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Wednesday, November 21, 2012
I Wake Up Screaming
I like this movie title. I've been having such a terrible time waking up lately - I blame old man winter stealing the sunshine! Although I don't wake up screaming, I do mumble a lot and act grouchy, and I'd probably scream a little bit if I was more awake.
I want to watch this movie though. I'm going to make a list of 100 classic movies to watch and then intend on watching them but then probably never do it. THOUGHT THAT COUNTS.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Tulip Farms
Do tulip farms need some idiot running around the fields, shrieking like a maniac? Because I think I can do that. In fact, I may be overqualified. My idiocy knows no bounds.
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Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Indecent Proposal
So I got proposed to, no big thang. Duncan just wants to spend an entire lifetime with me forever and ever until a murder/suicide do us part. I think he's making a big mistake, but if he's too dumb to know that then maybe we're a good match after all.
The proposal story goes like this: we were in the highlands of Scotland walking back from town to his parent's house and we stopped to look at some cows, which is pretty typical of me because I could watch those guys for hours, even though they were just regular ones and not the highland cows. I talked about one cow for a few minutes until Duncan put his arm around me and said "oh, you like that cow?" and I said "yeah" thinking that maybe he's finally warming up to the idea of us having some livestock all up in here, and then he asked me to be the next Mrs. Macdonald (and if a lady with that name can't have a couple cows then I don't know who should!). Anyways, WORST SEGUE EVER. From cow to marriage. And I didn't even get that cow out of it.
So now I'm kinda planning a wedding, but by planning I mean looking at pinterest a lot. I've concluded that most weddings are expensive and tacky. I always thought I'd have more like a picnic wedding with lots of pie, but it turns out we're having a big, Scottish wedding in Scotland and we have to have formal invitations and not use swear words on them.
Here are a few of the things I want to incorporate into the wedding:
Piñatas
I want to make "wedding piñatas" a thing.
Highland Cows
I'm hoping having a bunch of cute cows around me can help me not look like an idiot in photographs. Because that's how I tend to look.
Balloons
Balloons make things fun.
Donuts
I ate four donuts the other day. And while I'm admitting embarrassing things about myself, I called my cat Honey Boo Boo the other day.
Any wedding tips?
The proposal story goes like this: we were in the highlands of Scotland walking back from town to his parent's house and we stopped to look at some cows, which is pretty typical of me because I could watch those guys for hours, even though they were just regular ones and not the highland cows. I talked about one cow for a few minutes until Duncan put his arm around me and said "oh, you like that cow?" and I said "yeah" thinking that maybe he's finally warming up to the idea of us having some livestock all up in here, and then he asked me to be the next Mrs. Macdonald (and if a lady with that name can't have a couple cows then I don't know who should!). Anyways, WORST SEGUE EVER. From cow to marriage. And I didn't even get that cow out of it.
So now I'm kinda planning a wedding, but by planning I mean looking at pinterest a lot. I've concluded that most weddings are expensive and tacky. I always thought I'd have more like a picnic wedding with lots of pie, but it turns out we're having a big, Scottish wedding in Scotland and we have to have formal invitations and not use swear words on them.
Here are a few of the things I want to incorporate into the wedding:
Piñatas
I want to make "wedding piñatas" a thing.
Source: confettisystem.com via Diana on Pinterest |
I'm hoping having a bunch of cute cows around me can help me not look like an idiot in photographs. Because that's how I tend to look.
Balloons make things fun.
Donuts
I ate four donuts the other day. And while I'm admitting embarrassing things about myself, I called my cat Honey Boo Boo the other day.
Any wedding tips?
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
My Saturday Night
I'm pretty cool, right? Like totally hip and with it and radical and all that jazz. Total cowabunga and gnarly to the max.
But not so, my friends! Not so.
Here is the internal transcript that ran through my head this past Saturday night - at 9 PM!
If I go to the store to get ice cream, I'll have to change out of my pyjamas. If I don't change out of my pyjamas I won't have any ice cream. Clearly the win win situation is to go the store in my pyjamas right? And I should probably take somebody with me so I don't look so crazy. But the only person here is my cat so she'll have to do.
This was the completely natural progression of my thoughts. This is how my brain works now. When I used to be all GIVIN' ER all the time partying and being fun and whooping it up or whatever the young kids do, now I'm staying home to eat peanut butter and talk about housewives with my cat. It's like I'm a childless parent. At least if there was a baby around it would seem like I'm parenting. I've been watching a lot of great parenting shows, like Here Comes Honey Boo Boo so I'm pretty with it on key parenting phrases like "work it smoochie!" and "you do the do, you do the time" (for teen pregnancy.) Once I get my cat a t-shirt that says "Big Sister" on it, it's like I'm totally ready to be a parent.
So that was my Saturday anyways. I also tried learning how to tie some knots. It was knot successful. PUN!
But not so, my friends! Not so.
Here is the internal transcript that ran through my head this past Saturday night - at 9 PM!
If I go to the store to get ice cream, I'll have to change out of my pyjamas. If I don't change out of my pyjamas I won't have any ice cream. Clearly the win win situation is to go the store in my pyjamas right? And I should probably take somebody with me so I don't look so crazy. But the only person here is my cat so she'll have to do.
via |
This was the completely natural progression of my thoughts. This is how my brain works now. When I used to be all GIVIN' ER all the time partying and being fun and whooping it up or whatever the young kids do, now I'm staying home to eat peanut butter and talk about housewives with my cat. It's like I'm a childless parent. At least if there was a baby around it would seem like I'm parenting. I've been watching a lot of great parenting shows, like Here Comes Honey Boo Boo so I'm pretty with it on key parenting phrases like "work it smoochie!" and "you do the do, you do the time" (for teen pregnancy.) Once I get my cat a t-shirt that says "Big Sister" on it, it's like I'm totally ready to be a parent.
So that was my Saturday anyways. I also tried learning how to tie some knots. It was knot successful. PUN!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Crafting With Cat Hair
I accidentally found this. At first this seems like a cuckoo thing - crafting with cat hair! But is it? Is it really?
I wonder how long it would take to make a life size cat from cat hair? And how about a dinosaur-size cat? Because there's probably no point in making a cat from cat hair if it's not dinosaur sized. With flame throwers.
Now I will never make any crafts from cat hair because I'm just too lazy to do, you know, any kind of work, but if I wasn't I think I would maybe just consider making that little finger puppet guy! He's got a little collar and a teensy bell! It's pretty cute and maybe it makes more sense than using sheeps wool to make a felted cat? Or is this kind of like how human adults drinking cow's milk seems fine but breast milk is gross?
Well, I just don't know.
via Amazon |
Now I will never make any crafts from cat hair because I'm just too lazy to do, you know, any kind of work, but if I wasn't I think I would maybe just consider making that little finger puppet guy! He's got a little collar and a teensy bell! It's pretty cute and maybe it makes more sense than using sheeps wool to make a felted cat? Or is this kind of like how human adults drinking cow's milk seems fine but breast milk is gross?
Well, I just don't know.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Five Years
I was living with a boyfriend when he quickly died in hospital from a shockingly aggressive cancer we did not know he had until a couple weeks prior. It was July 16, 2007. Each 16th day of the month after that I thought "it's been one month since he died", "it's been two months since he died", and so on. And one month I just stopped doing that. On the 17th I was like "oh hey, whoops". My life moved on. Now it's been five years and again I'm like "oh hey, whoops". It seems like a lifetime ago. And maybe it sort of was.
He liked to write, and I liked to read the ridiculous nonsense he wrote. One email he sent to me was my favourite:
I have an old suitcase full of his writing that I keep meaning to do something with. There is not much else left of him besides that - some chunky ashes kept in a flask, a pair of his glasses, a ring given to me on Christmas - "a token of his appreciation" he had said, his vinyl records, his record player. He was a hilarious mess, waking me up on Saturday morning to listen to records and drink red wine before breakfast.
So today I am thinking of him, and thinking of me from what seems like another life. I still feel sick when I think about how quickly my life changed, how so much of me died along with him, how my world we had built together just vanished one day. He was gone, we were gone. Just like that.
The painful truth is that I'm over it now, over the intense heart ache and dull sorrow that death brings, and the only thing left is the uncomfortable thought that I can get over something like that. And the terrible fear that it can happen again at any time, and this happy life I have can once again be in ruins and I'll find myself once more crying in the shower. But I think I've learned to be comfortable in my own head now. I am stronger, older, wiser, calmer. Time has been my best friend in sorrow.
So it's a strange day. Sad for a loss from the past, but guilty over my happiness in the present. But I am happy. And I think that's good of me.
And here's a pretty song:
He liked to write, and I liked to read the ridiculous nonsense he wrote. One email he sent to me was my favourite:
Usted es una bruja.I don't know what you have going on, but I believe in it. In you. I can hardly wait until I see you again, the big brown eyes, and the happy smile, that somehow looks sad on you as well. You got something, I don't know what it is yet, but when I find out, I'm gonna keep it to myself. You are a romantic.
I have an old suitcase full of his writing that I keep meaning to do something with. There is not much else left of him besides that - some chunky ashes kept in a flask, a pair of his glasses, a ring given to me on Christmas - "a token of his appreciation" he had said, his vinyl records, his record player. He was a hilarious mess, waking me up on Saturday morning to listen to records and drink red wine before breakfast.
So today I am thinking of him, and thinking of me from what seems like another life. I still feel sick when I think about how quickly my life changed, how so much of me died along with him, how my world we had built together just vanished one day. He was gone, we were gone. Just like that.
The painful truth is that I'm over it now, over the intense heart ache and dull sorrow that death brings, and the only thing left is the uncomfortable thought that I can get over something like that. And the terrible fear that it can happen again at any time, and this happy life I have can once again be in ruins and I'll find myself once more crying in the shower. But I think I've learned to be comfortable in my own head now. I am stronger, older, wiser, calmer. Time has been my best friend in sorrow.
So it's a strange day. Sad for a loss from the past, but guilty over my happiness in the present. But I am happy. And I think that's good of me.
And here's a pretty song:
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Bananas Making Me Go Bananas
So I like me some bananas sometimes. Even though the real housewives of somewhere or other once told me that giving bjs give you more wrinkles and now that I'm in my 30's I have to worry about stuff like that. Oh god do I worry about stuff like that. And I figure that eating bananas is maybe sort of the same thing a little bit. But yesterday I let that worry fly out the window and I was going to eat a banana, dammit! I was like this monkey here. I thought "Sweet, dude. I'm gonna eat a banana.Alright." I was happy. But I still had hair on my head, so that's even better. But see how wrinkly he is from eating all those bananas?
So I had to bite and rip and peel the banana with my mouth and teeth which is probably not good for wrinkles and if I saw someone eating a banana the way I was, I would call them an idiot and yell "YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!" Bananas are probably the easiest fruit to eat and I was doing it wrong. I was like this monkey here but pretend my banana was greenish and I'm not as adorable looking.
And let me tell you, did you know that banana peels between the outside of the peel (the skin) and the inside (the slippy part), did you know that it is very very sticky and when you eat it like an idiot it makes you turn into that dog that just ate peanut butter and you just have to keep licking the roof of your mouth and you feel like you just ate a spoonful of cinnamon? Did you know that? So that made me feel like this monkey except maybe my foot doesn't look like a turkey nut sack.
I was so upset about my banana experience that I had to eat three cookies and watch horrible television. I looked like this guy. I'm a mouth breather so this photo is apt I tell you. APT!
So that's my banana story. I'm sure if I asked my friend's mom about banana stories, she'd have some doozies because she's an ER nurse and people sure do like to stick things up their bums. I'm tempted to google "most popular food to stick in bum" but guess what? I've learned things in life, and even though that might be a sort of funny tidbit to know and yell at people in the supermarket, I'm just not gonna do it. But if you do it, can you tell me the answer?
Bananas are good for hangovers! It's because of all their calcium goodness. This is great news. Although if I was hungover when I couldn't get into that banana I probably would've started throwing some poop. I get it now, monkeys, I get it.
The banana tree is not a tree and the banana is not a fruit. The banana plant is a herb and the banana is a berry. Like transformers! "Bananaforms, roll out." - future movie quote.
Bananas are at risk of going extinct. They are very fragile little things and they don't have seeds so if some banana monster comes after them, they can be wiped out very easily. Science. I don't know why Bananas isn't a movie. If they've made a movie based on the game Battleship, I'm pretty sure a banana movie isn't very far behind it. Or at least Bananagrams then. Which I don't even know what that is.
In conclusion, OMG BANANAS.
"Go apple!"
"Go orange!"
"Go banana!"
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So I went to get a banana, but all the bananas at the corner store were still sort of greenish. So I picked the stupidest banana that was the least green. It was just so, so stupid. It was impenetrable! I tried opening it like a monkey does and that didn't work either and they are scientifically proven banana expert gods. I felt like this monkey. He just wants a banana, an OPEN banana, so badly! He wants to eat it with his mouth!
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BANANA FACTS!
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The banana tree is not a tree and the banana is not a fruit. The banana plant is a herb and the banana is a berry. Like transformers! "Bananaforms, roll out." - future movie quote.
Bananas are at risk of going extinct. They are very fragile little things and they don't have seeds so if some banana monster comes after them, they can be wiped out very easily. Science. I don't know why Bananas isn't a movie. If they've made a movie based on the game Battleship, I'm pretty sure a banana movie isn't very far behind it. Or at least Bananagrams then. Which I don't even know what that is.
In conclusion, OMG BANANAS.
via |
"Go orange!"
"Go banana!"
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Beer, It's Lovely!
Ah, the olden times.
Sometimes I sort of feel like I shoulda been one of these guys - an old man painter talking about hookers and boats and beer and wearing hats. Well, I guess I could still be an old hooker that works on boats and wears hats. And by hats I mean people would sit on my face.
I stopped hoping and dreaming a long time ago.
via Retronaut |
Sometimes I sort of feel like I shoulda been one of these guys - an old man painter talking about hookers and boats and beer and wearing hats. Well, I guess I could still be an old hooker that works on boats and wears hats. And by hats I mean people would sit on my face.
I stopped hoping and dreaming a long time ago.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Grand Ole Bestiary
I found some old photos of my family online! Just kidding, they're not my family but they SHOULD BE. These guys are awesome. I guess it's obvious that we're not related because of, you know, the animal heads but I could easily have an animal head too! You don't know. (Hint: if I had an animal head, it would probably be a walrus).
But anyways, here's what I think is going through the minds of these fabulous critters (all from Retronaut):
But anyways, here's what I think is going through the minds of these fabulous critters (all from Retronaut):
"Dude. I am so stoned right now. I don't even know if I'm a mouse or a squirrel. Either way, we should eat some cheese. Hey, what are we looking at, bro? Is that the Titanic? Are we alive during the Titanic times? Where'd you even get those cookies? Oh god, we're in an experiment aren't we? They're experimenting on us! I am NOT hitting that button again. Oh man, I'm freaking out right now. I do NOT like this. Oh shit, are those acorns? I like your shirt. Hey, I have the same shirt!"
"I am such a horny gal!"
"So that bitch Courtney is just playing him! You should see her, Delores! She does this annoying thing with her mouth all the time that is trying to be sexy but she's just DUMB, you know? She always brings up how she's a MODEL, you know, and none of the other girls in the house even like her, she's so bitchy I just hate her. Ugh. And you know he's going to pick her in the end. Men are so stupid."
"Come along, Finnigan, and don't give me no sass. I have to hurry back home and get that gazelle in the oven! I met the most wonderful lion cub named Simba last week and I'm cooking him dinner tonight. I think tonight is the night, Finnigan! I have the perfect Elton John song to play for our magical moment!"
I. am. bored.
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