Tag Archives: Funny

The Book Bag Has Gone A’Missing! Oh, Mon Dieu!

Posted in Misguided Musings by

Case of the Missing Book Bag (2)Son’s book bag took to hiding this morning.  My pictorial version of the events, with Mags the Wonder Dog looking on in all of her cuteness. My artistic talent knows no bounds!!  We sent son off to school thinking he left it on the bus.  Oops, our bad.  Turns out, D1 had taken his book bag down to her room the night before mistakenly thinking it was hers…they’re both black.  Hence, the argument for hers to have some colour in it and not simply the big MEMORIAL UNIVERSITY written on the outside in white lettering.  Yeah.

So, son rode the bus in utter panic thinking it was gone forever.  I called the school once it was found and the secretary knew that ma little Rain Man was upset at the impending doom of his book bag.  It was returned before lunch.  Tragedy averted…order was restored to the universe.  You. Are. Welcome.

AND, we are a  bi-lingual household…even the dog speaks French!  And the inanimate objects!  Okay, no we’re not, but it makes for interesting bubble chatter…

It’s Like the Golden Globes but Without the Pretty Dresses and the Awards and the Celebrities

Posted in Misguided Musings by

 

golden globe

I was watching the Golden Globes the other night with the ladies.  As we were sitting around laughing about our Yoga class escapades in our yoga pants and downing wine and chocolate,(which is necessary after Yoga.  It’s the rules.  We looked it up) we listened to Tina Fey and Amy Poehler crack jokes and make fun.  Then the awards started.  And the speeches.  Aside from the Bissetian Diatribe of Death where Jacqueline Bisset decided to enlighten us about her ‘beauty secret’, (apparently it’s forgiveness.  Okay, so I forgive you for being drunk and rambling.  There.  I should be gorgeous in the morning.  Thank you, Jackie!) it occurred to me that we shouldn’t have to thank people we think are awesome and who have made indelible marks on our lives only after we are presented with an awesome award…really, we all deserve Globes just for sitting through Bisset’s rambling and Diane Keaton’s weak singing.. really, we should. AND, Gorgeous George was nowhere to be found.  Ugh. We should take that golden opportunity to thank our peeps now.

So, in the spirit of the Globes, I hereby give my thank you speech in advance in case I win an Oscar, or a Golden globe or a Razzy or even a tube sock as a booby prize (although, winning a booby prize would infer winning a booby…not a tube sock) and at the time of the illustrious award presentation,  I am unable to form words recognizable to the human ear…or by some unfathomable twist of fate, morph into Jacqueline Bisset.

First of all I want to thank my husband of twenty something years for only being a douche half the time.  I understand that living with me can be painful and downright bizarre, so I’ll forgive you for being Mr. Crabby Pants on occasion…or twenty.  I can’t imagine living my life without you and I love you to death.  And you make me smile when I think you’re being a total asshole, so there’s that.

Thank you for my children for surviving all of the crap we put you through with moving and then forcing you to be responsible little people.  I know it’s painful to live with a father who likes rules and a mommy who thinks Teletubbies are an alternate alien life form, but through it all you have somehow survived.  And have become people!  Actual living and breathing people.  By some miracle of the universe you are not only intelligent, caring and cute, but you are all funny as shit.  I take credit for that.  You. Are. Welcome.  I mean…I love you all to the depths of my being and I am honored to be your mommy. 

To my family in Ontario who like to take credit for my upbringing in some happenstance, I thank you for letting me sleep in your kid’s room, holding my hand through my mother’s death and giving me the advice of a lifetime, “Don’t eat the gum that’s stuck to the bottom of the table”.  You all rock.

Thank you to my brother who managed to survive my awkward shyness, and not totally deny my existence to his friends…all of the time.  I know there was an unsaid understanding that you would be my brother forever and for that I love you.  Thank you to his wife for being the sensible one and the nephew for being the creative one and putting up with my new-found sense of humor. I know I take some getting used to, but let’s face it your family is waaay more crazy than me, so really I think as a SIL, you hit the jackpot lady.   

To my parents who had the daunting task of raising a shy redheaded freckle-face, I love you both deeply and I carry you with me everywhere.  I see you in my son’s blue eyes, my daughter’s round face and my daughter’s expressions.  You are the reason I have a beautiful family.

To Oogie and Floyd who somehow decided that becoming a part of three kids’ lives was a great idea, I think you got way more than you bargained for with us.  You have left us with loving memories of a summer cottage on a lake, a first plane ride and countless Christmases and weekends filled with laughter and love.  I miss you both desperately and carry your smiles with me daily. You gave me a sistah from another mutha who thinks I’m a bit ‘out there’ but still has the guts to admit she knows me.  Awesome.

To my in-laws who, after our first meeting said , “She’s sarcastic as shit but maybe we can get to like her on some level”. You all have put up with me for so long, I’m surprised you still want to associate with an asshole like me.  God love ya’s.

To ma family out on the West coast, you’ve known me from being a shy introvert to a sarcastic wino and I love you to bits.  If we ever get the chance to live in the same coast, the island will never be the same.  I’m lucky to have besties on two coasts.

To ma Facebook friends and family, it’s a wonder you all admit that you know me.  You still ‘like’ my stupid remarks and lame comments which totally floors me.  I’m always expecting to get a message in my inbox saying “Please stop being an asshole and stop leaving shit on my wall. I don’t really like you that much, I’m just your friend because your brother told me I had to be.” But that has not yet happened…maybe after this post it will.  You all have been so supportive and nice and even inspirational!  Thanks for that. 

To ma girls in St. John’s, you all have become more than just neighbours, you are ma friends and despite ma annoying emails, ma ability to make fun of lost children and wayward puppies, you still by some bizarre happenstance, put up with me. Thank you for being my entertainment, my confidants and my besties.  I manage to write a bit because you all encourage me to keep going and at the same time, laugh at all the shit I throw down. You all rock!

Finally, to ma blogging buddies who inspire me to write a bit and visit me on occasion to say nice things, thank you for making ma blogging days a little brighter.  I look forward to your posts, love hearing your comments and take a little joy in thinking I may know you just a bit. 

There, I hope I didn’t go over ma time limit and the hokey music isn’t playing to try to push me off the stage.  I am truly grateful to all of you for making me a better person, despite my asshatery.  You have all made huge marks on my life…and some of you, on ma carpet and F’s chairs.  Clean that shit up, will ‘ya?

Reallly, Jackie you should stop talking...like 5 mins. ago

Reallly, Jackie you should stop talking…like 5 mins. ago

Namaste and Other Yoga Words I Can’t Say

Posted in Misguided Musings by

I attended my first yoga class evah, last night with Bestie, D and KS. We thought it would be a good way to start the New Year off right and it may be fun!  Apparently, ‘fun’ is relative.  The location was a small structure that I kindly referred to like this:  “OH MY GOD WE’RE DOING YOGA IN A SHED!”  Had it been equipped with a dart board and a wood stove, we would have rushed to the nearest liquor store for the wine and snacks, Yoga class be damned.  As it turned out, it was a small daycare complete with cubbie holes and manipulative block area.  The room NEXT to the daycare room was where I would experience the Downward Dog and the Tree pose ( I was more of a stick, than a tree.  Yeah.)

The dog is laughing at my downward dog.

The dog is laughing at my downward dog.

We managed to secure prime location spots at the back and to the right side of the room so as not to disrupt the rest of the class with giggling that may have escaped us during any portion of completing the poses.  We managed to be somewhat mature adults (yay us!) for the majority of the time.  There were some serious students of the Yoga practice who attended and we did not want to appear rude or inconsiderate.

Apparently, Yoga is a meditative and QUIET activity where they try to instill an aura of inner peace and tranquil contemplation.  Oh, yeah sign me the fuck up.  Sure…I can be quiet, in fact I AM quiet ¾ of the time…except, at the end of the class when we were supposed to lie down and be COMPLETELY STILL.   Yeah.   I reached for my water to have a sip before I fell into a near catatonic state of relaxation.  As I reached for my water bottle, it erroneously decided to explode in ma face sending water spraying into my eye like a whale expelling air from its blowhole.  Meanwhile, the instructor was going around the room dimming the lights and getting everybody blankets and pillows.  It was like nap time in kindergarten going on.  I was confused…and soaking wet from the spray of water in ma face.  I felt the urge to proclaim “WTF?!”, instead simply looked over at KS who was laughing, which got me laughing, but we were QUIETLY laughing, so no rules broken there.  We rock.  And then came quiet contemplation time and we had to be PERFECTLY STILL.  (which never really happened as I was hearing everybody else breathe and then some random bell started ringing and I thought I was hearing things or was that a poor excuse for a fire alarm?, and then some guy began to ‘sing’ and I use that term loosely ‘cause it was more like he was yodeling really…not actually singing.  My eyes darted open as I was half expecting the room to rise up and start getting their shoes on to escape the fire that was surely blazing out of control in the closet where all the cork bricks were stacked and the yodeler was truly hiding, but as I stealthily looked around the room so as not to get caught cheating, I noticed everybody else was laying still so I assumed this bell-ringing and yodeling was SUPPOSED to happen.  Ohhhhh.) No flames, no fire and no hunky firemen…damn, this Yoga thing kinda sucks.

Ugh…I bit the inside of my cheeks so I didn’t have to be the totally immature one and break out in an inappropriate amount of laughter.  It’s like that laughing disease people have…spontaneous uncontrollable laughter at the most inappropriate times.  KS thinks she is a victim of this disease.  I think I am a victim of KS’s thinking of her victimization and the impending laughter that will surely ensue if we ever stop biting various appendages…she her hands, me my inner cheeks.  AND, by ‘cheeks’ I mean the ones on my face.  I would be a Yoga MASTER if I could bite my own ass cheeks. I think I just invented a new pose….I’ll call it “Crunching Idiot”.

This ain't gonna happen any time soon.

This ain’t gonna happen any time soon.

That would be a feat of brilliance I’ll save for maybe my second or third class…AND the hunky firemen.  What?  I gotta have something to think about during Catatonic Rest Time.  Geesh.  (there is a more accurate yoga term for that, but I can’t remember what it is…and too lazy to look it up.)

Until next time, as Joanne and Hal say, keep fit and have fun.

I bet Joanne can chew her cheeks...betcha.

I bet Joanne can chew her cheeks…betcha.

The Plight of Math Homework…and Blizzards…and the Icicle Apocalypse

Posted in Misguided Musings by

So, it seems the ‘Blackout of 2014’ has abated..for now.  After a few days with no power, then rolling blackouts, it seems we’re almost back to normal.  The blizzard conditions, the mountains of snow, then rain and now back to a frozen ice rink has left us all dazed and a bit disoriented, but with lights on in most places (AND THE MALL IS OPEN AND TIM’S IS SERVING COFFEE AGAIN.  I AM SAVED!!), we are almost at that crucial I-am-so-over-this-blackout-shit and moving on.  T-shirts with “I Survived the Blackout of 2014” are at the press right now.

 School has been closed all week leaving us home with the youngins unschooled and wrangly and me not able to return to work until the building has been deemed acceptable to the sufficiently ‘warmed up’ stage.   That leads me to believe that my office is currently suffering from an icicle apocalypse, frosted with ice as clear as glass and dangerously hanging low, ready to stab the innocent by-stander in the face.   It stands to reason that my office is probably a danger zone for humans, so when the ice has melted to some degree, we can all return.  Good.  Otherwise, I could have used a random trash can as a hub for a latent bonfire…could have been epic.  Anybody have any marshmallows?  Wow. Now I want to go back.  Just for the roasted marshmallows and the bonfire.  We could sing songs…great start to a new year. Of course, the stabby icicles would start melting and falling downward at an alarming rate, sending everyone for cover and wondering if stabby-icicles are supposed to be here?  Yeah.

My front screen door...minus the screen and add the frost.

My front screen door…minus the screen and add the frost.

The days have all melded together in what seems like a time-void.  When the power goes out and one is sitting by candle light and attempting to read by the little book light that gives about as much light as a firefly, it really made me think about all those women in the ‘olden days’ who did this every bloody night for eternal years and years.  Gawd.  It’s all about what you’re used to folks, and unfortunately only the bold go forth and prosper…the rest of us plod on and read by crappy book lamps.  Those ladies had serious fortitude and if not for their strength and endearing spirit to read by candlelight, stock the firewood, cook on the open hearth,  we would not be sitting in front of our fires and wishing the internet would spring it’s lovely glow to light our internal world with news from the outside.

The Mags and I cuddling by the candles...no reading to be done

The Mags and I cuddling by the candles…no reading to be done

The days when kids sat in one room school houses with a pot-belly stove and slate boards for doing math are long gone, but I was thinking if the blizzard we had on Friday had happened a century ago, kids would still have walked to school, still have sat by the warmth of the pot-belly stove, still would have a teacher there to teach them their ‘lessons’  and still would have math homework.  Progress??  Hmmmm….

So, as we sit and wait for further updates as to whether everybody will be plodding on to school and work tomorrow, savour your good fortune in being warm and having a light to read by.  And do your math homework, will ‘ya?  Geesh….

Son shoveling the front stoop instead of doing his math homework. Fair trade...I guess.

Son shoveling the front stoop instead of doing his math homework. Fair trade…I guess.

Snowy Days

Posted in Misguided Musings by

charlie brown shovelling

Our first snow-fall of the season and I’m exhausted.  With Hubby out of commission, (knee surgery..again. )  I decided to command the snow blower in order to move ma lovely car…so I could get to work on time.  Students were awaiting ma arrival to begin their exams!  I needed to sweep in there and make sure all were taken care of in a super-human and wonder-womanish like manner…kinda.  So at 6 am I head out to the man-shed and

…stood there looking like an ass.

I had no idea how to open the blessed doors…then I couldn’t find the light switch.  Hubby came hobbling out on one leg to show me how to turn on the light (the switch on the right hand side should have been my first clue. Duh) and how to start the snow blower…apparently, you have to plug the bloody thing in.  Who knew?  Last time I ran it I had to push a button.  He changed it up on me.  The thing is old, so it’s necessary to do a series of steps after it’s plugged in and before you start it.  I had to do a bunch of hand signals, push this, pull that and it magically started…I looked like that pretend sign language interpreter dude at Mandella’s funeral.

Only he’s a bit taller and he wasn’t wearing a parka.

The snow blower started and away I went…I almost took out the gate and part of the fence but the thing was moving!  I was so proud…until I hit the first drift and almost stalled the thing out.  Hubby comes hobbling out again…”You’re making my snow blower sound funny”..  “No I’m not!  That’s how it sounds!  It’s not like it’s supposed to speak whale or something, is it?!”

He takes it from me and proceeds to push it through the first drift…on one leg.  We start yelling at each other.  Me telling him to go back into the house and he trying to direct my snow blowing techniques.  Pretty soon, it was a full on “YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS! GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME TO DO THIS BEFORE YOU HURT YOURSELF”  and he “I WILL AS SOON AS YOU DO THIS RIGHT!”  I’m surprised the neighbours weren’t calling the cops and having them cite us for disturbing the peace. All I needed was one good push and hubby would have been like a turtle on its back in the snow…No, I wouldn’t do that…

Where everyone could see me.

 He relents and hobbles back into the house while I continue to get rid of the snow.  It wasn’t perfect, but I was able to blow out a major portion of it in front of my car and D1’s car. Of course, there were a few tense moments when the blower got away from me and D1’s front end almost had some festive green paint and a lovely little dent added to it. Perfect holiday effect.

  Yay me!

Of course, then I had to put the thing back into the shed…which he watched me do from the kitchen window.  I wanted to ram it into the fence but changed ma mind on account that it would just give him something to yell at me about AND I would have to re-stain the whole fence after he fixed it in the spring…so really, it was about saving work for me.  I wheeled the blower in perfect rotation into the shed.  Then I couldn’t turn it off, dammit.  I forgot the magic sequence of hand signals and turny knobby thingys.

I yelled.

He yelled back.

I turned it off.

All done.

I rock.

Kiss ma ass, snow.