Category Archives: Misguided Musings

Sock Wars – Like Star Wars, Only With A Psychotic Puppy. And No Robots.

Posted in Doggie Diaries, Misguided Musings by

I have no idea what shit goes down at my house when I’m at work, but I’m sure it has something to do with all of my missing socks…and Mags.  She secretly hordes them, I swear.  I’ll find a random sock sticking out of the bottom of the bed or under a chair or strewn haphazardly on the floor and think “Where’s the matching one?  How did that get there?”  I see her looking at me all:

“What?  OH, YOU THINK I DID THAT, IS THAT IT?  I’M SUDDENLY THE BAD BITCH, NOW?  PFFFFTT…PUHLEASE.  I’M BETTER THAN THAT…WAIT.  ARE YOU USING THAT SOCK RIGHT NOW?” 

  “You mean the one that I’m currently WEARING?”

  “YEAH. NOT THAT I WANT IT, BUT ARE YOU?  I SO COULD……..NEVERMIND.”

“Sock whore…”

“Oh, yeah?  I think you just put a clean comforter on your bed…”

*Gasp*  “YOU WOULDN’T!”

“Who’s the bitch, now?” 

*rips off sock*  “Look, Maggie.  I got a pretty socky for you!”

“Oh!  GOODY, GOODY!! GIMMEE GIMMEE GIMMEE!!!!!!” 

Mmmm, hmmmm……..

Addiction is difficult. There will be an intervention, I'm sure of it.

“What?  Oh, these?  It’s nothing.  You see nothing, you got it?”

 

The word on the street that the Mob would have us relocate is getting to be more of a fact, than a rumor.  Now the question remains as to where to relocate the wonderful Kayjai-kin?  Aye, there’s the rub.  We are still in limbo, but the horizon looks very wheat-fieldy or Island Life, The Extreme North Edition.  Essentially, they want to haul us off to rural areas.  Maybe we have been city-folk way too long for their liking?  Ugh…go west old man, never seemed all that appealing to me.  Can I get a witness?  Hell, no we won’t go! 

As an aside, Hubby is quaking in his high browns, but we remain positive until the hammer comes down all definitive-like. No use panicking about something that may not happen.  With two daughters in Uni (D1 just got accepted to Nursing.  Can I get a ‘hell yeah’?!)   the prospects of having to go yonder ways to where they would have to either start a different university or stay here in residence is daunting and tipped on the side of inane.  Ugh.   

So for now, we sit and wait while the map is outstretched before the Mob Boss as he throws one hand over his closed eyes and with his other hand, juts his pointed finger towards the map and BAM!  We have been relocated.  Congratulations, Kayjai-folk!   

And THAT, good people is how it’s done….

True story.

The Barn

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white-wood-black-barn-old-wooden-grass-hi-274116

I remember being in the presence of an old barn.  This was back in the seventies when the summers were hot and seemed to last a whole year, not a mere few months.  We with nothing more to do but to wander aimless and reckless, our shorts hiked up and our faces flushed from the heat, trudging through yards and barren forest looking for adventure.  Or shade.

There stood before me a large black structure, the wood rotted and the inside dilapidated. The tall A-frame of the roof pointing skyward as if noting the direction of heaven.  The window at the top was gone; replaced with just a wooden bi-fold door hanging off its hinges.  The wood was split and left hanging, the wind blowing the shards innocently, as if afraid to blow too hard and break them. The grass lay brown and dry, the summer quickly turning into fall the leaves having fallen, dried up brown and withered away.  The dirt road was dry and gravelly, the stones crunching when we walked upon them.  There was a gaggle of us, the kids.  We were dispersed in age, the older ones herding the younger ones around the barn discovering it’s secrets and noting its dangerous allure. We were alone out in the country. Of course, near Chatham the country is everywhere around the outskirts of town.  I couldn’t have been far from where I lived.  I can’t imagine my mother ever allowing me to stray too far from her sight.   The attraction to the old building was in its mystique.  The rotting wood that once housed what exactly?  Animals?  Hay?  Corn?

   I’m not sure I was ever inside the barn.  The large looming face stands resolutely in my memory, however, any ideas of lofts or ropes or any items deemed ‘barn materials’ seems out of reach to me.  Was it a dream I had and I thought it was a memory?  Maybe, as the motives for attending the scene secretly remain hidden within the black rotting wood.

My brother seemed to have been the catalyst for my presence at the site.  My cousins were there as well, but more as outlying extras in a movie set.  Their milky dreamlike movements float through my mind and I can see their smiling faces looking down at me, mocking my existence among the big kids.

My memory of the old barn ends there.  I have no idea how we managed to travel so far outside of town, or even if it was that far out.  I just remember the feeling of freely walking about and curious as to its existence.  I know it’s no longer standing out in the country, but it’s nice to visit from time to time….

Rainy Day People

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Everyone will be relieved to know that I am officially an iTunes purchaser.  I know, right?  I can feel your excitement! The fifteen dollar card I’ve had in my possession since last July finally came in handy. Good thing my kids know a thing or two about i-stuff…I could still be sitting at the computer screen staring at it ominously while the thing lists even more songs I don’t recognize for a teeny iPod I will probably misplace.  A joyful experience, really.  Sort of like a coming of age.  ‘Remember when you bought your first song on iTunes?  Yeah.  Good times.’   I received ten songs and still have two dollars left over!  I’m gonna need more iTunes money, I fear. I know there’s songs out there that I haven’t yet begun to download.  This could be a new obsession for me.  I could be like the computer peeps who sit hunched over at their laptops downloading the latest version of ‘whatever’ and HAS TO HAVE IT while eating Cheetos and drinking down slurpies until 3am just waiting for a new song to hit the play list.   That will be me, I just know it.  I’ll need a new iPod and have to buy new versions and have to have them all full of thousands of songs that I couldn’t possible listen to in a lifetime.  The future looks bright!

The rainy cold weekend has brought out the best in all of us.  The fam is getting a little cramped and cranky I’m afraid.  The daughters are busily doting to their Mcjobs while the rest of us hunker down in front of the fire watching hockey.  It’s like a repeat of winter during the onset of spring.  The trees are budding but will probably be confused by the lower-than-Snooki’s-IQ temps.  Snow has hit the central portion of the island, hence the curtailing of the weekend road trip extravaganza that was close to occurring. God works in mysterious ways!  Or the weather does, at least.  As for the crankiness, I choose to pursue other avenues of misadventure and turn the proverbial rosy cheek.  The Canadian long weekend will come to a screeching halt soon enough…no need to wish it away.

Below I’ve decided to add for your enjoyment, (or lack thereof, depending on your musical taste) a little J.T. to get you movin’…or to make you spit out your coffee.

  You. Are. Welcome.

An Interview With A Legend, Mr. Buzz Phone

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Today at Kayjai.com, we (really I mean ‘I’. ‘We’ sounds more professional and like I have a team of peeps working for me like Microsoft or Google or something.   Really, it’s just me..’I’…’me’, ‘myself’ and ‘I’.  So, technically the three ‘mes’. As long as we’re clear) so ‘I’ would like to introduce my first interview ever!  I know, right?  Exciting.  Joining us today is the irreverent and highly entertaining author of everybody’s favorite book, Mr. Buzz Phone.  

That’s right.  He is the author of the telephone book. The King of numbers. The Wizard of all things numbery.    It takes exhaustive research and analysis to come up with every single person listed in your area and Mr. Phone works tirelessly to deliver a top-notch albeit predictable, product.  He was able to extract himself from his life’s work for a short time to sit down with yours truly for a little heart-to-heart.  Sorta like Al Capone’s vault only minus Geraldo.  Yeah.

telephone-book

Kayjai:  Thanks for taking the time to sit and speak with me today, Mr. Phone. Much appreciated.

Mr. Phone:  Please, call me Mr. T, everybody does.  But don’t confuse me with the other Mr. T.  I don’t have a Mohawk and say ‘I pity the fool’.  That’s his gig.  Mine is a whole other ballgame, sweetheart.

Kayjai: Yes, I bet it is. The illustrious and ever-changing telephone directory has been in existence since, well since the invention of the telephone, so-

Mr. T: Don’t hurt yourself, lady.  The telephone directory or the TD as I like to refer to it, has been around since the late 1800’s when the very first book, if you can call it that, was made in Connecticut.  It was just a piece of cardboard then listing about fifty businesses that had telephones and-

Kayjai:  Yeah, anyway.  It must take countless hours of research and painstaking exact census grabbing to get all of those phone numbers and extensions and names down pat.  How do you do it?

Mr. T:  Well, first off honey, all those names, numbers and addresses are collected by the government.  All I do is take what they hand me and reprint.  Now, with the invention of the computer, I copy and paste and send it out.  My workload has drastically been reduced.  Kinda frees me up for other ‘enterprises’ if you know what I mean.  *winks and grins a toothless grin*

Kayjai:  Mmm-hmm, okay.  Speaking of computers how has the internet and the rise of smart phones and desktops impacted your work other than giving you ‘enterprise’ time?

Mr. T:  Are you fucking joking??!!  The ‘internet’ has been a royal pain in my ass since Gates first went all ‘Microsoft is fucking awesome’ all over the place.  Fuck him!   It has practically ruined my little corner of the universe, thank you very much.  All you people think ‘Google’ is God-like and fucking necessary to even function during the day!  What’s wrong with opening a nice legible LOGICAL book and finding everything at your fingertips?  I remember back in the day when the arrival of the phone book was synonymous with getting your first lay!  Come on, what happened with society?!   Ah, I need a drink.  Got any vodka around here?

Kayjai:  Umm…I see. Uh, no.  No vodka, sorry.  Some critics would assert that since the rise in technology and instant messaging that a need for such a large wad of paper listing names, numbers and addresses would become a bit unnecessary. 

Mr. T: LARGE WAD OF PAPER??!!  Has that what my work has been reduced to?!  I’ve spent my entire life looking over phone numbers, going through listings, writing down addresses.  My eyes have gone permanently crosseyed!   DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE NAMED SMITH THERE ARE??!!  Fuck me…seriously.  Know the old joke ‘that lady has more Chins than a Chinese phone book” ?!  WHO DO YOU THINK CAME UP WITH THAT LINE, LADY?!!   That book has more uses than simply a cache for EVERY PHONE NUMBER IN THE FUCKING WORLD.  Some kids used the book as a seat stuffer in the car so they can reach the gas pedal on mom and dad’s Lexus.  Remember Guiness and when ripping phone books in half was considered a feat of strength?  What about that, huh?  AND,  I seem to remember somebody used to carry a copy of my book with her in her car when she first moved to a new area, since I implemented a map of the city…hmm…ring any bells, sweetheart? 

Kayjai: What?!  How did you know- ?! I mean, yes, I heard that some people enjoyed your map addition to the pages, however, with the economy the way it is, global warming, the calls for a greener environment, don’t you think the telephone book is soon to be extinct?  What job prospects are you hoping for if or when this happens?

Mr. T: I’m like goddamned Santa Claus, baby.  I see all!  AND, I don’t expect to be booted out of my job so soon into the future.  There will always be the phonebook diehards, as I like to call ‘em.  You know, the peeps with no computers, or smartiephones.  They need to have something to hang on the hook in the phone booths! 

Kayjai:  Yeah, there are virtually no phone booths around anymore either.  In fact, according to my research, areas such as Seattle and San Francisco are moving to ban the phone book.  They say it is irrelevant and a ‘waste’.

Mr. T:  Damned hippies!!  They always want ‘save the planet’ this and ‘recycle’ that.  Bullshit!  My phone book is the only fabric that is holding this society together!  Get rid of it and there ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ the Commies from comin’ in and takin’ over!  *stands and rips off microphone*  THIS INTERVIEW IS OVER!  I AIN’T NO COMMIE AND I AIN’T GONNA TAKE THIS SHIT ANYMORE!  I HAVE RIGHTS!  I’M VALUABLE, DAMMIT!  I MATTER!  THIS IS BULLSHIT!  I’M OUTTA HERE!  *stalks out of the door, slamming it behind him.  A tattered phone book falls to the floor*

Kayjai:  Umm…thanks??

A Swamp Holiday

Posted in Misguided Musings by

You may or may not have noticed depending on your attention span and ability to notice things,  that I have changed crap around here.  Didn’t notice, huh?  The whole fucking thing is completely different.  How did you NOT notice that?!  It was black, now it’s white.  I have an iceberg in my header (that sounds oddly disturbing like some kid is running up and down the halls of school shouting “I HAVE AN ICEBERG IN MY HEADER! I HAVE AN ICEBERG IN MY HEADER!  SOMEBODY HELP ME!!”)  My name is back to Kayjai, notice the pretty blue background design? and apparently my fonts are too small.  I said FONTS…let’s keep it almost clean, people.

Anyway, in getting my shit together and trying (very inadequately I might add) to change my gravatars, the name, my username, my address, my social insurance number, my alias, my passport information and any other shit I needed to change in order to revert back to the persona I was before all this shit went down.  I of course in my infinite wisdom, contacted Miss H who lives across the street then the astounding WordPress Happiness Engineers.  Who, by the way, take longer than Hubby trying to choose a family vacation destination (which is taking fucking forever by the way, ugh and If he leaves it up to me we could end up in the deep woods of Mississippi or the alligator-infested waters of some random swamp because who doesn’t want to see Hubby wrestle an alligator?). I wonder how much it would cost to rent one of these puppies?

I hope I get to drive!!

I hope I get to drive!!

  I’m still waiting to see how my most amazing pic for my blavatar is not loading so you all can enjoy the newness of my pic…or maybe you can’t see that pic.  I’m not sure.  Anyway, I’m still waiting…for the Happiness Engineers, not Miss H.  She promptly replies to my over-exuberant and exhausting emails….I know right, like why???

So, as I’m impatiently waiting for ma lovely artist rendition of somebody that I picked up on the web to upload, please enjoy these pics of my future family holiday.

He's waiting for Hubby to take him down.;

He’s waiting for Hubby to take him down.

Well, this looks kinda pretty...and spooky.

Well, this looks kinda pretty…and spooky.

Hey! Shrek! Maybe we could hunt for Shrek while we're dodging the 'gators and snakes and creepy things...

Hey! Shrek! Maybe we could hunt for Shrek while we’re dodging the ‘gators and snakes and creepy things…Watch out summer vacation!!