The Thought Doesn't Always Count!

On my 17th birthday my 3 best friends surprised me by kidnapping me from my home and taking me to Sand Banks National Park to go camping. It was probably the best birthday I ever had. When my best friend, Meghan turned 17, I felt compelled to do something equally special. I wanted to give her something meaningful. Something I’d poured my heart and soul into and that showed her just how much I cared.

Despite not knowing how to sew, I decided that the most original thing I could do was create a handmade doll as part of her Birthday. I took two things that I knew about her- that she collected porcelain dolls and that she absolutely loved sun flowers- and I mashed them together.

I spent four months slaving over this two foot long sunflower doll that I created from old t-shirts, scraps of fabric and artificial leaves. I worked night and day. I dedicated after school hours to cutting and sewing and stuffing. I must have pricked my fingers 1000 times and I picked up some stitching techniques and knots along the way. Surely this was the greatest thing I had ever created! I swear, blood-sweat-and tears went into this doll and like most artists, I could see NO flaws at ALL with my creation.

I could barely wait to give it to her. On the day of her birthday, I orchestrated an elaborate reveal (where the path to the doll was littered with real sunflowers).

Her reception of the doll was not as warm as I had been expecting, but I chalked it up to her being overwhelmed by the greatness of the doll. She placed the sunflower person on top of her dresser and we went about celebrating the rest of her birthday.

Over the next few weeks I noticed that the doll had mysteriously disappeared. When I posed the question, Meghan told me it was in her closet because she needed the space on her dresser. It wasn't until several years later that I discovered the true reason:

It turns out, Meghan stashed poor Sunflower-Doll in a box in her closet because (I dragged this out of her) its' eyes followed her around the room at night and it was giving her nightmares.

Ten years later and Sunflower-Doll's fate was sealed in a basement flood in the late 90's. Where he is now? Nobody knows. But keep an eye out for glassy doll eyes following you in the dark of night!...

Muah ha ha ha ha....

MY SUBWAY & PREGNANCY NIGHTMARE!

I have a confession. I am a coward and did something spineless during one of my last visits to my home town of Bridgenorth. While on the way to my parent’s house, they had asked me to pick up some subs for the family to eat at the cottage. They gave me a detailed list over my cell phone of toppings and breads and sizes, which I repeated out loud for Stuart to hear while we were driving (two heads are always better than one, when taking orders).

When we arrived at the local sub shop of Bridgenorth, we both got out of the car and headed in, Stuart in the lead. I had taken two steps into the store when I noticed ‘OMG my ex boyfriend is standing at the counter ordering a sub!’. I immediately, without thinking, ran for the hills.

I dodged back to the car, keeping my head low- but when I tried the handle IT WAS LOCKED! (and Stuart had the keys). I looked for shelter elsewhere. I considered running into the local convenience store, but didn’t want to risk getting trapped in there if my ex decided to get dessert. I ran (and I mean it- I RAN) to the end of the strip mall and hid around the corner with my back pressed against the wall.

I knew it was an awful thing I had done. I had stuck Stuart with ordering everyone’s subs with only a secondhand knowledge of what they wanted, never mind sticking him with the bill for everything. But I simply couldn’t stand the thought of being spotted in dirty cottage clothes after a long car trip from Toronto, especially considering how drastically different I look from when he dated me (and not in a good way). So I hid.

I periodically peaked around the corner to see what was happening. When I saw Stuart come out with his bags of subs, looking around for me; I inconspicuously waved my hand. He spotted me and mouthed “what are you doing?” I managed to motion for him to drive the car over to me so I could jump in quickly (with some bizzaro charades display).

Needless to say, he was NOT happy and my excuse seemed terribly juvenile when I said it out loud. Everyone got a sub though- even if there were some discrepancies in orders- and I managed to remain elusive and unseen. Totally worth it!

My nightmare does not end there! It is every womans' worst nightmare to have a stranger insinuate that they are fat. The other day I was riding the elevator with a 'newly hired' coworker; I was carrying a big stack of documents and just minding my own business when this happened...

And of course, being the genius that I am- I immediated tried to diffuse to situation and minimize the awkwardness the best way I knew how...

I puffed out my stomach, leaned back and announced the possibility that 'yes, I might very-well be pregnant' when that is absolutely not the case (but I didn't want her to think she had just called me fat; better she think I'm stupid *rolls eyes*). In the end, she was confused; I was ashamed and neither of us wanted to speak to the other any more.

And my nightmare wouldn't be complete if the very next day I hadn't been trapped in the elevator with her again (just my luck). I decided I would be funny and announce "I'm six months today- hopefully 4 months tomorrow, ha ha". But she just averted her eyes and gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Just kill me. Until next time, loyal blog readers.

Gypsy-Brides and BOOBS!

I know a girl who had a breast reduction. It cost her about $7,000. That is more than the BEST set of boobs you could buy! I know another girl who spent about $6,000 on a pair of moderately sized and tasteful breast implants. It got me thinking and experimenting. So now whenever I see anything shaped remotely like breasts, I need to put them in my shirt.

I see this:

And I don’t think “oooh, a tasty treat”…

I think:

I have a new obsession. Gypsy Brides. Inspired by the new TLC program ‘My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding’. It’s like a terrible accident; it’s gruesome and horrible, but you can’t look away from this train wreck-of-a-culture. In short, Gypsies are travelers that rarely stay in one place for very long. Their social norms are very regimented and strict and straight out of the 18th century.

Young girls are taken out of school at 11-12 to clean their family caravans (motor homes), they are uneducated and illiterate and are often responsible for rearing their mothers’ younger children. It is a young girls’ only aspiration to get married and raise a family. They do so around the age of 16, and if they are not married by the time they are 21 or 22, they are like our current-age spinster, bringing shame to their families.

It is completely unacceptable for girls and boys to mingle, so the girls have to dress as provocatively as possible to attract a mate. He shows his interest in her by ‘grabbing’ her (which is violently dragging her into some dark corner and punching, pinching or pulling her hair until she agrees to kiss him). Despite their looks, girls must remain completely chaste until marriage, less they be disgraced by their community. They can’t go out without their parents, they can’t drink, or party or talk to boys; but MAN can they dance! Girls have been known to say that they don’t expect to be doctors or lawyers because they are meant to be housewives and their big achievement in life will be their big elaborate weddings.

Girls compete by having the biggest, most flamboyant (and often tacky) wedding dresses and wedding cakes. I think of these uneducated 16 and 17 year old girls getting hitched and imagine that they are like 6 year olds. Imagine the wedding dress designed by your little grade 1 relative and how silly and tacky and childish it is. Imagine butterflies and hearts and taffeta and make it PINK! That is what these girls do.

People from outside the gypsy community are almost never invited, but there is an open invitation to all gypsies. Unmarried girls use weddings and social events to show off their bodies and dancing skills. The problem with this culture is that girls are so repressed. They can’t work or socialize or have an educated. They clean their trailers and pop out babies at 16 years. They say more than half of marriages in the gypsy community are riddled with domestic abuse and divorce is almost unheard of because these girls have nothing if they left their men. This is happening today, in the 21st CENTURY!

In any case, I find it sick and fascinating. And even if it is every little girl’s fantasy to look like Cinderella on her wedding day, most of us have the sense to keep that dream where it belongs; in the midnight hours! However, I WILL commission pictures of any friends that want to be Gypsy brides:

So in conclusion, I am going to leave you with some thoughts and feelings-

Something I am Angry about:

My car got broken into AGAIN! I filed a police report and called my property manager to move my parking spot to a more exposed area, but that doesn't change the fact that it is going to cost me a fortune to fix!

Something I am Looking Forward to:

Our cottages are almost complete! Soon we will have a new Bunkie that can sleep six and Stuart's cottage construction should be complete by mid-July.

Something that is Frustrating me:

I am learning some new positions at work, but I am finding it difficult to balance my old and new responsibilities while we are short staffed. In light of my new tasks, I was also denied vacation because now I am considered backup for other departments and only one person can be off at a time from each one. Boo!

Thanks, that is all for now loyal blog-readers!



WE GOT EVICTED! It IS the end of the World!

So I officially got my eviction letter for our apartment. I was walking through the stairwell, coming home from work and my site supervisor was in the hallway, going door to door. He sees me and says “I come bearing bad news.” If that isn’t the understatement of the century! So he hands me my big brown envelope of death and I know immediately that my pipe dream of renting my quaint little apartment for a few more years has been abolished. I say “you’re kicking us out, aren’t you?” and all he says is “yup!” like that should answer all my questions.

We have 6 months to find a new place. We can’t even become squatters because the whole building is scheduled for demolition. Where my building stands now is going to be a parking lot or tennis court, or some other useless use of valuable living space. I knew something bad was on the way when I saw one of those brightly spray painted stakes sticking out of our front lawn saying ‘New Bell Line’. We aren’t even getting the worst of it. The couple beside us just moved in about 3 months ago. They have JUST started hanging pictures (I can hear them hammering through the walls). Stuart and I had hoped to make friends with our new neighbours, but we just ended up humiliating ourselves when we knocked on their door to tell them they had left their keys in the lock. The ‘boyfriend’ answered the door in a very small robe (obviously hers) and all the lights were off and he was NOT happy at our interruption. I guess we had wrecked the mood, so we sheepishly wandered off and are only just now starting to make eye contact again. Oh well, no harm no fowl.

On another note, the world didn’t end. However, in light of the information from above, I have no doubt MY WORLD is in an apocalyptic state. The May 2-4 weekend, may have been predicted as the ‘end of days’ but Saturday afternoon was beautiful. There was an unreal thunder and lightning storm in the middle of the night over the long weekend, and I can’t deny that I woke up thinking that maybe our log cabin might end up in a tornado like Dorothy.

Tomorrow (with humidity) it is going to be 40 degrees. I am not really a hot weather type of person. I don’t like to show my shoulders or have bare arms. I don’t really like skirts or wearing sandals. Maybe I am a prude, or am too conservative. I like layers and cardigans and jackets. In fact, I just looked down at what I am wearing- a collared shirt with a frilly collar, a pink cardigan buttoned up with a belt and a grey jacket with brown work pants. I am lame and I want to live in Autumn forever.

I always like to include ‘visual aids’ in my blogs, but I recently stumbled upon a blog called Hyperbole and a Half and she does all original artwork to accompany her blog posts and I find it hilarious. So I might try it out a little more consistently than I have in the past. Lemme know what you guys think. I am also considering making short cartoons about Hanna’s adventures as a puppy. Here is a sample image. Feedback is always appreciated!

Until next time, loyal blog readers…

JUDGEMENT DAY OR LONG WEEKEND?

Tomorrow is the Zombie Apocalypse and no one told me. I heard snippets on the radio this morning while I was getting ready for work. Those of you who know me well, know that I am a heavy survivalist advocate in the event of a viral outbreak or natural disaster (ultimately the end of the world). I have a survival plan, access to firearms and an isolated place to get me through the worst of it. But it would help if I had more than a day to prepare! I am obviously being a little quip about it because this specific apocalypse is a religious one. Some guy found a secret code in the bible or something and he has facilitated it so that the numbers say the end of the world is May 21st 2011 at 6pm. It just so happens since that is the May 2-4 weekend; I will already be in my isolated safe haven, so I really didn’t need to plan too hard.

It is supposed to start with an earth quake in New Zealand and move along our land masses, blasting our rector scales out of the water. And then it will be sort of like Noah’s Ark. So I hope everyone can swim. Ever since my obsession with Zombie outbreaks started, my biggest concern has been everybody’s pets. That would be one of my first orders of business….going door to door, letting out cats, dogs and birds (the snakes can fend for themselves). Poor pets, trapped inside cages and basements without food or water. It would be terrifying. Someone has to be their savior. In the movies, man’s best friend always comes to the rescue. Remember ‘I AM Legend’? So I will rescue them first. Getting past the living dead would be the greatest obstacle.

I am not putting much weight in the actual date, (but I am counting on something weird happening in my lifetime) but I am not going to lie, tomorrow I am wearing clothes that are layered, movable, breathable, with running capabilities and that are NOT dry-clean only!

Stuart’s cottage fell through for the weekend, so it looks like it is mine or nothing! Bunkie-Building-Bliss I guess. Our family is expanding too quickly for our one-bedroom cabin. Now that my sister is married and that I am fairly bound as well, that is six of us…with four bunk beds. So last summer we theorized that we would build a Bunkie for our family. Just a 12 by 14 little house, with windows and a door and 2 sets of bunk beds (doubles on the bottom) and a little desk vanity. Looking forward to a new structure with no mice, snakes or bugs! However the building of the bunkie will probably be laden with all those things.

Anyway, that's all for now loyal Blog Readers. Have a safe and happy Long Weekend....and bring a little extra bottled water- just in case.