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.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
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.
(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.
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.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, March 15, 2010
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. **
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. **
Friday, March 12, 2010
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.
Monday, March 8, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Friday, March 5, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
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 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.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
more common than sense
"maybe I need just a little more than this", she said to herself, not realizing she was listening. "maybe the love that you give me runs cold, maybe this time with you has made my heart old years before it's day? And still.........I choose to stay......lost between you and me". "Confusion" she said, " is that you? You had left for a while and I wasn't sure what to do.........on my own. Now that your back I feel like me, like uncertain me, wholly incomplete." and the light in her eye retreats as she finds comfort in the familiar. It was exciting though? wasn't it? thinking that she might find her way on her own? thinking she might.........feel.....for herself, and maybe let her heart stop for a moment to catch it's breath. After all a geriatric heart with it's day pass to dementia deserves to stop and smell the roses once in a while, to just for a moment, experience a smile. But honestly compassion and understanding were never suits that she wore around home. "I wear them for company, for family and friends" she said wide eyed and stoic, for the simple fact that sympathizing with her own hearts desires never had the longevity one requires. Her moments of clarity where exactly that....moments. So it's seems that her senile old heart will forget what it needs. It will forget what is right, why it loves, why it beats...... considering "Confusion" is the nurse she employs, the prognosis looks grim. I mean seriously, "Confusion" never really remembers what's going on, not the facts anyway, just it's version of them. It's much too busy trying to hide from what's wrong.
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