People Actually Went to School for Journalism to End Up Writing About Crap Like This...

Jordin Sparks, the latest American Idol winner, has made a chastity vow. A public chastity vow. Like the entire world needs to know when she plans on getting it on for the first time. Puh-lease. And she's wearing a purity ring to remind her of her vow not to have sex until she's married.

Apparently so are the Jonas Brothers. I don't really know who they are, but they appear to be this generation's version of the Hanson Brothers - three teen brothers singing songs well beyond their scope of experience. They too, are wearing purity rings to remind them of their vows.

And then there is Miley Cyrus. Who is also wearing a purity ring as a reminder. And who I would bet about a million bucks will NOT still be a virgin when she gets married. I don't really think the others will be either, but she definitely won't be. This 15 year has been surrounded by scandals in the past few months, most centering around "inappropriate" photos. And now some condom company wants her to endorse their product! *snort* Sounds like little Miley may be heading out of Purityville pretty quickly.

Here's the thing boys and girls, if you want to save yourself for marriage, then great - fantastic even. But please don't feel the need to tell the world about your plans to do so.

First of all, it's lame. I mean, who cares? That's your business.

Second of all, if anyone so much as sees you with a member of the opposite sex, you know the tabloids are going to be all over your ass about breaking your vows, even if you haven't.

Third of all, if you need a purity ring to remind you that you want to remain a virgin until marriage, then you can't be very strong in your convictions. That should be something your brain tells you before you ever get to the point of needing a reminder.

Victory!

One of Ellery's favourite toys is this ugly little stuffed animal that someone had shoved into a gift bag along with an outfit. From the tags I could see that it came from Ikea - but I figured it was hideous, and didn't think she would probably ever play with it.
Wrong! The kid loves this little mutant animal! It looks sort of like an alligator - but I've been calling it Dottie the dragon, and my grandma thought it was a bird (I have NO idea how she came up with that - it has a snout!), but needless to say, Ellery gets excited every time she sees it.
Lately she's been opening and closing her hands really quickly when she gets excited, and has been working very hard to coordinate her hands to grab things she wants. She's managed to grab a few things already, and was especially proud of herself when she managed to grab Dottie last week...

Oh, hello Dottie!

You sneaky bugger, just how am I going to get my hands on you?

Haha! Too slow you silly dragon/alligator/lizard/bird!

Look! I've gotten hold of Dottie!

I'm just going to give her a little kiss...

...or chew her head off instead!

The Paradox of Girliness

*Damn. Just how do you spell 'girliness' properly? Girlieness? Girlyness?*

It appears that I'm not entirely sure what kind of girl I am. Or more specifically - just how girly a girl I'd like to be.

To better show you what I'm getting at (because I know you're all just dying to know more about me - lol) , I've prepared a list of things below that I enjoy, and have categorized them under the heading I see fit.

Now I do realize that a girly girl can love tools (though the chances are slim) and that a not so girly girl might love pink (chances are also slim), but I seem to have a lengthy list under both headings.

Girly Girl
-love shopping
-adore pink
-enjoy strutting around in skirts and heels
-have been known to pout and bat my eyes to get my way
-occasionally enjoy being the "damsel in distress"
-cry like a baby at anything remotely emotional
-have been known to cry like a baby even when something isn't emotional
-can't leave the house without mascara on
-blush at the most ridiculous things

Not So Girly Girl
-have my own toolbox/power tools
-enjoy assembling furniture, barbeques, appliances and what have you
-love a good fight/wrestle/argument
-like to do things myself, instead of relying on the opposite sex
-love demolition work
-physical labour makes me happy
-physical um, love makes me happy (my girlfriends often complain that I sound like their husbands, lol)
-love, love, love to curse

The thing is that depending on the situation, I sometimes like to be known as both types of girl; the Ultra-Girly-Help-Me-Please-I-Feel-Faint-Aren't-I-Pretty one, and the Outta-My-Way-Let-Me-Fix-It-Where-Are-My-Titanium-Drill-bits one.

But if someone were to ask me which I was, I guess I'd have to say a mix of both - uber girly one day, and ass-kicking the next, which - now that I think about it - sounds like a pretty good combination :)

Surprise! I'm in Dial-Up Land!

Yeah, I'm here again, in the Land of Dial-Up.

FYI - I'll be here a lot this summer, but I'll try to be better about posting while I'm here. I know I've said this before, but slow internet sucks. The big one.

Ellery and I have just been hanging out around town, doing some visiting, laying in the sunshine, sleeping, talking, and going for walks. Not too exciting, but damn near perfection for lazy summer days of the unemployed.

Husband is making his way here tomorrow to spend an extra long weekend with us, and to squeeze in some family time before we all head back to the city on Sunday.

I've been around some of my extended family quite a bit over the past few days, and I've made some observations...

1. My grandma can not accept anything for fact until she sees it with her own eyes - even if 14 of us swear it to be true. But then when she does see it, she'll tell everyone all about it, as if she was the first to know, and is doing us all a favour by telling.

2. My grandpa doesn't believe anything my grandma tells him. But if my mom or I tell him the same thing, he says "Oh really? Huh, I didn't know that," and then my grandma will roll her eyes behind his back and whisper to us later that she's been telling him that for ages.

3. My one uncle really and truly is a shit disturber.

4. One of my aunts and her husband (aka - the shit disturber) may be gambling addicts. The weird part about that is that they don't have any money, nor have they ever made any as far as I know.

5. I caught my dad whispering to Ellery the other day all the things that he's going to teach her as she grows up. The cutest and most hilarious thing I heard him say to her? "My girl, when you're a little older grandpa is going to teach you how to fight off the boys - we don't want them hanging around you. You're going to be a tough little girl. Did you know your mom is a tough little girl too? Yep, she's small, but did you know she can beat up your uncle Matthew? You're going to be tough, just like your mom."
Then he went on to explain to her the techniques of a good punch.
Whatever, as long as she keeps the boys away :)

6. My cousin Kevin looks like Peter Griffin from Family Guy...he even wears the white shirt.

Dear Husband,

Please allow me to apologize for my incredibly bitchy behaviour today. I do realize that I was not a fun person to be around, and that I lashed out on more than one occasion.

I know that I kind of freaked out a little more than was necessary when I found your visa bill and all the crap that comes with it strewn across the couch. I know that you didn't leave it there to ruin my day, or my entire life, as I may have dramatically let on.

But in my defense, I think you remember as clearly as I do that last night I slept a total of about 15 minutes as our daughter wanted nothing to do with slumber.

Also, it was difficult for me to hold her while she got her first set of vaccinations today - harder than I thought it would be.

All that being said, I love you, I'm sorry, and I'll miss you this weekend when we are gone to Ontario...but next time, just clean up your damn mess.

Love, Alison

A Reformed Addict

I used to be a Walmart fanatic. Shameful as that is to admit, I used to derive joy from its sweet sales, cheap seasonal merchandise, and one-stop-shop allure.

Back when I shopped like it was my last day to do it, when I nearly melted my credit cards from all the swiping, when I could convince myself that I needed anything - like the time I came home with a jewelled fish aquarium...because it was on sale. Never mind the fact that I had to buy fish, food, plants, rocks, and all the other crap to go along with it, thus canceling out the sale price.

Since those foolish days I have done a complete 180. I am now reformed, and would almost rather throw myself in front of traffic than have to walk through those automatic doors and fake a smile at the 87 year old greeter nearly getting trampled by the herd of 13 year old skanks heading for the lip-gloss section.

I guess I just began to notice that the staff was always pissy. Acting as though you asking for help with something was surely going to rob them of the 3 most important minutes of their life.

I began to notice that really, the sales weren't that fantastic. When Safeway has things cheaper, you know there's a problem.

I began to realize that nearly everyone else shopping there was incredibly rude. I was constantly having to jump out of other people's way, apologizing for someone else running into me, or feeling guilty for taking longer than a millisecond to grab something off a shelf.

And, though I had always realized this before, I began to get really, really annoyed at the fact that there were 4 out of 19 tills open, and a minimum of 8 people standing in each line.

I think it was around Christmas 2004 that I eventually snapped. I freaked out so bad that I threw everything I was holding on the floor, let out a string of expletives, then yelled something along the lines of "God forbid you open another till when there are twenty-five thousand people in this f*cking store!", and left the husband standing at the tills with his mouth hanging open while I stomped out.

I had to go there today to get diapers...it was all I could do not to punch out the lady teaching a 12 year old how to work the till. You could tell she was on a power trip; how else could she block out the sound of Ellery screaming bloody murder, ignore my death stare and the matching ones on the line of people behind me, and continue explaining that sometimes they put security tags on bathing suits - even though I wasn't buying a bathing suit - then stopping her again mid-swipe, to explain that sometimes they even put two security tags on, and that one is usually in the crotch.

This is one addict that won't relapse.

Who Would Have Thought?

I have always known I wanted children.

But I spent a good chunk of my teen years and early 20's trying not to get pregnant.

Turned out that small fortune in birth control was in vain, since I now know about the PCOS that lessens my chance of having children by a significant amount.

A couple years after finding that out, I lost a fallopian tube, further decreasing my chances of getting pregnant.

The weird part about all that now?

Despite all that I have a baby and have to use birth control to avoid getting pregnant again too soon.

So bizarre.

Friday Night Family Time and Fake Orgasms

The following is a conversation held between myself and my 42 year old uncle several weeks ago.

His stats: Single, straight, pharmacist, good looking, uber-nice, shy, and too picky for his own good.

Now allow me to set the stage...

9:30 pm, his house, my mom just went to go pee, I just finished breast-feeding Ellery (which was awkward enough all on its own at his house), and was changing her tenth shitty diaper of the day when suddenly one tv show ends and another comes on.

I don't know what the show was, but it was Friday night and we were watching Showcase. After 8pm that just means that whatever you're watching is going to be soft core porn, so of course on screen there is a man and woman having sex (under the covers). By the look on her face she is obviously just waiting for him to finish while he is no doubt picturing himself as a brazen sex god.

The phone rings once, she increases her moans, the phone rings twice, she throws her head back and digs her nails into his back, the phone rings a third time and she is yelling in ecstasy, the phone rings a fourth time and she tells him to answer it. He looks at her and says "But I want you to finish", she says "Oh, I just did" and kisses him on the lips. He instantly busts into a huge I-am-the-freaking-MAN grin, and rolls off her to answer the phone.

In the midst of wiping Ellery's butt I say sarcastically "Oh RIGHT! If she finished then I'm Jessica Simpson..."

A moment of silence while I'm shaking my head and rolling my eyes.

Uncle: What?

Me: (suddenly painfully aware that he is in the room) Huh? Oh, uh, I was just saying that there is no way she finished. She faked it.

Another moment of silence while my uncle stares at me and thinks this over.

Uncle: What makes you say that?

Me: Uh...(I can feel my face getting hot and I try to make my brain work a little faster)...well, she, like, uh...well okay, she was just sitting there biding her time waiting for him to finish right? Then the phone rings and she sees that as her ticket out of there, so she throws in a couple moans, arches her back a bit, lets out a yell and she's home free.

Uncle: WHAT?

Me: Well I mean come on! It doesn't just sneak up on you like that...you know?

Another extremely awkward silence as I'm praying for my mom to come back from the bathroom and save me from this conversation.

Uncle: And you could tell that from watching her?

Me: Yes. Women fake it. And she's a shitty actress.

Uncle: Really? Hmm...

Finally my mom walks in and I jump up and tell her I am ready to leave - like pronto. I tell her about the conversation in the car and we laugh for 15 minutes.
Gotta love explaining fake orgasms to your uncle.

This and That

I'm suffering from a sort of writer's block. I've noticed it lately when I have to write anything beyond my name. I guess that's what 3 months of barely using your brain will do to you. Not only am I having trouble coming up with ideas of what to blog about, but I am seriously wondering if I could even make any of the topics coherent.

Thank you cards are a pain in the ass. However, since I appreciate everything we've received to celebrate Ellery's birth, of course I know they are a necessary thing. But damn...I'm on card number 63 with a whole other stack to go. Boo.

We got a new couch and chair last week. They are wonderful and super comfy...and I feel like a 5 year old because when I sit on them my feet don't touch the floor.

Ellery hates to sleep. Hates it. Does she want to sleep? Oh yes, in fact she can barely keep her eyes open half the time. But does she sleep? Oh no. She will fight tooth and nail not to fall asleep, especially during the day. I laughed out loud when reading that most babies should sleep an average of 16 hours a day...HA! If she gets 2 hours made up of cat naps throughout the day, I'm lucky. She is a nosy little being.

Here she is passed out on our bed yesterday - I was moving her all over while I tried to change the sheets, then went to move her so I could finish and realized she had passed out - it lasted 15 minutes.

We're going to Calgary at the end of August for a week. I am so excited. We haven't been there since we moved 7 years ago and I miss it so much, I would love to move back someday. It is a breathtaking city and it broke my heart to leave it when we did. Plus, you know...Ikea is calling my name.

One of the strangest things has happened since I've been "unemployed". It seems we have more money now than when I was getting a full paycheque. When I was making nearly double what I am now, we were barely scraping by most of the time...but now that I make a pathetic little cheque every two weeks, we seem to have extra cash all over the place. Who says work gets you further ahead?

I'm what you might call impatient. Surprising, I know (lol) but I do tend to be that way. One of the things I'm most impatient about is my hair. Like when I decide I like a hair cut, mine has to be cut that way right now. Forget waiting till next week, or even tomorrow, I need it done now. One of the drawbacks about that is that I often hack all my hair off, then end up regretting it the next day. I do that a lot - you'd think I'd get smarter about it, but I don't.
Anyhoo, right now my hair is actually getting pretty long...and I'm starting to get that itch to cut it off, just when I'm starting to be happy with the length. Is every woman like this or just me?

It's the Bahama Mama's (Monica's) 28th birthday today! Happy Birthday best friend, even though you don't read my blog!

Stupidity

Sometimes I wonder if I come off as a particularly stupid person. I mean, I do have a big stupid laugh, I'm immature about 85% of the time, I have my "blond" moments, and occasionally I don't understand something.

But make no mistake, I am one smart cookie.

However, I'm constantly amazed at the way perfect strangers speak to me in such a way that implies I'll only understand if they use short, descriptive words.

I almost expect if from the guys in the garage when I take my car in to have something repaired. Suddenly having one of the belts replaced turns into a list 15 items long, ranging from crap like "new windshield wiper sprocket" to "replacement trans-ducer on the rear carburetor". And these are things that I apparently must have done in order to avoid another, more costly trip to the garage when something really bad happens.

Oh really? Well why don't you make me a list of everything you just said, and I'll think about it. Then it's "Well really, it's not even safe for you to drive out of here today without at least getting all 10 axles replaced."

Honestly! The way they talk I have to check to make sure I'm not a walking stupidity cliche; playing with my gum, twirling my hair, wearing a tight t-shirt, and cocking my head to the side while nodding in a concerned matter.

I often find too that when people ask me what I do for a living and I tell them I'm an editor, they're surprised. I'm not entirely sure why that is...but then I begin to wonder - is it just me? Do I actually look stupid? Or come across that way in my speech? Or is it because I'm a woman? Do I look too young?

*sigh*

I don't know what caused this outburst - no one has spoken to me like I was stupid in...oh, I don't know...months? Apparently I'm just feeling defensive. Oh, and I'm gearing myself up for my next trip to the garage...

How Could You Not Love This Child?

I took these pictures while we were home at my parents' house - Ellery was having a particularly happy chunk of time and was laughing and squealing nonstop. Most of them aren't exactly centered, but I was too busy laughing at her silly faces.






Happy Friday (in a couple hours) everyone!

And Right on Cue, the Religion Train Comes Barreling Through My Door

I was expecting it. Preparing for it. Psyching myself up for the inevitable.

Yet still I wasn't quite prepared when I went to church with my family while I was in Ontario and as we were leaving the priest leaned in and asked...so when are we going to baptize that baby?

Ugh.

How about: I don't know. I'm still thinking about it. I'm not entirely sure we're even going to baptize her?

Had I said that, I would have been responsible for near certain heart attacks to my grandparents, and some heavy duty disapproval from the parental generation.

We Catholics are notorious for flashing the purgatory card at anyone even considering not baptizing their child; we're into scare tactics. But here's the thing about that - I have a hard time believing God is going to let an innocent child live in limbo because their parents wouldn't baptize them...at least the God I believe in.

She's practically an angel already anyways :)

I'm still trying to sort myself out when it comes to religion, so why do I have to be so quick to commit my daughter to the one I'm not entirely sure I want to belong to myself?

Because that's what Catholics do.

To most of you this is probably an easy problem. If you're not sure, don't baptize her, right?

Well one of the other things Catholicism is good for is guilt. We love to lay it on...we practically bathe in it.

So for now I'm going to play the "maybe if I don't talk about it, everyone else will forget about it" hand - though I'm guessing that's only going to buy me about a month of time.