking to them, the ones that get all fidgety the moment it notifies them that they have a message waiting or someone calling. It's like they go crazy. Seriously, it's an addiction I swear. My favourite is when they almost completely tune you out and try to pretend like they're still listening, all the while nervously glancing at their phone and answering questions you didn't even ask. It's rude and insulting. And frankly it drives me insane. So I vowed to never get one....

Today the universe decided to make me eat those words. My perfectly great LG plain Jane, easy to operate phone, (that I love) died. Out of no where, without warning, the screen just went black and never recovered. I have no house phone and two children under the age of 5. I need a phone. .. NOW. So I take a fun and exciting trip down to the local cell phone contract store and low and behold the girl is actually incredibly helpful. That being said, she can't help me out of the 14 months left on my contract or give me a replacement without charging me the penalties($400 plus), unless.....

Yep, you guessed it. If I upgrade my phone to a Blackberry, they will wave the fees and give me a "loyalty"credit (since when is extortion considered an act of loyalty?), and it'll cost me $60 with a free case at a $40 value so that's like only paying $20. She was great at math. But that was only with the Blackberry, any other phone and I was going to have to:
A) take out a loan, or
B) pawn some jewelry (which I would have to steal first as mine is all fake).
As option A is undesirable and option B, while filled with the possibility of intrigue and adventure, what with the hobnobbing with the criminal underbelly and such, is very labor intensive. And unfortunately I have a severe allergy to labor of any kind. I weighed my options and choose to give up my sworn vow against the Blackberry in favor of the mighty dollar.

And so I prostrate myself before you, and will take the punishment (verbal abuse) that I so richly deserve. That being said, I'd prefer if you'd all just shut you pie holes and mind your business. I don't go round asking about your shit.

p.s. Does anyone out there know how the hell to use these things?? Like geez, I don't want to program the fricken space shuttle launch here, I just want to make a phone call!!

A subtle reminder to Ye my many friends and followers

Today is now officially July 7. And this being so makes today my VERY MERRY 6 Month UNBIRTHDAY!!! As you all know I love to celebrate all my unbirthdays almost as much as my real birthday. So drinks are on me!! ouuu..FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN!!!

Less Loonie with a Toonie: The Upside to Needing People and Other Vulnerable Admitions made possible by Mother Nature

So emotional me is back this month, thank you mother nature for the gift that just keeps on giving! And here i was feeling bad that I didn't get you anything. Guess I'm just a bitch like that, but then again, that's what you made me.

Ahh, but I digress. As I was saying... I'm at a heightened state of sensitivity, a "code yellow" if you will. A giant dam, ready to burst at the wrong word, or tone of voice. It's crazy actually, I would even go so far as to say it's a form of mild and temporary insanity.

Example #1: Last night, I walked into my daughters room to put away some laundry, literally right as I stepped into her room, I felt an instantaneous mood shift. I suddenly realized that I was all alone (kids asleep, husband working), and the house was quiet and I immediately was overwhelmed by all these feelings of being tired, ragged, emotionally weighed down by so much responsibility that it turned into a tangible physical weight. I sat down and tears began to pour out of my eyes. I felt unknown, alone, and beaten. You start to think these completely irrational thoughts, not on purpose, they just come on their own, out of the blue. Things like:

I'm not enough.
I'm a failure.
I'm alone, no one really knows me, understands me.
Was this what I was really supposed to do with my life?
Is this who I was supposed to be?
Did I make the wrong decision, the wrong choice?
I wish that I could just go to sleep and this would all go away.
Just hide...from myself.

Now I'm not saying that these are your exact thoughts. They are just some common ones, but I am saying that everyone has these moments, these thoughts, and anyone who tells you different is lying, either to you or themselves.
These thoughts are scary, really scary. They can undermine everything, twist everything. You have to be really careful. I can see how anyone, if they aren't aware of the origins of the contributing factors, can be hit by the "Perfect Storm" emotionally speaking and be swept away...give in and ..give up. I have to always keep at the forefront of my mind that it's just a moment. And it will pass. Things will be better again, and I won't feel this way forever. That God is always with me and that I am a mental temp because it is His will to allow it, and then He won't give me more than I can endure.

wow. tangent. Anyways, last night I did what I do when I'm totally and completely desperate.. . I called my one and only BFF.. and left a message like a crazy. But the truth is that just hearing her voice (even automated), the voice of someone who knows and cares about me, the voice of another female that I know can be at least a fraction as mental as me, made me feel ok. Made me feel better, hopeful. Most importantly it allowed me to breathe again. When I feel like I did last night, it's like Mike Tyson punched me straight shot, and my chest just caved in under the force of it. It's like a super vortex, a black hole, a vacuum that just sucks up all that shit and keeps it inside, suffocating me, leaving no room for air. And the moment that I decided to make the call, to be weak, it felt like I could breathe again.

So today was a better day, I felt better. I was craving vanilla soft serve in a waffle cone. A nutrient my body was clearly lacking, so I indulged. In fact I feel much better, because it apparently is also a mood elevator. who knew?

The Recipe for a Happy Me...is You

Ingredients:
1 Part Me
1 Part You
1 teaspoon patience.
2 buckets full of laughter
2 hearts with the capacity for love
A little bit of Dough $$$
A dash of sarcasm

Directions:
Place ingredients in dimly lit room with appropriate music, add wine and heat slowly until combined.

I'm all over the map when I'm not with you,
I lie and I deny, but my heart knows it's true.
I'm bitchy and neurotic, I'm empty, in the dark.
I look around for something to fill me with that spark
But it's impossible…..
And, I know…
There's nothing even close to what your light illuminates.
The subtle invitation of excitement that you create.
The way you manifest a better version of the world.
Making me believe that I could be a better girl.
But it's impossible ....
And, I know…
What a messy mix, this recipe for love..
Any other person would've had enough.
But I still follow it, and knead it, bend it and beat it.
No matter how burnt it is, in the end I'll keep it.
It's impossible...
And, I know…
The one thing that I know is that there are many flavors in this life.
For me you are the sweetness and my little dash of spice.
You're all my favorite things, in one perfect little pack.
As long as you are with me, my life will never lack.
So as impossible… as this may be.
It's fairly easy, for me to see,
That there are no other options.
This, I know...

The Perfect Gift

Now that that is off my chest I would like to take a minute to make a notable mention to someone on the complete and total opposite end of the mental spectrum.

today, I was unbelievably touched by the kindness and thoughtfulness of one of the sweetest human beings that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. A very dear friend of mine, surprised me today, I mean REALLY and truly, surprised me. She got me a gift, a beautiful gift by the way, gorgeous... anyways, as I was saying, she got me this gift totally out of the blue. When I asked her why, she simply replied,"I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate and value you and all that you've done for me..."

C'mon!! As if, right?
(I was shocked... and very deeply and profoundly moved.)

To think that someone took the time to go out of their way to surprise me, to acknowledge my presence in their life.

wow. It really made me think.
and feel....
To be thought of, to feel really appreciated. To realize for a moment the impact that I can have on someone else, their life, their happiness. It felt good, and a little overwhelming too. .. but good.

So thank you to you my dear, you know who you are.
much love.

Fuckin Perry.

Fucking Perry!
seriously??!!?
This guy at work is killing me.
Nope, cancel that.
If he was actually killing me, I'd be better off.
Today he drove me so unbelievably insane with his never ending barrage of completely unrelated to anything pertinent questions and his "boy that cried wolf" false alarms, that I circled the incinerator .. twice, debating if I should waste my time trying to lure him there and dispose of his useless ass. (To be honest with you the thought of just having to talk to him again was enough for me to seriously consider just throwing myself in.) I also toyed with the possibility of orchestrating an unfortunate forklift "accident" and bump him off that way.

The guy's like RainMan's slightly awkwarder, but totally more mental older brother.
And what IS UP with the vacant stares/giggling???
when he's talking to you, (I use the words "to you" loosely) you are literally left with the feeling that there is someone right behind you, like over your shoulder about to touch you inappropriately or steal your wallet, behind you. I physically have to pause every few seconds just to double check, he's that convincing.

I know some of you are thinking, "awww, poor him, you're too hard on him. He's probably just eccentric. Give the guy a break."

To you folks I say, "ah, yeeeeeah. no."
He's a creep, handing out the heebiee jeebie's like they're balloons at the fair, goofy grin and all.

There is always one crazytown in the bunch, that is just sooo my luck.
Fucking Perry.

Round n' Round We Go...

I walk around,
and back to you.
You pull me down,
and I sit through,
all the bullshit.

You yell, I laugh.
You reach, I duck.
You swing, I run.
You cry, we fuck.
Do you feel better yet?

You think you're so clever,
with your "I want you" eyes,
and your "I own you" lips.
With your "sly cunning" smile,
and your "come fuck me" hips.
but I'm winning..
and you're too self absorbed to realize.

And anyday I'll walk away.
I'll close my eyes,
and end this game..
Because it bores me, and I'm tired.

You'll beg me to stay,
and you'll start to yell,
and I'll start to laugh,
because we both know, that I'm all that you have.
But you don't even have that anymore..

Breathe

I breathe you in,
Light as a feather touching the cheek of a child that's sleeping,
I breathe you in,
Warm like the sunlight brushing the surface on an ocean that's gleaming.
And you come to me,
With a subtle urgency,
You move in me,
With a grace and mercy.
Love is what is,
A force to be bound by.
It does what it wants,
There's no manual, no guidelines.
And you make it so, appealing.
So all consuming.
That I'm drowning, falling slowly,
Sinking…losing.
This time I'm letting go, of all the fears, and all the no's.
The reasons why, the regretful sighs,
The heavy chest, the choked on breaths,
To all of them I say good-bye.
And hello to you,
My salvation, my muse.
And so I breathe you in,
Just like the stars, shine with a stillness that captures a moment
I breathe you in,
And hold you here with me, love kept and unspoken.

The Dance

We dance the same old dance and each time you dip me I fall harder than before.
And you twirl me and you throw me,
I'm disoriented and confused.
I see you look at her and hold me tight,
I feel used.
You let me go, I start to spin,
I close my eyes...afraid that I'll fall again.
So I hold my breath, I won't share that with her too.
Because it's mine, and mine alone.
In the end we stand again, I look sad, you call me 'friend'.
But I still have my breath, as I always will.
And even now, as we stand still,
the music starts and the crowd begins to sway.
You ask me to dance, and I say..
yes.
In the end we dance the same old dance, again.

The sky's the Limit, so whatever shall I do?

I've decided that there are too many things that I need to do before I look in the mirror and realize that I'm too old to do them.

So here it is, I'm rolling out it out and I suggest you all do the same:

dun da da da...... JUNE's BUCKET LIST:

1) Make my own bread, homeade, by me.

2) Lose 8 pounds, and yes I did read item number 1 on this list.

3) Try a taste of my husbands and sons favorite food - canned herring fillets(barf)

4) Get a good foundation going for an actual tan this year. look into getting said tan in July/Aug... possibly. tanning is not an exact science when you are part Albino.

5) Write a song.

6) Take a trip to West Edmonton Mall ( i know it sounds like a set up, but i needed at least one gimmie on this list.)

7) work one full weekend without complaining about how awful it is to work there.

8) Find a goal for autumn.

9) Purchase a plant that I will not kill within 2 weeks of it living with me.

10) Go a full two weeks without stressing or checking finances.

Babysteps people, babysteps

Pi (in the face) = idiot + hope/excitement

have you ever been hopeful? happy in a moment? thinking of something, looking forward to something maybe, or time, with someone? yeah me too. It's a great feeling, just content, easy breathing with an edge of excitement underlying. maybe even just a little of that tummy tickle at the prospect of it?

and then have you had someone come along and crush it? kick you straight shot in the emotional gut. it takes no effort on their part, no thought. but there you are sucking wind, literally almost. feeling that thick disappointment as you swallow whatever's left of your pride.

the best are the residual thoughts,'fuck it. i'm done. that's the last time i get set up like an idiot.' yep. nothing like losing the desire to try. to make an effort. Not really sure even why i give a shit anymore, or for that matter why it even surprises me. i should see it coming every time, i hesitate, so i guess in reality i kinda do, but that whole "objects in the mirror are closer than they appear" thing is more applicable than i give it credit for.

i think that this exact reason is why i'm non-committal.
don't commit + don't connect = don't get sucker punched in the heart + don't feel stupid.

seems like easy enough math. now to apply it tangibly.

Parenting: Public Incident #106

The other day, I, being the loving mother that I am, picked up a gently used playschool kitchen for the kiddies. There I was patting myself on the back for capitalizing on a friends frustration and getting a steal of a deal. $20 big ones, I kid you not. For those of you who have not had the time or inclination to check out the retail cost of one of these suckers, it's around $250. BRUTAL right, I know, I know, and that was exactly why I was high on the buy!!

Now for the wee little glitch. No food, no plates, cutlery etc. Well, I say no problemo! C'mon lets just hop in the car, hit up the Self-help (our local second hand store) and pick up some cheap plastic dishes, as for fake food, we happened to have some, and there is always more at the Dollarstore. (nothing but the best for my babies:)

So my son and I hop in the CRV and peel out of the driveway, hot on a mission to find some more deals. We get there and I gave my normal speech, "Now mind your manners, no yelling, and don't touch the breakables." After that we head in. Now you have to remember that my oldest is 4.5 yrs and VERY dramatic. Like memorizes and acts out the ShamWow and SlapChop commercials. Recites verbatim lines from his favourite Disney movies, as well as the Dempsters whole grains commercial. He is almost always "ON" unless asleep.

In we go, and Action: We are walking between the movie isles and male child#1 says, "hello stranger, hello stranger" to every single person that goes past us. Thus begins "the looks". (also notable mention: he is apparently unable to control the volume of his voice. He projects like a 90yr old with their hearing aid turned off so they yell even louder, like they think you can't hear either.) All of a sudden he decides to kick it into high gear and really get into character, so the next poor old man that walks past gets, "hi stranger" followed by,"oh mommy!! it's a stranger, hold me hold me!!" (insert mock scared child's voice) This guy looks over at me with the "I didn't do anything look" and then gets laced into by his wife,"Harry, what did you do to that little boy?! Stop being so scary! Dammit what'd ya say to him?" she grabs her husband and pulls him into the nearest isle to berate and interrogate him in private.

I say in a quiet voice,"Ahhhh, c'mon let's move, and look for those dishes." later I whisper, "maybe you could just say hi instead of hi stranger." His response,"well i don't know his name mom, and he is a stranger, so I can't talk to him to ask him, cause you told me not to talk to strangers. So what? what am I posta do here huh? you tell me."

Really? catch-22, so I deflected and we continued to make our way to the dish section.

A few steps later we found ourselves in the book section. (the scene here is this: me, my son, behind him an overweight middle aged man with bad skin and worse dandruff thumbing through an Oprah magazine and a older woman dressed very conservatively, with a ton of make-up and brilliantly white hair looking at gardening books) All of a sudden my son's little kid ears pick up on the sound of something ever so slight. His eyes widen and he raises his already loud voice, "Mommy???" he says, his voice laced with judgement and disapproval,"Did you just Fart!!!" I could instantly feel the heat in my cheeks as the man and woman turned to stare at me over their shoulders. "Ughhh, No. I did not." I say in a low voice. "Well who did?" He says. "Cause I heard it! Just now! And it wasn't me!!" I'm stifling a giggle and trying to be parental slash put the Kibosh on this line of questioning. "Um you know what, I don't think that's what you heard, I think that it was probably a chair leg squeaking on the floor or something, c'mon let's go." But he wouldn't be shrugged off that easily. "No way mom. It was a fart for sure!" then lifting up both thumbs and pointing in opposing directions at the individuals who at this point are staring right at us, he says, "If it wasn't us, then it had to be one of these guys!" Wellllll...now I guess everyone was embarrassed, because I've never seen two adults heads whip up, look accusingly at each other and then turn away and stare straight ahead at nothing that quickly before in my life.

At this point, I just turned my back and walked briskly to the household section, yelling over my shoulder, "See you later turtle,you're too slow, I'm leaving you here." and of course he ran after me like a bat out of hell.

why didn't I just do that in the first place? wow. Well at least I know for next time. We got in the car and had a talk about the importance of whispering in stores about all bathroom related matters.

This parenting thing is one crazy ride. The mundane can turn exciting within seconds without any notice. Beware.

i love summer. love it. i'm a total whore for summer!! there, i said it. for years the sun and i have had our differences, but today was a break through for us. I had a fabulous afternoon, at the park, taking in the day and the sun. Granted the company played a part. It makes a total difference on your mindframe if you are in the company of someone who is easy, and light about everything. That positive happy just rubs off, you can't help but catch a little. And these days my friends, a little goes a long way. So i figured i'd take a moment to commemorate the little bit of happy that was sharred with me today, before i partake in a summer beverage to toast my new truce with the sun! Between you and me i think that i got a little sun already, i know, i told you, i'm a summer whore, and apparently the sun just gives it away, so it's not all me;)

Down the rabbit hole ...

Today, actually lately, the last couple of days anyway, I've been a little lost. I know we've all been there, and I'm sure I should find that comforting, but I'm there now, and I don't. Today I thought to myself that somewhere along the way I gave away this piece of me, this integral, this quintessential, piece of me. Of course i did it in the name of love. but more importantly at the time, I did it unconditionally, and oblivious to how much of myself went along with that act. only now, years later do I fully see the culmination of all of my decisions to change.. to concede.. to compromise, a little, everyday. You never know how much love will take from you if you let it.

but you want to right? I wanted to.. I thought that's how this all worked. "sure, I get it, hurt a little now, and in the end there's the big pay off. it's worth it." Just give a little... just give in a little. Be a little less, critical, be a little less needy, be a little less demanding, expect a little less. be a little less.. you. Be a little more, patient, be a little more accommodating, be a little more available, be a little more giving. give give give, more love, more time, more support, more of you. .. Until all that's left is a little less...

I wanted to. I thought that I was doing ok. my best actually. somewhere in there I did it. I gave me away, and realized too late that the woman typing here today, is missing an important piece. The piece of me that doesn't need anyone else to make her feel whole. The piece of me that remembers what it was like to feel strong, self assured, and content in knowing that even if no one else in the world loved me, it would still be ok, because I loved me. Because I know that no one else can make me happy, no one else can fill me, no amount of love will ever be enough, if I don't love me, believe in me, first.

I've been striving to maintain these relationships, trying to be the person that I thought that I was supposed to be, meet the needs of the people that I love. but in the end I let their needs and expectations shape me instead of my own, changing the person I was, the person that they loved in the first place, into the person i am now. Now they are all left looking for that person that I used to be, and so am I...

so I decided today that the first step in getting that part of me back is to let somethings go. things that I've been holding onto for too long.. it's never easy is it.

Possession

You are in my blood.
A vital part of me.
I can feel you move,
Circulate around in me,
Flowing up and down through me.

You are in my head.
Owning what you want of me.
Swaying back and forth,
Moving through the doors in the home that you possess,
Revisiting the memories inside your treasure chest.

As you go from room to room,
Taking in your property,
Thinking of your asking price
For purchasing my sanity,
I hear you whispering all the things
You wanted to, but couldn't bring,
Inside your home for fear of losing everything…

Instead you kept it clean and vacant,
Thinking that you couldn't take it,
If one day you did something,
to in the end destroy and break it.

But I am me, and you are too,
Your memories are living proof,
That in your home, you'll always be,
Owning and possessing me
And nothing you can bring will break us,
Because my love for you sustains us.

Free front row tickets to the Freakshow

Get ready to pat me on the back for another outstanding job well done!! Mere moments ago I was in what I thought, was the privacy of my own living room, enjoying one of life's simple liberties. I should say thoroughly enjoying.. and the liberty that I am referring to is Freedom. I had just cleaned up after supper, the boys went to the park to burn off the crazy in their veins, leaving my daughter and I alone to bond. And so we did what all girls do when the mood strikes, we turned up some really great tunes, (ballads in this case) and we let loose. Now remember my daughter is only one and doesn't talk yet, she just howls along.(in tune surprisingly)

So picture us: Me holding my baby girl, dancing around like an idiot, singing. Like I mean really belting it out, like I'm Cher on a Navy vessel circa Summer 1989. Wooden spoon microphone and all.

Suddenly I get that feeling, you know the one where you think some one's watching you? And sure enough, I look up to see the neighbor kid on his BMX staring at me, jaw gaping, a confused expression on his face and those big eyes. The ones you give when you see a TOTAL FREAKSHOW. Yep this poor kid had front row tickets! oh the embarrassment. I felt the heat in my cheeks instantly. Then I jumped at the blinds like a spidermonkey shot out of a cannon!! "QUICK" I said to myself, "SHUT THE BLINDS!!". I got to them in time to see his eyes widen with fear. He probably thought I was going to attack him, or worse tie him up and make him a captive audience.

As if it wasn't too late already. I mean it's not like he knows where I live or something? I'm an idiot.

After that I just needed to burn off a little crazy myself, so I played something a little more angst appropriate and rocked out with my Pat Benatar impersonation.

Doctor My Eyes...tell me what is wrong???

Jackson Browne was right on the money with that question. Doctor My Eyes, have I kept them open for too long?? I see things all the time, over analyze, absorb, everything. Is seeing things the price for learning how not to cry? It seems like the "better" I appear at dealing, the more often I find myself in situations requiring me to deal. The stronger I seem, I get, the more detached in a way that I can make myself in that moment. So that I can cope, make it through, with minimal damage, to the other side of sadness. The more life seems to plunge me smack dab in the middle of those moments. And so I train myself to "check" my emotions at the door, to be able to keep going with life in the face of tragedy, despair, disillusionment, confusion, pain. Pain is kicker, the transformer. Your pain, the pain of loved ones, it changes you, fundmentally. It's strength lies in it's link to fear. Fear of loss, of losing what and who you love. So we do what comes naturally to us, we protect ourselves from pain by avoiding love, of really attaching ourselves, of offering all of ourselves to another person. We hold back a part of our hearts out of instinct, in the name of self-preservation. Just enough so that we know we can make it through if , just in case things go wrong...

I was at a funeral this last weekend for my cousin. It was surreal to say the least. He was 26 the day he died. The sky was grey and something that day cut me to the soul, every single second was so incredibly raw, paralyzing. I watched his mother bend over his casket and straighten his tie, smooth it. And break down, choking on her sobs while she held him for the last time, kissed his cheek with the tenderness only a mother could have for her child.

I was frozen. I felt overwhelmed and full of emotion, it was all there held tightly back, underneath the surface, tears sitting on the edge of my eyes waiting for permission to fall. Permission that they were not granted. And so there they stayed. And the lump that had risen in my throat was swallowed and pushed back down to where it had come from.

I thought of my children, and parts of my heart broke all over again for her, for all the days of sorrow yet to come for her. For all of the hours and minutes of silence that will come to her, to remind her of all she's lost. The light in her eyes was gone. To be honest I'm not sure that I can say that you'll ever see it there again. Maybe a pale reflection.

When I got home, I tried to hold onto that tenuous thread of honest emotion and memories. I tried to keep that moment in my heart where in a way, he was still here, alive, real, tangible, even though my mind had already started sorting and closing the boxes that contained him. I was conflicted within myself, my heart longed to cry and release this, but my mind was in survival mode.

Just then my baby girl walked in on me sitting in the silence of my bedroom, and she looked at me with her big blue, and surprisingly perceptive eyes. She reached for me and I swooped her up in my arms, she looked at me for a moment, and honestly I swear she understood me. She wrapped her little arms around me and we laid together until she fell asleep petting my hair.

There in the darkeness, in the arms of my 1yr old, I couldn't hide any longer and grief finally found me. And I wept, openly, and silently. Sobs racked my body for what felt like an eternity. Until I felt empty, purged of feeling. Tired, but ready. Ready to keep going.

Every day since I've thought about that day, him, her, all of it. Life goes on, and yet it creeps into your head in those moments that you least suspect, but in a weird way you wait for. Until one day.... you don't.

Every time something like this happens to you, you treat it like a disease that you don't want to catch. You don't want to feel this way again, so you allow yourself to build up an immunity, you disconnect a little, so that the next time you're ready. You arm yourself with the false sense of security, telling yourself that you'll be able to handle it. Be careful what you wish for. There's a difference between strength, and living a life afraid to feel, afraid to see and experience the things that really matter. Don't close off your heart in an attempt to survive hurt and circumvent pain, you'll miss the true connections life has to offer. The beautiful depths the heart will delve to in the name of love, and that.. that would be heartbreaking.

I don't want to survive life, I want to live it.
I have to remind myself all the time, a life of love and tears, or solitude and silence?

I choose love. Always.

The 7th Shade of Grey

Run from all the memories that burn quietly in the corner of my mind.
This still, empty candle that melts it's thoughts and feelings away.
Turn from all confusion that dwells in my head from season to season.
This hurt growing deeper and colder with time.
Hide from all the rage that cries out in my heart.
This darkness in which anger and sorrow slumber, is bent, then broken, and collapses within itself.

Hope and Faith are what we cling to in times of torment.
We seek them out of desperation, because we are forced to.
This comes from one basic need...
The need to survive.
Hope and Faith are what keep us strong when there's nothing else left to hold onto.

All you can do is believe.

One Minute

My mind turned to dust.
My memory soon forgotten
My name a distant cry.
My soul died before the body.
Feel it closing in.
Death is silently creeping.
Whispers of the end.
Shadows of darkness,
run through my head.
Feel my dreams slip away....

The Way We Are

I sit here, staring at your smile.
Watching, trying to catch a glimpse of what's behind it.
You know me, as well as I know myself.
I wonder sometimes what it was that made me come to you.
What crazy thing it is that makes me follow.
My eyes betray me,
and once again, they talk to you in whispers.
It's funny how you give me all I need,
with just that smile.

Just a quick question

Why is it that my 1yr old daughter can parade around topless, with her belly hanging out, half a nutri-grain bar stuck between her fingers and the other half stuck to her face, dried milk in her hair, bright pink tights, one boot and still be adorable? Seriously, beyond adorable. And I wake up after a bottle of wine (shared)looking like a 60yr old bloated, balding male with a severe comb over? It's cruel and unfair is what it is. If I walked around like she does, people would think I just walked out of a frat party and was completely blitzed. Man, babies, well kids in general really, have it made. Enjoy it while it lasts. Now your cute Baby-Tubby, then you'll be the Crazy-Tubby topless broad with the drinking problem. The only difference will be about 30yrs, and the contents of the bottle.

mixed clarity

Something lost and nothing gained.
Holding on seemed harder than letting go,
or did it?
I can't remember now.
I can't feel things.
or maybe I just don't want to.
It's funny how happy memories only seem to create pain.
It hurts more to remember than to forget.
The problem is, forgetting is impossible...

Once upon a Monday morning .....

There was a sleep deprived masochistic mother who decided to take her children for a leisurely morning walk, in her recently purchased "double-wide" stroller/mini-bus. So there I am, the kids all packed in, cruising along, or so I thought, when a woman and her stroller fly by me. hmm... I didn't think much of it and continued on my way.

Moments later 2 more moms, strollers in tow, pass by me in tandem, at what I would say was a rapid pace. This time however I got the "look" or the "stink-eye" as I refer to it, from one of them. Like i should have moved out of the way? Welllll, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that this sidewalk was the "fast" lane. Here allow me to move my 2 ton stroller complete with my 2 kids who weigh the equivalent of a pack mule, over to the 4ft x 4ft section of grass that requires an all terrain vehicle to navigate through, all so you don't miss a stride. Yeah, like that's going to fucking happen.

I was enjoying my pace, the day, being alive. I make no apologies that I don't feel the need to "Power Walk" and blackberry, every fucking second of the day. Like take a pill, settle the fuck down and breathe. If you are in that much of a hurry, then here's a thought, T-A-K-E..Y-O-U-R..C-A-R!! It's called a sidewalk for a reason, not a siderun or a siderude. You wanna street race your strollers? Go ahead, take it to the blacktop and giver but don't shoot me the side glare or the over the shoulder quick shot steely stare. For two reasons:
1) I'm not intimidated.
2) Your writing checks your ass can't cash and Mama likes to rumble;)

So just as I'm calming myself and advising myself that I'm an adult and just to ignore it, the other mom looks back at me, tilts her head to the side and hits me with the full on, "awwww, that's too bad" pity look and head shake.

Seriously?!

At this point my self control went out the window and I flipped her the bird, loud and proud. What can I say it was a weak moment. She's lucky I didn't go all Steven Seagal on her ass!! I'm telling you, I was this close to pulling out the beat stick and dropping her where she stood. Whoopaw!! Whoopaw! I DO NOT need to be patronized by stroller moms in matching track suits and headsets. Like what, you each have ONE baby in those strollers? What's that weigh? Maybe 12lbs a piece? Give me a break. I eat 12lbs babies for breakfast. What else ya got? huh! Bring it on.

I would have taken them both out, but I'm a lady, and there where children present. It was their lucky day.
After that I picked up my coffee and all was right with the world once more.

The End.

Danger's my middle name (wink)

I tripped again today.. on NOTHING. No, I mean literally there was nothing there. Who may i ask, trips on air? ME. That's who. Like there aren't enough real objects in life that I can trip on, now my body in an apparent attempt to either really challenge itself or assassinate me, has decided to randomly hurdle pockets of air.

So there i am, walking out of work, it's nice out. Mild. Talking to a co-worker and enjoying what I think is a safe stroll out to my vehicle, when out of no where,'WHOOPS!!' the half jerk, lurch forward, and stumble haphazardly. At the last second I manage to pull out of the nose dive towards the pavement only to appear oh so smooth, like pre-teen with a motor function disorder. Now of course I'm stuck with the expression of serious surprise/fear across my face, that then turns into an awkward smile,giggle. It totally sucks the cool right off you. Nothing like ending the night like that.

I mean it's not like anyone would refer to me as graceful, but how clumsy does one person have to be? Co-ordination in sports was never an issue, I excelled. But in regular life, eating, walking, carrying things, has always been arduous and tricky. Talking this out right now, I realize that maybe competition is the motivating factor that drives my body to unite with my brain for the greater good...WINNING/BRAGGING RIGHTS. Being the BEST. Based on this recent revelation it seems logical that if I place a competitive stipulation on my regular mundane life tasks it should in theory, trick my body into preforming at it's optimal level, thereby effectively transforming myself into dare I say it... a graceful lady?

Yes. YES indeed.. mwah ha haa ha!!! Excellent! (insert evil laugh and strumming of fingers)

Inspired - if your lucky

What inspires you?
What moves, and compels you? Causes that pause, followed by the notable and physical shift in your heart? What makes your breath catch in your chest just short of your throat. The feeling like you just sunk into yourself.
Or maybe the question is .. . who?

Have you ever experienced a true emotional connection that is SO powerful in and of itself, with no prompting or coaxing that it's moved you to tears instantly? And at the same time it ignites a passion and desire in you for a deeper understanding of everything you thought you knew, about yourself, about love.

It's rare, I'll admit. Almost a myth, but I can attest to it's existence.
I've been fortunate enough to have another affect me in such a way. I wonder what it would be like to be that for someone else. To offer a part of yourself, and know that some one's response to you could actually physically change their breathing pattern. That is a profound idea to say the least.

The concept of really loving someone more than yourself, not just in words, but in reality. Overwhelming, yes. Unfathomable, almost. The gravity of that kind of love is looming and expansive, like crossing oceans of time. It touches every corner of your life, your being, whether you want it to or not. It doesn't ask for permissions from you, it just is. It won't be ignored or controlled. It's silent power brews forcefully under the surface, like a tidal wave beneath the sea, crashing against the shore to shape it to it's needs.

In the end you become whatever it is that you need to be, to allow it to exist. To be true to it, to you, is a balance that is almost impossible to find. But what you will find along the way is pain, loneliness, loss, anguish sometimes, and of course confusion. They are all sides of the same coin and one cannot exist without the other. Like day and night, you need one to appreciate the other, to realize it's brillance. To find and understand the many, and vastly different sides within yourself.

Oh to be inspired like that, to feel the life in it. It really is amazing. A gift.
To experience real love. To immerse yourself in someone else and awake a heart long afraid to feel. To find and lose your hearts desire. If that is tragic than give me tragedy because I wouldn't miss that for the world.

what we have here is a failure to communicate

Honesty. A game neither of us plays all that well.
Why can't we talk?
Maybe because we can't find the words.. ..
Seems like the only thing that I can find these days... is you.
Even when I'm trying to hide, you see me.
I used to think that it was just myself that I couldn't run from.
Turns out that you're not as easy to lose as I thought you'd be.
Funny, that when I try to run from you,
I'm the one who ends up getting lost.
All my attempts to escape are futile,
and the illusion of freedom fades.
The cunnundrum is that you are the only real freedom that I have ever known, yet still you are my prison.
I am yours, as I've always been, your name burnt in my heart.
Kept by you, I move when you move me,
and pray for the day that you say it's over and end this game.
We both know that you've already beaten me.

WOW - Shock & Awe take on a whole new meaning when you have kids

What I was witness to today folks was spectacular to say the least. Let me start off by asking how many of you have seen the movie Stand by Me?? You know the movie starring Wil Wheaton (nerd), Kiefer Sutherland (bully), River Phoenix (troubled teen/Bff/younger brother), Corey Feldman (son of a "Looney" & all around off kind of guy). It's a great flick, it gave us the "goocher", and "sincerely guys". But most noteably for me was the story told round the campfire about a kid named Lard Ass and his creation of the "Total Barfarama".

yep, you guessed it today, unbeknown to me, my children haphazardly created their own two-man version of this, which was epic in scale.

join me on a magical journey back in time....
(my son shall take the role of male-child#1 and my daughter the role of girlbeast) scene: my entrance way.
I decided that it was a gorgeous day outside and to make the most of it. I put on my best positive attitude and rounded up the gang to make the formal announcement, that indeed, today we would venture out and see what fun awaited us.

My son, the 4yr old shut-in, logged his usual complaints of being too tired, and that we should just stay inside. My daughter drooled sporting her famous single tooth grin and tried to put her shoes on her head. I took this to mean she was in for the walk. I promptly told my son that he had no choice in the matter and to locomote.

At this point he did say his tummy hurt, but in my defense, he says that like every time I ask him to do something he isn't particularly fond of.. so.. yeah.. i should've heeded his warning, but I didn't.

So at this point I'm between them, he's sitting on the bench, I'm helping him get his shoes on my daughter is just behind me on the floor. Then all of a sudden I hear a very alarming noise gurgle up and out of my son's mouth followed by the sickest stream of projectile vomit that I've ever witnessed come out of a person that size, or any size for that matter.

Luckily my cat-like speed and reflexes allowed it to only nick my shoe. I quickly stepped clear and took off my top leaving me in my sports bra and ready for action. As I was preparing myself to get him undressed, the sour stench of it hit my daughter and she too began to vomit. She puked on my son's feet and this initiated what i refer to as the second insurgence.

So now there I am, standing topless, starring in disbelief and disgust as my children barf on each other...repeatedly. Of course something in me still asks the stupidest question, "honey are you ok?" to which my 4yr old responds in between mouthfuls,"uh, hellooo, McFly? i'm puking over here."

I know right? You're thinking what kind of kid genius, slash disrespectful kid am I raising? Actually this was a weak moment for him manners wise, he is normally thee most proper kid I've ever met. (Not sure where he picked that up exactly). But I was SOOOO proud/grossed out. I couldn't help but laugh. What other 4yr old do you know that references Back to the Future quotes while blowing chunks. Now that's some chutzpah there.

Despite my sensitive gag reflex I was able to get them both undressed. I placed girlbeast in her crib (which she despises) and listened to her serenade us with her shrill screaming. I got my son in the tub and turned to get him a towel, when I turned back something in the water caught my eye.....

me: "male-child#1, did you just puke again?"

male-child#1: "no."

me: "then what is all that stuff floating around in there?"

male-child#1: "well, i don't know.. i farted though."

me: "HOLY shitballs!!! quick, stand up, you are sitting in poop!"

he stands up and gets in the corner. yelling "get it OUT, GET IT OUT!!! gross!"

So I let the water out and wash the tub/fill it again, all the while girlbeast is getting louder and louder. All I keep thinking in my head is that there is NO WAY this happens when dads home. Poor him, always the bridesmaid, never the bride. What is with my luck? I mean, I can't even win a free coffee on the Timmies roll up the rim to win, but I hit the JACKPOT when it comes to body fluids?!!? unbelievable.

The Work Effect

All right, i'll admit it. Since going back to my job, aka, The Clink, The Slammer, The Big House, The Hoosegow. I've been shall we say somewhat frivolous with "our" finances. (our is bunny eared due to the fact that we know that I'm the boss, and he's just working for the weekend. I say who, I say when, I say how much etc.)

For those of you that don't know this about me, I'm not only a procrastinator I'm also a deflector, emotionally speaking. I use food and shopping to cope. And NO ,realizing this about myself is not going to change my behaviour because it makes me happy people. Ya catching on. It's worked for the last 32 years, and as the saying goes, "if it ain't broke..." whatever it's a crap saying but you get my point.

Recently my list of purchases includes the following:
-a laptop (sidenote: do you know how long I referred to it as a Labtop and no one corrected me? thanks, a shout out to all my friends)
-the Twilight 4 book series (don't judge me, plus it was 40% off)
-a new coffee maker/grinder (that's a necessity)
-2 wines off of My Favorites wine list (and a few that weren't on it)
-a book called Love & War (it's a guide to marriage, I'm studious let's leave it at that)
-a bag of cadbury cream eggs (mini's)
-a six pack of reg. cadbury cream eggs.
-a new jacket

Soooo.... you know when I write it out like that it's actually not that bad.

but I do need to rein myself in before I book a trip to Florida or something. Disney really IS my happy place.

"oh Mickey you're so fine..
you're so fine you blow my mind.
hey Mickey (clap clap, clap clap)
hey Mickey (clap clap, clap clap)"
Seriously, tell me you don't love that song??
So cussing addictive!!
Yep, hammer on the nail, cuss this addictive personality of mine.
It's such bullcuss!!

(I've also been trying to curb the cussing. Work has really been counter productive in that respect)

Well I'm feeling the urge....
The urge to SPLURGE!!!!
ITUNES here i come!

"all night long, alnight, alnight, alnight
all night long, alnight, alnight, alnight"

oh Lionel Richie you have such a way with words. magical. nuff said.

Look who's talking, Natalie Portman or Macaulay Culkin

my daughter is beyond adorable. I know we all say that about our kids, honestly though, it's not just me, she's Welch's Grape Juice adorable.
(today I'm going to at least make an attempt at not travelling down Tangent Rd.)
what i really want to know is what exactly IS the fascination with poking at my eyes?? is this a typical infant thing? Has anyone talked to them about this matter, spoken to their HR director, gotten the low down on what their policy is for these situations??

Frankly I'd love to know. Babies/infants are frigging cute, but FYI that doesn't excuse absolutely EVERYTHING. or does it? if so what's the age where you need more than the cuteness to get away with stuff??

Surviving the teen years can be divided into two categories:
A) Macaulay Culkin
and
B) Natalie Portman

TYPE A) Macaulay Culkin Syndrome:
I mean obviously there is that awkward weird pre-teen to middle teen stage where your once adorable child morphs into this scrawny (or slightly chunky), acne riddled alien replica. It's like that episode of V where the pre-pubescent martian mixer chick changes fully into her alien form. (barf, it was a particularly graphic scene) Anyways, after that most of them make the transition to adult hood with little to no lasting disfigurement.

TYPE B) Natalie Portman Syndrome:
On rare occasions you get the lucky few individuals that make the move straight from cute/pretty to beautiful/Über Hot. It hardly seems fair does it? Do these people get to continue "poking peoples eyes" for the rest of their lives, unchallenged? Never having to answer for their actions simply because of their appearance? If so your only hope to avoid being a victim is to pair up with one, gain their trust and live the life of a sidekick.

Careful though, sometimes these pretty people like to turn their attention, slash unrelenting teasing and pinching on those that they are closest to. That being said, I'd rather get the "i love you, your so cute and fun" poke than the actual "I'll run your ass over like a train cause you pissed me off and I CAN because I'm super good looking" poke. yep, those ones are a bitch.

back to infants though, they really do get away with murder sometimes. And the "I'm super cute and don't speak English face", always works on me. I'm such a sucker. Someday's if she's feeling extra generous she'll follow up the eye poke with a face slap and hysterical laughter. it really is funny to watch.

hello apathy

I can't move, breathe, not at all.
the thought of you cripples me,
I feel like I'm in a constant free fall
just praying for the ground to hit.
a quick and merciful end to this.
but you brought me here.
to destroy us with half truths and lies.
to placate and break the one that you "love".
I should have know better this time.
I should have woken up, from this dream.
The one you constructed so carefully.
The one that you set up so masterfully.
All with that smile that manipulates me.
I finally see through all your words, and the games that you played.
your secret rules, planned to perfection, every move that you made.
when I sleep now at night I check with my heart,
to make sure that you're gone.
It's not yours anymore and you've stayed here too long......
so good-bye to us,
and hello to me.
good-bye love,
hello apathy.

le sigh...

i miss you, well that's my initial response, but in reality i think that what i really miss is me.
the me that you allow me to be. the freedom that accompanies the time that i spend with you.
the person that i become, the one that i love, the one that you nurture and encourage me to be, just by being you.
the side of me that sacrifices, that sympathizes, that reaches out, knowing that i could never be this on my own.
that no one can walk this road alone.
i miss the unspoken acceptance in your eyes, the tenderness in your voice, and the soft comfort in your touch.
you have the humble and yet sublime presence of an Angel. frighteningly beautiful, carrying with you a mysticism and magic that transcends understanding, but resonates deep within the soul. possessing the unconcious ability to affect and influence my hearts desires and dreams.
i ache and thirst to know you more deeply, to touch your purity and for a moment feel pure by extension. for in knowing you i hope to grasp a vague recognition of myself.
to see me the way you see me, to comprehend why you love me...
maybe if i could see that, then i could love me too.
the difference between the light and the darkness is you.
i miss you.

Broken Girl

When I look in your eyes,
I see the shadow of a monster that hides right behind,
waiting until it's dark to come and chase me.
And when mommies gone,
you say, "shhhhh..",
and you kiss me, and say i belong,
with you.
but this secret is killing me.
Every mirror I look in,
I see pieces of me that want to break free.
but I just pretend that I'm like everyone else I see.
And I sit here and cry.
There are pieces of me that are broken inside,
but there is no safe place that I can hide, from him.
And this sick dirty man,
spreads his sickness on me, and takes all that I am.
He beats and breaks me,
Until I bleed again.

Thank you Daddy.
Thank you for all of the nights,
when I lay wide awake fighting all of the shame that's within,
so that it won't strangle me.
Thank you for all of the fear,
and the tears and the pain, in your sick twisted game.
I guess this is what they call a family.
Thank you for all of the screams,
that I yelled in my head, every night after bed,
as you lay upon me.

And so I lay here for you,
and with every touch I smell mommies perfume.
I wish she would only just believe,
and save me...
And I think if I was dead,
that there would be nothing that you could do to hurt me then,
and maybe I could feel safe once again,
from the monster that hides right in back of the man,
that made me.

** this poem is dedicated to the broken girls out there. my prayer is that you know that someone cares, that you find the courage to tell someone, to fight, and most importantly that you know.. it's not your fault. You are a victim. **

Over Talking, my formal apology

ok, so it has come to my attention, via a close personal friend of mine, that i am indeed an over talker. which means that at times while in conversation with another my enthusiasm gets the better of me and i cut them off, blurtting out my then idle thoughts. for this i sincerely apologize. it's rude and offensive. i in no way think that you are a boring dullard that needs shutting up. On the contrary, i think you are exciting and something you have said has struck a chord or lit a creative spark in me that in turn transforms into an explosion of words, thoughts, or feelings that cannot be contained. On another note i do think that medically i'm not responsible for this "condition" of mine, due to the fact that i actually believe that the electronic impulses that are sent from my brain to my mouth are misfiring. (i plan on confirming this with my attending physician) In summary, we all are victims here. I for one blame no one. Hopefully you too can come to the same conclusion. Again, i'm deeply sorry for overtaking with my over talking. forgive me.

Quiet & Alone

I stand here, quiet and alone.
More alive than I've felt in years.
I saw you tonight.
My heart remembering things that my mind had tried so hard to forget.
Time, unmoving in it's cruelty, stopped.
As did my breathing, thinking, being.
For a brief yet endless second,
I recalled like lightening,
every single smile and tear that I ever knew because of you.
My soul laughed out loud,
without consent from my pride,
and they quarrelled within me.
Both too stubborn in their desire to compromise.
I turned to you and tried to speak...
but with a voice that was scared of being heard,
I choked on the feelings that I had forgotten how to feel.
So I walked away.
I watched me..walk away.
And I cried,
because tomorrow's another day,
that I'll stand here...
quiet and alone.

Strings included

Take me out of your pocket,
when you want to play.
You talk,
i listen,
and silent i stay.
Until you tell me to talk.
You tell me to walk.
You tell me to stand.
and i meet your demands.
I protect you.
I defend you.
I love and compliment you.
but you hurt me.
and you use me.
If your not careful,
you might lose me.
but for now, i'll close my eyes and just pretend.
that this person you're becoming is still my best friend.

a quick one

i love friday after work beers.
it's soooo Cheers.
"hey ya Normmm!" ... normal. real.
laughter and language, mixed in a liquid conversation.
that just keeps flowing.
who wouldn't love that?
it's just easy.
the way things should be.

A broken mirror, a happy accident

Today i had a happy accident of sorts. i saw myself in the mirror today, actually saw me. At first i thought that the mirror was broken but then i realized it was me that was. Usually i'm so busy with life that i walk right past me, but today was one of those rare occasions when i stopped to stare. i paused for what felt like an eternity. without sounding too cliche it was like seeing myself for the first time in years. So I thought to myself, "wow. if i don't even take the time to see me, to acknowledge me, how can i ever expect anyone else to?"

i think that i took that to heart. i had that epiphany moment. that moment of absolute clarity, the topographical life perspective. the one where you leave the conversation that you just had with yourself feeling strong, powerful, new, energized, hopeful, positive and dare i say it.. . happy? So there i was, on course, focused, ready to take on the day. . the world.

(and cue mayday's and sounds of screaming passengers)

really i should know better, it's not the first time that i've had these moments, these talks, this renewed perspective. and every time, it just slips away. why the fuck is that?? i mean it's not like i don't make the effort to retain it, it's not like i don't hold onto it for dear life, so how the hell does it continue to elude me?

the truth is that i feel it leave, it's that gradual piece by piece, but quick. like i'm watching it in slow motion, but really it's happening within the time span of a few hours, or days if i'm really lucky. it's like i'm this figurative pile of leaves, and each leaf is something, like one is happiness, one is patience, one is compassion, one is, well you get the picture. So there i am and the "wind" (my day/the people in it/circumstance/the universe in it's divine pleasure to toy with me) picks up, and with each little gust and each step i take another leaf blows away. They all start to fall away and before i know it, i'm madly scrambling to get them back, and the harder i try, the further they fly, and the more frustrated i get.

and BANG! just like that it's gone. so when i do see myself like i did today in the mirror, it's a pleasant surprise, unexpected and exciting. A happy accident that i'm grateful for because it allows me yet another opportunity to succeed, or to fail, but regardless i learn something either way.

The Perfect Wine

To My Love,
I thought of you today.
the words that you say,
the way that I sway..
& move with your every breath.
Your gentle caress.
the way you undress me, with each passing glance.
The soft brush of our hands...
I long for the time when your lips will touch mine.
the sweet taste of your kiss,
luscious, divine.
You my amour,
like a full bodied wine,
sipped slowly to savor,
every texture & flavor,ripe.
deliberate & planned by it's maker,
to be completely explored & enjoyed.
with subtlety and power,
you permeate my being,
& in one small movement, completely devour,
my logic & reason..
leaving me drunk with the scent of you.

To Whom it may concern:

Dear Shoppers Drug Mart, why oh why must you fail me each and every time that I'm in a rush? what the hell is that all about anyways? i mean I've known the universe was against me from the start. I'm not deluded into believing that lady luck is on my side, but today was yet another low in my personal customer service experience. and to really stick it to me this time you blew it twice in one week. now that's special.

I do give you props though for your strategy. I mean i walk in and you have 10 staff members loitering behind the counter creating the illusion that indeed my time here will be brief because one of them will greet me as i approach the till, promptly serve me and get me on my way. . .. PSYCH!!!!

Instead i feel like an exhibit at the ZOO or some type of medical experiment gone wrong, as i stand there holding awkwardly too many items (because i thought I'd be tended to quickly eliminating my need for a basket). All the while the genetic reject lottery winners you've hired stare blankly at me, "Apparently" oblivious to my irritability, discomfort and growing case of carpel tunnel.

The least you could do is hire attractive employees, like the Thunder from Down Under Guys for example. At least if i have to wait there for hours on end they'd be easy on the eyes and somewhat entertaining. And let's be serious, nobody minds when strippers take their time. But the fact is that your current employees are a far cry from exotic dancers and therefore have nothing to make up for their inability to perform their job in a way that could be mistaken for speed or efficiency.

Maybe in an effort to save your reputation you should consider handing out sedatives in combination with muscle relaxants when customers enter your store. This would take the proverbial edge off, giving them a small feeling of euphoria and lowering their stress, effectively making them more docile, co-operative and less impatient. Just a suggestion.

sincerely,
Had it with you.

I think i've seen this movie before...

honestly, i wonder sometimes if toddlers and infants aren't really superior beings from a different time space continuum, and the womb was just the transport. It makes sense if you've spent anytime with them. they just start out tiny and are learning a new language and social behaviours so they can assimilate successfully. My "kids" are brilliant, far more intelligent than i was at that age, i'm pretty sure they understand everything that i'm saying and just pick and choose what they want to listen to. they watch my reactions like i'm an experiment. Usually my eventual defeat is met with thunderous bouts of laughter from both of them. yes. yes indeed, i am confident that my theory is correct. now to prove it. i will start maticulously documenting their every move in an effort to uncover their sinister plot. i'll get the names and locations of their co-conspiritors and stop this plan to drive all competent adults crazy. After all once they have us proclaimed clinically insane, and commited to an asylum, it'll free up the world for their total domination. genius, except for one small flaw, they didn't see me coming.