Mkay, so I've really been pretty spastic with my posts this month - sorry about that people. As I get older I find that December is such a messy, event-filled, panic stricken month that I rarely take the time to enjoy it anymore. But tomorrow morning I'm setting off with the husband and Miss Ellery, to suck up all the love and relaxation we can in the little town I used to call home. The Bahama Mama is also rolling into town tomorrow, so I'll get to spend the next week or so with her, running back and forth between the houses in our pj's. Good times - we never get too old for hanging out in our pj's. Anyways, just wanted to send a quick shout-out to my blog family, love you all so much, and hope that you have a wonderful, happy, healthy Christmas and New Year!
I absolutely stole this idea from Backpacker Momma over at Mother Nature's Daughter, because as you all know, I am totally bad ass. Anyways, it's a compilation of all the places I've lived - and all the little tidbits that made them unique - since I moved out of my parents' house at 18. This brought back so many memories...
Rental #1 - North Bay, Ontario - 6 bedroom townhouse on campus at my college
Lived with 5 other girls. It was a sweet house. I had the bedroom in the middle upstairs, across from the loft, and one door down from the bathroom with the shower. Liked all my roommates but Melissa. She was schizophrenic, stole everyone's food, and made stuff up. Our house was located directly across from a house full of cute University guys, about 120 feet from the college doors, and 60 feet in the other direction from the laundry building. Smoked and drank a lot in that house. Danced a lot in that house. Met some amazing people in that house.
My second year I lived in the same house, with an entirely new group of girls. Had even more fun that year. Drank and smoked and danced a lot more that year too.
Rental #2 - Calgary, Alberta - 1 bedroom bachelor pad on Falshire Drive
This is when Chris and I moved in together. It was a basement apartment. When I moved in there was a mattress on the floor, an old lamp on a box beside the mattress, a Green Day poster on the wall in the living room, a loveseat and chair that we actually just got rid of earlier this year, an old school tv with wood panelling on the sides, about 4 plates, 3 pots, a handful of mismatched utensils, and some towels. I discovered Ikea about 5 minutes after I moved in, and within a month or so we had a proper tv, a table and chairs, an area rug, a fully-applianced kitchen, stuff on the walls, and the disgusting smell of electrician-working-in-a-sulfur-plant (fyi - that was Chris, he used to be an electrician) had been banished to the hall closet. Since it wasn't the best area in town, we had some questionable neighbours. One pair of women in particular - two 30-year-old little people who hung out by the dumpsters smoking crack with a bunch of 14-year-old kids.
Rental #3 - Calgary, Alberta - 2 bedroom apartment in Falconridge
This is when I actually told my parents I was moving in with Chris. They took it better than I expected considering we weren't married yet. This place cost a bloody fortune, and half the time it was like I was living alone anyways, because Chris would go away to work for a month at a time, then be home for 5 days and gone again. The day we went to see the show suite, I asked the landlord if the one we would be renting faced east or west, because I wanted to be sure to get either morning or afternoon sunlight. She actually asked me if that was because I was planning on growing pot in the second bedroom. I still don't think she actually believed me when I said that I was just growing house plants. This is the first place I felt like a grown up. Maybe because I planned our entire wedding from that place, I'm not sure. I loved this apartment. The only bad part? We moved in after a family of about 10 moved out, and they didn't clean before they left. The end result was that the entire place smelled like curry. We must have gone through 3 bottles of bleach trying to get the smell out. I distinctly remember standing on the kitchen counters with a sponge soaked in diluted bleach wiping the curry off the ceiling!
Rental #4 - Winnipeg, Manitoba - 2 bedroom apartment in St. James
We sublet this place from a little old lady who was moving back home after her husband passed away in the hospital. I remember when we did the walk through with her, and she took us into the second bedroom and told me she had fixed it up for when her granddaughters came to stay with her. It was full of dolls - all scary looking - I'll never forget the one sitting in a highchair in the corner. It had a porcelain face and staring glass eyes, and its face was all cracked. Eeek. This apartment was huge! I painted it all sorts of bright, wild colours and I loved everything about it. We were on the 7th floor and it was very quiet, except for the fact that we were overlooking the 8 lane traffic of Portage Avenue. I still remember the time Chris was too lazy to take the garbage out to the dumpster, and instead left it in the underground parkade. When we came home later, that bag of garbage was sitting ripped open inside our apartment - our landlords had gone through it, found some mail addressed to us, and brought the bag to us to dispose of properly. I didn't want to leave that place, but when Chris got into nursing school we couldn't afford the rent anymore...which leads us to the hell that was Rental #5...
By far the worst place we have ever lived. It was the best neighbourhood you could ask for, though in the dumpiest house on the face of the earth - but our rent was $450 a month, and when one spouse is in school and the other is working for minimum wage, it'll do. This is the place I talked about before, where we had Crazy Eyes for a neighbour? The one that was obsessed with us having sex? Yeah, it was great. One house, 4 apartments. Let me break it down for you. We were in the biggest apartment. Crazy Eyes and Vi were in the one-room hole downstairs. Fernando was a night-shift worker below us that was constantly complaining that we made too much noise. Hello? We're gone all day and when we're home in the evening we have to walk around at some point! Tammy was the hooker that lived in the apartment above us. And I'm serious about her being a hooker - she would literally have two and three men a night come in, do her, and leave. One of the most memorable things about this place is when we moved in, we had to get our queen size bed up a very narrow and winding staircase, and there was no way in hell it was going to fit. So what did my dear daddy do? He took the hacksaw out of my toolbox and cut the banister off. And I stood by cheering and clapping. We got in trouble for that, but the place was a dump anyways, so I don't feel bad.
Rental #6 - Winnipeg, Manitoba - 2 bedroom townhouse in St. James
This is the place we still live - we'll be here till we buy a house, that was the decision. We finally have our own washer and dryer, our own doorway, a fireplace, a dishwasher, a garburator (and I have NO idea how to spell that properly, people), a pool - this place is actually pretty fantastic. Except that we pay an un-Godly amount of rent, plus utilities. We could have a sweet house for what we pay each month...too bad we're trying to get out of the foolish debt we got ourselves into when we were starting out. Anyways, this place has been home for about 4 years, and it's comfy. I have no problem being here till we find the house that's right for us.
So while I was going through all these rentals, I started wondering about how much we've paid in rent over the years. I like to torture myself, what can I say? So starting from the bachelor pad in Calgary (my parents paid my rent at college), I have come to a conservative figure of about $78, 000. Can you believe that?!?!?! And I was actually under-estimating a little!
I think it's almost time we got ourselves a mortgage...
This Is One Shitty Day...And It's Only One O'clock!
Alright. I've been in my house for two days. It's been super cold out, Ellery has been cranky, and the husband has been away, so I figured since there was nothing pressing that needed to be done, I'd just hole up for a few days. This morning though, I needed out. Anywhere. And it just so happens that I have over half my Christmas list left to buy for, so I decided to pack up Miss E and hit the mall.
In the space of 1.5 hours, this is what happened... - I nearly wiped out running back in the house after starting the car. - Ellery screamed like someone was murdering her while I put her in her snowsuit. - I got severely stuck backing out of my parking spot. - My big, strapping neighbour who is always home, wasn't home to help me out. - I had to run to my neighbour with a heart condition's house instead. - He actually had my tires smoking I was stuck so bad. - I had a fight/misunderstanding with a close friend that made me very sad. - I broke Ellery's stroller. (This is a long story, but it's actually the manufacturer's fault.) - I broke the headset for my Blackberry. - Then I called my mom to tell her I changed my mind about something I had asked her for for Christmas, and she got mad.
Sorry I've been AWOL this week - life is just sort of kicking my ass as of late. I'm not really ready for Christmas, and I've begun thinking about work and what I'm going to do about that whole situation, and there's issues with family members, and friends...nothing is really wrong, just thinking too much I guess.
Hope to be back cheery and fiesty by Monday. Love you all.
I don't know if you've had any sort of formal training on how to be the most bitchy, prissy, snot-faced bunch of old bags that I've ever come across, but let me assure you, if you haven't, you should receive an award. The Bitchy Company of the Year award.
I wish I could say that maybe I just had a bad experience today. Perhaps you were training a new person, or your tills were down, or someone had mis-priced the bolt of fabric I needed cut - but alas, that would be a lie. Today's experience was much like every other one I've had in your stores, but perhaps was the first time I didn't leave empty handed after having thrown anything I needed cut down on the nearest table and stomping out trailing a string of expletives. And that was only because I really, really needed the fabric, and I had already left one of your other locations in a huff earlier in the week.
It's one thing to be precise with your measuring and cutting, but for the love of all things holy, no one is going to fault you for cutting someone an extra inch of red flannel when it's on sale for 2 bucks a meter, plus an extra 20% off with your Fabricland card! Really! You act as though you spent hours at your loom, creating this crap yourself!
I don't understand why each of you seem to take it as a personal blow, when I respond that No, I do not have a members card. Why do you immediately pull your nose into the air and say "Well then you'll have to pay full price," then look down at me as if you're waiting for me to say "Oh, gee wilickers lady, there's no way I can afford all this beautiful fabric now."
Do not feel sorry for me - I can afford what I'm buying.
Do not give me attitude - there's no one stopping me from giving it right back to you.
Do not glare at me as if me needing you to cut 3 meters of polar fleece is going to ruin your day - that's your god-damn job.
I know I may not come off as Suzy Homemaker, and maybe I have no idea how to genuinely sew anything. So what if I can't read a pattern to save my life, or I can't remember if I need the 64" width, or the 68"?
When I texted my husband from your store, asking him if we had bail money to get me out of the slammer if I maimed one of you while I waited, I wasn't kidding.
The point is that I'm in your store to make a purchase. I go in happy and polite and ask nicely if I need a hand with something. The least you could do is come down off your high horse, smile, and help me out like you get paid to do.
I just finished watching Roadhouse for like the 78th time, and as always happens when I watch that movie, I was suddenly reminded of my extreme crush on you.
I know most people watching that movie are either there for the fight scenes, or for Patrick Swayze, but I feel that you, my dear Sam, are simply intoxicating.
Plus, the sex scene Swayze has with Blondie McDoctor is like the least sexy thing I have ever seen, so I just kind of ignore him. Which, I might add, is not an easy feat, since he is in about 98% of the movie. Anyways...back to my crush...
See, since the first time I saw you in a movie when I was about 15, I have always thought you were incredibly sexy, and the fact that you always play such genuinely cool characters makes me want to jump your bones. And your voice, eeeeeee! That voice! It makes me weak in the knees!
So out of my own morbid curiosity, I decided to go online to read up a little about you. It seems that you were born in August of 1944 - which would make you 64 years old. Hmm. That's a little older than I was expecting. See, I was born in 1980, which makes me 28 years old. And if my math skills are up to par, that would mean I'm 36 years your junior. Hmm again.
Now I don't mean to be ageist here Sam, but do you see my dilemma? By the time I'm 40 you'll be 76! I think you are an incredible man, however I just don't think I can commit myself to someone so much older. I'm so sorry.
But if you ever want to hang out, or whisper sweet nothings in my ear, then I'm your girl. And actually, I would like to kiss you just once, so if you're up for it...
We put up our outdoor Christmas lights this weekend - new LED ones - holy brightness Batman! Each string was supposed to be 12'. I swear, I don't know how those people from Noma measure a foot, but it must be with an eleven inch ruler. I was exactly one foot short!!! I think the husband would have been happy just leaving that foot of space lightless, but for anyone that knows me, you know I'm pretty OCD about that sort of stuff, so back to the store he went, and I'll be re-stringing the lights today to include the extras.
Ellery has been teething forever, but now there is finally a tooth coming through. This means complete and total misery on her part. For a baby that never cries, a few tears, a constant need to be held, and a steady, angry stream of "buh, buh, buh, buh" yelled at every person, toy, spoon and washcloth that gets near her is a bit of a shocker to us. Hope it breaks through by tomorrow - even baby Tylenol isn't making a difference.
Last week I finally sent the package of stuff that I began putting together over a year ago for Rock Chef. Yes. Over a year ago. Now you know I'm not lying when I say that I'm a bit of a procrastinator. Ellery added her final touch to the box by slobbering all over one corner of it - hope it's dry by the time it gets there! I don't get people that spend a fortune on "salon quality" shampoo and conditioners. My favourite shampoo is Head & Shoulders - the Classic Clean scent. For any of you that live under a rock, H&S is a dandruff shampoo. Now I don't have dandruff - never have - but oh man do I love this shampoo! I would use it every day if I could, but since it's medicated and I don't really have a need for it, I limit myself to using it a couple times a week. Otherwise I buy whatever is cheap and catches my eye that day.
I'm becoming a Pepsi-aholic again. Eeew. Every so often I go through a phase where pop is all I will drink, forsaking water almost completely. Right now it's Pepsi...I wish I could get back on the bandwagon.
And last but not least, my little beach baby...in the tub. I bought this bathing suit years ago, when I was 21 or so, and had put it away in the hopes that one day I would have a daughter that could wear it. Since then I've pulled it out every so often - but of course now I really do have a little girl to put in it!!! Only thing is that it's for a 3 month old, but she's just able to fit it now at nearly 7 months - so no beach for this baby - bathtub it is!
I’m a lover and a fighter. I’m extremely curious. I hunger for knowledge, but I’m hopelessly lazy. I have dreams nearly beyond the scope of imagination. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I adore curse words. I’m easy to read, yet amazingly complicated. Next to my daughter, belly laughs are the highlight of my day.
Essentially I’m a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, rolled in make-believe, dipped in immaturity, and sprinkled with sarcasm.