Monday, February 27, 2006

Why Can't I Focus?!?!?!

Gah! I'm so sick of this weather, of working at the sub Shack, of going back and forth between here and home, of not having the drive to make myself somehting for supper......

I'm just tired!

How can I be tired? I just had over seven consecutive days off!

The next time I get time off, I"m doing nothing. Really. NOTHING. I'm renting movies and sitting here in Hell with my cat. (Who is still wearing the ridiculous lampshade and who still looks as ridiculous as a lampshade around one's neck can look).

Guess what Cute Boy did last night? He ruined Forrest Gump for me. What a jerk! Jenny died of AIDS? What? I thought it was an acid trip gone wrong? And the apple company that Captain Dan invests in is the computer company? I thought it had to do with JUICE and I will never view that movie in the same light again.

Maybe I wouldn't have this issue if my attention span was somewhat better than that of the average unmedicated 7-year-old with ADD. If only I had been capable of watching hte damn movie the first time, I wouldn't feel so ripped off right now. Life just sucks all over.

So now that Forrest Gump has been forever ruined in my mind, my distracted self is off to try, yet again, to start this one page write up about Weber's Protestant Sects and the Spirit of Capitalism. Sigh.


Reading Week; Oh Reading Week!

How I miss thee! It has ended and I got up this morning for my trusty eight a.m. class. And when I got there? IT WAS CANCELLED. How could I have forgotten this? Ack.

Copernicus got fixed this week. She is wearing a lampshade helmet and she looks absolutely ridiculous. She is pretty pissed about it too. But every time I take it off her she tries to bite the stitches in her belly and Lord knows that having a cat leaking intestines all over your appartment makes a hideous mess to clean up and Heaven only knows I do NOT have the patience for that.

Meeting Cute Boy's family went well. The trip there and back was fairly uneventful and I'm sad to say that I didn't try peeing in the bus bathroom. I think it would have been cramped in there, anyways.

Being home for the week was fantabulous. I bought my dear nephew a stuffed snake at Niagara falls when I was there: it quickly became his new best friend. I was greeted every morning bright and early by my nephew and Fuzza climbing into my bed. How wonderful it is to be loved....

I got to feed my niece BABYFOOD! It was so much fun! She sat in her little farmer bouncy seat and ate up her cereal: I got pictures of her eating and smearing food in her hair. I also got some great pics of my dad holding her which are so terribly sweet. Now, if only I had a digicam I could put up the oh-so-adorable pics on my blog or my website. Sigh.

I also got some pics of me and Cute Boy at his company dinner that we went to; it seems like it was ages ago... and I can't get over how much weight I've gained. It's time. Really. I know I've been saying this since the beginning of my blogging history, and my die hard readers (Both of you!) are sick to death of hearing about it. But I must lose weight. I don't know what I'm going to do. Walk every day? Give up something for sure..... but what?

Cooking proper, healthy meals is so overwhelming. I live in a tiny cramped little appartment. I don't have ANY counter space for preparing food on. My diet of Easy Mac and canned soup is simply because I don't have SPACE to cook anything else!

Excuses, excuses. The person in those pictures though: wow. I didn't think I look that bad! And I do. And I feel awful!

Time for a change, for sure. Change is good. I can handle it.


Thursday, February 23, 2006

I did not fall off the face of the Earth....

I just haven't had the time to make a blog entry. Trust me, there are plenty of blog-worthy topics floating around in my head; it just seems that none of them ever make it to the blogosphere. Sigh.

I'll make some random updates, though:
I met Cute Boy's parents! Yahoo! It went really well! They are pretty chilled out, relaxed people. And his mom can really cook. And Lord knows how I love my food.

This visit to Cute Boy's past has also explained quite a bit about Cute Boy to me. How, you ask?

He grew up in Suburbia. If that doesn't explain everything about why a person is who he is today, I don't know what does.

Not that Suburbia is a bad thing. No way. Hm.
I got to see one of the seven wonders!
Copernicus is going today to get her claws and kitten-producing parts removed. I feel awful and I don't want to take her. But, my mom says that if she continues to be Howly-Gonzales, she'll have to come live at the Ranch until my neighbor and I find a real place to live.
My nephew is thrilled with the present I bought him at the cheesy gift shop I was at over the weekend. It's a stuffed snake who he lovingly named Fuzza. He loves me and Fuzza so much that the three of us got to cram into my tiny single size bed last night to share some quality time.

Nothing like sleeping with little size on feet pressed into your back, and rhythmis little five year old snores to lull you into la-la land.

Off to take Coperni-kitty to the vet.


Thursday, February 16, 2006

My list...

1) Attend my ten a.m. class.
** Not done. Studied instead.

2) Skip my eleven thirty a.m. class and study for my two thirty p.m midterm
**Done. Hurrah!!
3) Don't nap away studying time
**Two in a row! Look at me go!!
4) Ace my exam
**Dammit. broke the streak
5) Go to the laundromat
**Done! All my clothes are clean! Thanks Laundry Buddy neighbor!
6) Between loads, scour my house from top to bottom
**Well, between loads I had to gossip with My laundry buddy neighbor!
7) Make Cute Boy dinner when he gets here from work at around nine or ten
It's only seven p.m, but dinner plans look like a go.
8) Spend at least ten minutes pouting because Cute Boy didn't make it in time for Survivor
**I plan to wait until he gets here before I begin pouting. That way he nows what pain he has caused by not watching my show with me
9) As punishment, force Cute Boy to help me agonize over every single article of clothing I own and whether or not I should pack it to visit his parents
** Trust me, this will get done.
10) Remember to include all fifty two pairs of socks and thirty four pairs of underwear in my agonizations
** Heeheehee. Promise
My house looks great! It smells nice! I even cleaned the fridge! And scrubbed the floor AND managed to produce SEVEN bags of trash! They were small ones, but still. I don't know how I did it.

Now, I'm off to grab a slice of pizza from Johnny's.... mmmm johnny's pizza, so good. Then Watch Survivor! Hurrah!!


Near Tears.....

Dear Copernicus,

You have been howling incessantly for almost weeks now. When I leave, you howl. You howl while I'm at work, while I'm at school, when I'm out with Cute Boy and when I visit my dear neighbor.

When I'm in you do not howl.

Your howling is eating away at my soul.

Recently you have been howling even when I am here. You scratch at the balcony and at the window, watching the world and wanting to join it. I think you hate living in Hell more than I do.

It has been suggested to me that perhaps this Hellish appartment is not the best place for a kitten like yourself to live.

Recently your howling has lead to other destructive behaviors. You have been neglecting to use your litterbox, as an example.

For the last several nights, to keep you from destroying my house and from howling me into insanity, I have been locking you in your kennel to sleep. It works. You are quiet for about five hours at a time.

But I miss your purring and cuddling up to me while I sleep.

Last night I discussed my kitty options for you with someone. It is clear that you are unhappy here.

But little Coperni-kitty, I would be so desperately unhappy without you.

This morning, as I sat on my bed studying, you curled up on my tummy and looked at me, aand purred. And you were so cute and sweet.

Sometimes, little Coperni-kitty, I know deep down that it is wrong to keep you in such cramped quarters. I can feel your unhappiness when you mewl pathetically at the windows and doors. I know of someone, a very loving someone, who would take the best care of you. He has a house in the country, with a basement full of mice for you to chase. He would spend hundreds to ensure that you had the best of toys and the yummiest of kitten chow. You would have space to roam and play and nap in the sunlight. There is very little sunlight in the depths f Hell. I could visit you whenever I want.

But I'm just not sure that I am strong enough to let you go, because I'm so selfish that I want to keep your kitten-y self to myself. I want you to greet me when I come home, I want you to play and get stuck in my hair when I sleep, I want to laugh when you climb into the sink and get pissed when your toes get wet.

So, little Coperni-Kitty, We'll make a deal. Stay with me for a while longer. Stop howling. Get happy.

But if you can't, I'll be the bigger person and I'll let you move on, literally, to greener pastures. (Or, at the very least, mouse filled basements). If you can't be happy ... I'll give you the better life that you want.

With Love, and Tears, and Apologies,


Wednesday, February 15, 2006

With God as my witness....

I will be productive tomorrow, dammit.

Wednesday is my easy day. I have only one class at four p.m and my boss never schedules me to work. It's heavenly. I usually intend to use this day to get a solid ten hours of sleep, clean my house, do the dishes, do laundry, catch up on readings and play with Copernicus.

Usually, I end up sleeping for twelve hours, napping for two more, cuddling with Coperni-kitty for some period of time, and then I check my email, which undoubtedly turns into a four hour foray into the world of internet message boards.

Today was a prime example.

I intended to tidy my house, have my readings done by noon, nap briefly, attend my only class, and study from six until bed time.

Well, today I managed to have my readings done by nine (that's nine at night...), skip my only class, and I haven't begun studying yet.

SO here is my list for tomorrow:

1) Attend my ten a.m. class.

2) Skip my eleven thirty a.m. class and study for my two thirty p.m midterm

3) Don't nap away studying time

4) Ace my exam

5) Go to the laundromat

6) Between loads, scour my house from top to bottom

7) Make Cute Boy dinner when he gets here from work at around nine or ten

8) Spend at least ten minutes pouting because Cute Boy didn't make it in time for Survivor

9) As punishment, force Cute Boy to help me agonize over every single article of clothing I own and whether or not I should pack it to visit his parents

10) Remember to include all fifty two pairs of socks and thirty four pairs of underwear in my agonizations

Hah. I'll update tomorrow as to whether or not I complete the list.

You may now start wagering your children's education funds on what portions you think I will or will not get done.


Message from Copernicus:
y67uuuuuuuuuuuuuuu lllllllllllll../;,mljnhb 4rf ffffffffffffffffv
Me now: Isn't she darling?!?!?


Happy Valentine's day!!

Let's see....

Cute Boy got me a gift certificate to... get this... my favorite underwear store!! I LOVE underwear, as you all know, and now I get to add to my collection! What could be better! He also got me a little box of Laura Secord chocolates. Which I did NOT eat in less than twenty four hours. I swear! Stop Looking at me like that, dammit!!

I got him some random stuff. Two little kissing dogs, candies, cinamon hearts, lipbalm (Hey, he's a city boy. Lip balm is an acceptable gift. Not to mention I got him a manly one. The tube it comes in is blue. Hah.)

I also got two email Valentines, one from BigMan and one from Cute Boy.

Cute Boy also made me some scrumptious pasta and chicken which we ate with some white zinfandel. I think he was trying to get me drunk. Sheesh.

Then we watched movies and ate junk food.

Not bad considering last valentine's day I was sitting in the depths of Hell (A.K.A my appartment) with my cousin planning revenge on a stupid boy I met in a bar and who pissed me off. Fortunately I didn't have Photoshop at the time so we never got around to putting that picture of him on the body of some gay porn and sending it to his frat house....

Wait, I would never plot to do that to someone!


Tuesday, February 14, 2006

(Yet Another) Open Letter To My Cat....

Dear Copernicus,

Since your arrival in my life, we have had many ups and downs. On occasion, I can't picture my life without you. Sometimes, however, I would like nothing more than to toss your writhing body under a bus and be done with you. Last night was one of those times.

Your incessant howling while I'm sick and trying to sleep is somewhat less than appreciated. This morning after four hours worth of sleep I was forced out of my bed and into the cold streets of Canada to go to the sub shack, where I spent five hours before an exam on Death slicing onions and hacking what is likely to be a hairball brought on by your presence in my life. (Yes, I had an exam on Death on Valentine's day).

I was also sleepy and thus cranky.

And when I get cranky, it's the people around me who suffer.

And since I'm a loser who lives alone with only the company of a cat to keep me from insanity, YOU are the one who suffers when I'm cranky.

So, to save yourself from certain death beneath one of those dastardly city buses that spray mud everywhere and that follow a ridiculously hard-to-follow scedule, I request that you kindly shut the Hell up while I try to sleep.

With sincere love; your owner,


Monday, February 13, 2006

Messy eaters and other random updates....

I have another confession to make.

I am a messy eater. I've known this about myself for a while. It has made me relatively self-conscious about eating in front of people. And that self-consciousness is abound lately, seeing as how in four days I'm going to Cute Boy's Parents house.


At the Superbowl, I dropped about five bites of food around my seat. Eventually Cute Boy gave up on me and went to get some paper towels to clean up my hideously embarrassing mess. But only because he was sick of stepping in it on his way to seconds.

The other night Cute Boy and I were watching movies. His beeer was beside me on the couch and I kept on dropping crumbs of chips by his beer: it was nerve-wracking for sure because Lord knows how much it sucks to ruin good beer with chip crumbs.

All this leads me to wonder: Do you think I'll get invited back if I accidentally lobb some mashed potatoes across the table and bean his mother on the head?

Wait... That was rhetorical.....
I caved in to Copernicus's incessant howling (and my cat-raising insecurities). I have now become one of 'those' people.

Coperni-kitty now eats Friskies brand cat food at a dollar nine per can. She eats dishes and dishes of it per day. She can't get enough.

It all started when I was examining the no-name meat food that doesn't actually guarantee to keep anything alive by consuming it. First I found four or five unidentifiable white squares, about one centimetre cubed, I'm guessing. I'm fairly familiar with animal parts, having grown up on a farm and with a mother who once taught a course in butchering. I'm pretty sure that no meat parts of an animal come in little white gelatinous cubes.

So I continued digging around in the can of meant food to see what else I would fine. No human toes, thank God (Because of my distaste for feet....) but I did find, horror of horrors, what looked to be a slice of liver!

Disgust! I hate liver!! It has that nasty texture to it, it smells funny, and it's used to filter pee!!! ick!

So now my cat gets only gourmet cat food from a reputable company with a little stamp of approval from the cat food certifying company. You may all now sleep soundly at night knowing that my cat is well-nourished.
Notice to my pregnant readers: (Or others who may not be able to take decongestant medications for whatever reasons)

I've found the answer to your prayers.

It's called a Vicks inhaler. It is a little green and blue tube that has no warnings on it about use during pregnancy or while taking antidepressant medications. Hurrah! Let your days be sniffle free and your nights be empty of sinus clogs! The active ingredients are camphor and menthol. It costs three ninety nine and for that price, I think you should buy two. Because you're worth it.
I'm still sick and I have now missed two shifts at work thanks to this cold.

Which can only mean one thing:

I'm now accepting donations to help me pay next month's rent!!

Just kidding. But I really hate missing work. It renders me broke and makes people think that I'm some wimpy city chick who can't handle a little sickness. (the truth is that I actually can't; however, we don't need to go about advertising that, capiche?).

That is all, dear blogging friends!

Off to try and understand the psychology of death and dying!



Thursday, February 09, 2006

I don't believe in getting political on blogs...

I simply don't. I try to keep my blog lighthearted, at least some of the time. I recently read a political rant on another blog and immediately took her off my favorites list and I will never read that blog again because of some stuff she posted. I hope that doesn't happen here today but I just have to get this out. It's been weighing on my mind for years now. Really. Years.

I've always wanted to be an activist. I've always wanted to fight for the rights of the rural people, which are being trampled more and more every day.

But I simply can't. I'm not well versed in the actual issues, I don't have time outside of school and work, and quite frankly, nobody gives a damn anyways.

Fiar trade seems to be all the rage these days. Fair trade coffee, tea, sugar, etc. A definition of fair trade: "Fair Trade is an alternative approach to international trade that seeks to ensure that small-scale farmers and plantation workers work under safe conditions and receive a fair price for their crops and labour."

I'm all for fair trade. It sounds great. But why is no one paying attention to the farmers in our own country? Why is it that Canadian farmers are getting paid the same prices they were getting paid in ... what year? Bigman, you know the answer to this. What year is it that our current grain prices match?

Our Canadian government has systematically ensured that Canadian farmers are not getting a fair price for the goods they produce through their little known cheap food policy. I've been saying this for years and I anticipate the day it happens: One day, all of our farmers will be out of business. All of our food will come from American factory farms, where animal rights and wlfare are ignored and production is key. Our food prices in Canada will soar and then, and only then, will regular everyday citizens be pissed off.

My city's newspaper did a three day run on the plight of the average local farmer last summer. I wrote in because no one even noticed that this run was the main part of the paper for three days. I wrote in about how if you mention a hockey lockout, you have pages of letters. Mention where someone's food comes from and no one seems to care. The superstore down the street seems to have an endless supply of food, no?

I guess it's the same with fair trade coffee. Fuck with someone's caffeine fix and you'll have a nation up in arms. The food supply and the people providing it don't seem to matter at all though.

Sorry for going political on you all. I just had to get this off my chest, and my blog seems like as good of a place as any to do it.



I spoke too soon....

Last night I was regaling Cute Boy about the wonders of not smoking. Usually when I get a minor cold, back when I was a smoker full time, I would get a full on sinus and chest infection in days which would require hundreds of dollars worth of antibiotics and me being out of commission for, quite literally, weeks. I was so proud of myself for drinking so much Vitamin C and for fighting off this illness with Father-Recommended chicken soup.

Unfortunately, this morning I woke up at five a.m after only three hours of sleep because my throat hurts so much and my sinuses are a mess. I have a pounding headache, massive body aches, and a midterm in less than four hours. The glands in my neck are swollen and it hurts to turn my head from side to side.

I prophesize that I will get worse before I get better, so here is a question for you: Do I call my boss today and take time off work tomorrow (Which means losing a shift that I can't afford to lose) or do I suck it up, take the pain, and go to work early on Friday morning?

I miss the good ol' days. You know the days, when your mom would come into your room, put a comforting hand on your forehead and say "Oh Honey, you're sick!! Here, get back into bed and I'll bring you medicine and toast and tea. I'll call your school and tell the you're not coming in. " And the tea always turned out good, dammit! And you felt vindicated because someone other than you felt you were sick! And best of all, You didn't have to make the decision! Which was nice because I really suck at making these decisions. Sigh.


Wednesday, February 08, 2006

I miss my Mommy and Daddy....

Im sick. I was craving some tea today. Sickness and tea tend to go hand in hand. My mom always makes me tea when I'm sick. My Dad always makes me tea when I'm sick as well. He even sweetens it with honey instead of sugar, because that helps coat your throat and ease the itchiness.

Well, I don't have any honey. My cups are too big and the tea doesn't steep properly. It just isn't the same. No matter if I step it for two minutes or eight, if I put two scoops of sugar or three, it is just not the same as when my Mommy and Daddy make my tea.

Don't even get me started on the state of the Kraft Dinner I've been eating. Sigh.


Thanks, Berry Queen......

Berry Queen, Berry King and their four beautiful babies came out to the ranch for a superbowl party on Sunday. I was thrilled, as I hadn't seen the kids for ages. Berry Queen's kids are the best. They are well-behaved, wel mannered, attractive, occasionally well dressed, always smell pretty and are wildly entertaining. In short, I love them.

Unfortunately, on top of being nice smelling, well mannered, well behaved et al, the kids were also feeling rather contagious on Sunday.

Hence the reason I can't breath, hear, or speak normally, I'm guessing.

However, I am trying a trick that I learned from a classmate in college. I tried it once before and it worked...

She told me that the common cold is nothing more than a vitamin C deficiency. Now, I don't know about that, but in the past I've tried consuming vast quantities of orange juice and it seemed to stave off the illness. Yesterday I consumed a large jug of orange juice, and some Halls Vitamin C tablets, and really, I'm not as sick as I felt last night.

I just wish I coud breath.

Anyhow, the only reason I'm blogging is to procrastinate my schoolwork. Sigh.

Of to study deviant behavior...


Saturday, February 04, 2006

City folks won't find this funny.....

Cute Boy is coming out to the ranch tomorrow. Big brother asked us if we'd be interested in the possibility of four wheeling.

Cute Boy: Sounds good.

Me: Do you have outerwear?

Cute Boy: Not really, but Roommate has boots I can borrow

Me: Are they suitable for being hosed off after we're done? Like, can they handle a good hosing-down?

Cute Boy: Why? Is there mud involved?

Aaaaaahh, city people.

I've got the "Someone Used My Toothbrush" Blues...

Now, I don't 'officially' live at home any more. But I visit often. I'm a glutton for punishment that way.

To make my travels easier, I leave certain article at home for my visits. Jammies, underwear, toothbrush... stuff like that.

So tonight, upon my arrival at the ranch, I decided, like most hygenic people do, to brush my teeth.

My toothbrush looked like something someone tried to clean the gunk off the bottom of their barn boots with. The bristles have been spread out, as though rigorous brishing had been going on with it. I do NOT brush rigorously. I have very sensitive, lady-like gums that can not handle rough treatment.

I was rather perplexed.

The tothbrush situation in my family's house is an odd one. We have random people spending the night and needing toothbrushes. I suppose it is easy to mix up whose is whose, on account of there being only so many colors in the rainbow. For example, Berry Queen spent the night here a few weeks ago, and the toothbrush that was given to her is still in the cupboard. My mother gets a new toothbrush every few weeks and has a hard time remembering to throw out the old one. Sigh.

So I looked aorund the house, but there seemed to be a shortage of new toothbrushes. Dammit. My mother came to help me solve the problem.

There was no solution.

Well, there was one.

She has a pink toothbrush that she's only used... a 'few' times, whatever that means.

What's a girl to do?

The only logical step followed.

I washed it with hot lemony fresh hand soap. I brushed my teeth. And I headed for the case of beer that awaited me in the beer room.

And as the alcohol mixed it's way into my veins with a conglomoration of nicotine and prescription drugs, all seemed to become right with the world.


Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Normal people don't live like this!!!

First, I had yucky brown water.

Now, I have no water.

Wait, that's a lie.

I have ice water.

Ever showered in ice water?

I don't intend to start today.

Which means that I am refusing to leave the depths of Hell until my water gets turned back on and it is coming out warm and CLEAR.

EXCEPT that I have a date with Cute Boy today and I really don't want to stand him up with such a lame excuse as "I can't go, I need to wash my hair". (Although, really, it would be funny to give someone that line and have it be true. )

Let's vote: baseball caps sexy? yay or nay?

Gah. I can't believe that this is my life.