Sometimes I get really jealous.
I'm sure I'm not alone - we all have a little green-eyed monster in us.
It's just feels like lately it's been harder for me to hide that monster away.

Nothing is going right.
I'm falling apart - quite literally.
and I absolutely know there are people who have it way worse than I do.
I know.

It's just that once in a while, would it hurt for fate to throw me a proverbial bone.
and I know - I KNOW - you have to take chances and face your fear for good things to happen.
but I am an adult who is solely in charge of a child's formative years.  It's really not that easy to drop everything and become a princess at Disneyland.

This morning a lady on the radio won a shitload of money.
I know the chances of winning a shit load of money on the radio are slim to none.
She went on and on about how she was going to pay off her husband's brand new car and hopefully they could go on a trip.

...and then I wanted to reach through the radio and punch her in the face.

I don't have a brand new car, or a husband, OR A SHITLOAD OF MONEY FROM THE RADIO.

Do you want to know what I do have right now? A half a root canal!  Yep...half of a root canal. Completed by a student who wasn't even alive when the Power Rangers came on TV.  Know why I chose a student to do my root canal? Because I couldn't afford a real dentist.

The best part is, I only needed a root canal because I have shitty genes and a mutant tooth - that didn't even bother me - until my dentist tried to fix a small cavity on it. 

If I would have won that shitload of money, I could have went to a real dentist and not have my mouth tortured for another 3.5 hours.

Strangely enough, I also have a mouth that won't freeze properly.  So instead of the traditional freezing at the dentist, I get a needle shoved into the holes of my half completed root canal to ironically take away the pain for about five minutes.

I could go on - but I don't like where this is headed.

But I'm going to take one for the team here. If you are having a shitty day, just think of me strapped to a chair, getting needles poked in the week old holes in my mutant tooth.

You're welcome.

Ouch. My face.

I am so grateful to have such wonderful family and friends to help me out with child care in the summer.  I never have to worry that EVILBOY will not have a place to go...for that I am eternally grateful.

Even though the help has been very much appreciated, I felt that EVILBOY should spend a couple weeks meeting some new friends and trying some new things at day camp.  The first week was a bit rough.  He was pretty quiet and withdrawn.  This past week was a little more exciting for him because he got to plan his entire day.  He really enjoyed that freedom.

This post is not about day camp though.
This post is not about bullies or camp leaders.

This post is about rude people!

EVILBOY went to this very same camp two summers ago.  I remember having the same experience then and I was so sure I wrote about it...but I can't find that post, so maybe I kept it to myself? Who knows - but I'm telling you, walking around this place is infuriating and I honestly cannot believe half the people that take their kids there ever found someone that could look past their overall rudeness and reproduce with them.

Okay, I exaggerate  - a little.

Sometimes I think I say thank you too much.  Going through a McDonald's drive thru means please or thank you will slip out my mouth at least eight times. Maybe it's a sign of weakness?   I picture myself as a dog with my tail between my legs, just hoping the server doesn't spit in my Diet Coke. 

It's a not so bad habit of mine.

I was honestly shell shocked when I stepped into this day camp location the first time.  Doors were slammed in my face. I held doors for people without so much as a smile.  Shoulders bumping, stair side swipes and general scowls were all that I could see.

I don't think it's fair to name names, but I do have to say that none of this behaviour came from the camp workers - if that were the case he definitely wouldn't be going back - but from the parents of the kids that go there.

I'm really not one to point out rude people (okay sometimes), I know there are a few adults who haven't learned basic manners, but for some reason, the parents of the kids who go to this camp are complete arrogant assholes!

I would hold the door for someone and then the whole clan would walk through, none even attempting to grab the door, and of course not one said thank you...not even their children.  By the tenth day I was holding the door for these jerks like this

Ten days of their rudeness.  I am ashamed to say that by the final day, I had learned not to hold doors for people anymore or smile. I felt defeated.  I felt like Tenderheart being beat down by the evil spirit in the Care Bears movie (you totally watched that too....right?).  I actually may have became a little evil - by the tenth day I was plotting ways to get my revenge (aka - how to hold the door just long enough to slam in that rude bitch's face!).

I don't know why it bothers me so much. It's just another thing I can't control, but it's pretty discouraging when you are trying to teach your little human to be a decent person in a world full of - well assholes (for lack of a better word).

But - It's all over. I can look back now and laugh at my feeble attempts to get revenge on these jerk offs. In the end, my kid had a wonderful time at camp.  He's still a normal kid (luckily didn't inherit any of their jerkness) and he won the leadership award so maybe he even taught some of their kids how to be kind.

Still proudly displaying my name tag from "Hell on Earth".

I don't usually post twice in one day, but I just had to get this off my chest!

I spent my entire afternoon arguing with someone on the phone.  I fought with a person who works in customer service...back and forth...for hours - and I still don't have resolution.

I am completely in the right.  I won't go into details, but it comes down to small print and a $7 difference.  For $7 they could have made this all go away, but instead they chose to argue.  The rep I was speaking with quickly lost his Mr. Niceguy persona when I proved him wrong.

I don't know what it is, but it seems everywhere I go lately I have been getting crappy service and it is so frustrating.

When I was 17 I had a job as a banquet server and I absolutely hated it.   However, I never once went in there and made a customer feel bad for attending a function there.  I always made sure they had what they needed and that their event went off without a hitch, to the best of my ability.  I could never argue with a client.  I would never let them get angry for an entire afternoon over a $7 difference.  You know what, it was hard sometimes to be nice when all I wanted to do was drown Mr. Plaidgolfpants in his soup, but it was my JOB. Not everybody gets to grow up and be a princess in Disneyland *sigh*.

So after fighting with Mr. not-so-nice on the phone all afternoon, the time finally came for me to go home.  I love the feeling of turning off the lights in the office after having accomplished so much in a day.  Today I was extra tired, I had a rough night.  I had to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few small items we needed.  I picked a lane with a young girl working.  She had nobody in line and looked annoyed that I picked her lane to check out in.  As I unloaded my items she scanned them, not once greeting me or asking me if I would like any bags.  When I told her I would like two bags, she smacked three bags down on the conveyor belt and then turned her back to me and started talking to the worker in the next lane.  I stood there holding my debit card watching her back.  She finally turned around and said "um...you can put it in now"...meanwhile she didn't even ask me how I was paying, or even give me a total for that matter!  As soon as I started my debit transaction, she turned back around yapping about the new uniforms they would be getting.

This is just the most recent example I could think of.  There have been many times where I have gone to a store and the clerk fails to greet me or even give me a total.  I just don't understand it.  This is the job you chose. If you can't say hello or give a numbered total then GTFO!!!You are in customer service...I'm not saying you have to act like Mary 'frickin' Poppins, but it would be nice to get a smile maybe - and stop acting like Skeletor because after I've had a long day, I just want to punch Skeletors in the face.

This is not even directed at an age group, I've been in just as many instances with the elderly cashiers who have a whole lot of stick up their hiney.


We all have bad days, but you know what, when I work an entire day and you are just starting a shift, I really don't want to be greeted with your fugly attitude. Next time it happens, I will have no choice but to go all "customer's rights" on your ass.

Rant over.

I am now realizing that I forgot to update the world on my GPS burglar situation. 

I realize this makes me pretty much the worst blogger ever - but let me put it this way you mean people - I can only now just talk about it without wanting to punch myself in the face.  This is me healing.  So be nice.

Basically (in case you are too lazy to click the link above) a burglar broke into my (unlocked) vehicle and took my GPS.  He left everything else alone..my passport, my driver's license and my spare change all left in my vehicle un-burgled. Oh but he did take the cord to plug my iPod into the stereo (THAT BASTARD!!)

After whining about my loss for days and feeling completely violated, I decided it was time to get even.  To catch this burglar, I had to think like a burglar.  Where would I get rid of my stolen crap to buy illegal drugs or kidneys - on KIJIJI of course.  If you don't know what KIJIJI is, it's basically like Craigslist, only less creepy for some reason - I think it's because there are no as many people who want to turn you into a lamp on there.

I logged on to KIJIJI on a Sunday night and scoured through a whole weekend's worth of GPS units that had been stolen out of unsuspecting victim's cars (or at least that's how it looked to me).  Then I saw it - my GPS!! I just knew it was mine.  It was small and grey and it was a Garmin - totally mine! Plus this burglar was selling another GPS...who has two freakin GPS' to sell??? So I texted the fool some guy named "Wayne" and asked him if he had the stand.

You see, the moron who stole my GPS forgot to steal the sticky thing that goes on the window.  Maybe he knew I licked it like every day so he didn't want to get cooties - trust me, I am not wasting any more time trying to figure out why he wouldn't steal that up too.

Anyway, "Wayne" texted me back at 9:30 on a Sunday night to tell me that he did not have the stand for it.  So then I asked him how old it was - and he said he didn't know and that his dad gave it to him.



There are two things I know about people named "Wayne": 1. They are burglars 2. They don't have dads. I wasn't born yesterday!

So I phoned the nice people at the police station. The kind officer who answered my call - bless his heart - pretty much thought I was a Captain Insano.  I mean, he didn't come out and say it, but I could hear it in his policey voice.  Plus he asked a lot of questions - and then he reluctantly dispatched a police officer to come to my home to talk to me about my missing GPS. Mr. Policeman told me not to talk to the burglar any more - he said so I don't "spook" him but I think he was really afraid for this guy's life if I found out where he lived.

I spent the next four hours cleaning my grout.  Because you never know if there is some sort of law against dirty grout.  I'm sure the officer would be looking at my tile grout so it had to be clean for when he came into my apartment.  Plus I had to hide my weapons - the big knife in the chopping block, EVILBOY's t-ball bat and - wait I shouldn't be writing this.  Forget I said anything, these are my attack weapons in case the burglar ever decides to come into my apartment and steal my underwear or something.

Finally at 1:30am my eyeballs were burning out of my head (probably from the grout cleaning fumes) and I decided that I should call back the police man who thought I was nutso and tell him to forget it all and that I will instead get bit by a spider and become a superhero vigilante to get my GPS back.  The kind officer (who also probably thought I was nuts) told me that the officer had just checked in at my apartment and that he was downstairs.

Half an hour later the officer was buzzing for me to let him in - which is kind of strange because like what if I was a bad guy and I said "NO...you can't come in"...would he just go back to the station?  So I buzzed him in and decided to open my door and wait in the hall like I do for the pizza man.

When I saw two big, giant police officers come around the corner I almost peed my pants.  My first thought was "who sent me male strippers?" and then I thought "...and why would they wait til 1:30 in the morning on a work night to send these guys?" but then I realized that they had sent back-up.  I have seen all 7 Police Academy movies - I am an expert in this kind of stuff.

Of course they were good looking.  Of course I was in my pajamas and had crazy hair.  Of course they thought I was crazy.

I gave them the printed KIJIJI ad, Wayne's cell phone information and the serial number of my GPS.  I thought they were going to go right over and kick in Wayne's door (and hopefully crotch) and triumphantly bring me back my stuff, but apparently there is  process for these sorts of things.  I was warned to leave Wayne alone and to let them do all the work.

Approximately three days later, I was getting on my elevator I got a call from a blocked number. I thought it was the GPS burglar because he had called from a blocked number as I was texting him. I panicked and remembered what Magic Mike the officer said. I almost died five times when I realized the caller had left a text message.  I was so sure it was Wayne who was going to threaten to cut my fingers off for sending the fuzz over to his stolen GPS operation, but it was Magic Mike - I mean Officer Whatever-his-stupid-name-was!

The message went a little something like this:

Magic Mike: Hi crazy lady. We went to Wayne's house and kicked him in the face a few times - but turns out the GPS wasn't yours and it wasn't even stolen (he actually added that in for real!). Your nuts and you have bad hair - but your grout was really clean and nice. Also: 31-year-olds shouldn't wear Hello Kitty pajamas.

 In all honestly, I still do not believe that those GPS' were not stolen.   I do think that I underestimated Wayne's ability to use glamouring to get out of being arrested for burglarizing my shit. I still hate people named Wayne (except for Wayne's World Wayne  - I used to want to be him.  For real).

One thing this whole ordeal has taught me...I can find my way home from my mother's house without a GPS.  So yaay I don't really need one anymore.

Dear Sir/Madam/Bum/Loser/Piece of Crap:

I want to start off by thanking you for not breaking my windows or peeing in my cup holders  or stealing my shopping cart quarter - that was very kind of you.  However, I do have some things to let you know about my GPS that you helped yourself to from my glove box.

His name was Gary.  He has taken me many places and I loved him dearly.  In fact, the night you stole him, I was using him to get home from a car show with my aunt.  I looked over at her and lovingly sighed, "You know, I can't live without this GPS".  I bought Gary through my work about two years ago and it took me two pay cheques to save up for him.  Even though he was only $100, my income does not allow me to just put $100 down on an item without saving up for it first - something you probably know nothing about because you just take.  Hey, to each their own, but don't think I won't be sitting in my apartment one day, on my couch eating ice cream THAT I PAID FOR, while chuckling because you are probably in jail, dropping soap and being big Bubba's bitch.  Because that's where burglars end up in a perfect world - and in my mind, my world is going to be perfect, because that helps me get through stupid shit like this.

I do realize I left my doors unlocked, and you know what, I am completely to blame for that! The car that I pay for with my hard earned money (and trust me, at the end of each month - around the time you stole my shit - is a very stressful time of the month for me because it is the time when all my payments are due) unfortunately does not beep when I press my clicky key thingy and I must have been too far away - completely my fault though.

I have to admit though, you are the shittiest burglar I have ever had the displeasure to encounter.  You failed to take Gary's stand which was in the glove box with him, which pretty much renders him useless, unless you go and buy a new one - either way, if you try to sell him, you look totally sketch.  Also, you forgot to steal all the change in my cup holder!  There was around $2 in there!  It is very rare for me to have that much money just sitting around in my car - so that's your bad.  Also, you forgot to steal my passport and my driver's license, my CDs, my two flash drive thingys and my stereo.  Seriously dude, crappiest burglar ever!

Also - stealing my iPod cord - so not cool.  Now I have to order a new one from China on eBay and pay $2 (shipped). Thanks a lot for the hassle.  I guess I'll use the $2 you left in my cup holder to replace that.

So I guess I have to thank you for the reminder to take my important documents into my home and to make sure my doors are locked. Also I want to thank you for reminding me that crappy things happen to people who work hard and do the right thing.  I actually feel sorry for you a little because I have people who love me and I can go to bed at night and not have to worry about being caught for stealing a GPS and a $2 iPod cord.

My only hope for you is that my GPS  takes you on a long drive off a cliff and that the iPod cord you stole catches on fire and burns you or you trip and it wraps around your neck and strangles you.

Love,

EVILFLU

Yesterday EVILBOY and I went hunting for frogs (and princes).

This is something that doesn't occur very often in our household.  Even though I love frogs and the fun that comes along with pond hunting (minus the bug bites and creepy dragonflies), we rarely make the trip due to our busy schedule and my laziness (see: working full time and being a single mother sucks the life out of you).

Yesterday I was inspired.

It's time to focus more on the little things in life that bring joy.  Things like pond scum between your toes on a sunny May afternoon. 

and EVILBOY became an expert frog hunter.

Everything was great.  There were smiles and laughter and we met a couple of interesting young boys who taught EVILBOY how to hold a frog (things that his mother is not so good at).

and then these interesting young boys turned out to be wretched little weirdos.

I heard the smaller boy say they should dissect a frog.  EVILBOY joined in their war cries, though I'm not so sure he understood what dissecting actually meant. My protests and stern mom voice however went unnoticed as one of the boys began hitting a frog with a stick.  The sickening thuds made my stomach turn.  I couldn't believe the viciousness of a young child (probably around ten years old).

EVILBOY shrieked "YOU ARE KILLING MOTHER NATURE" which lost him cool points with the weirdos. I dumped out their bucket of victims frogs and took off with my mini David Suzuki in tow. By the time we had made it to the top of the hill, the young boy was playing with the frog's insides. Of course their parents were nowhere to be found (I figured they are probably off torturing kittens or something).

I feel like I should have done more, but there was nothing more I could without threatening these little goons. I knew I had to get EVILBOY out of there to spare him any more exposure to such brutality.  He was very upset.  Our afternoon of smiles and laughter turned into confusion and regret.

Frog hunting used to be much more innocent when I was a kid.

This world is full of Captain Insanos.

I'm serious.  There are quite a few among us in society who are just way out there.

and that's okay.  Makes things a little more interesting I guess.

I make a great target by the way.

Take today for instance, crazy older lady with hot pink lipstick seeping into the cracks of her lips comes up and knocks on my car window in a shopping mall parking lot.  I roll my eyes as I roll down the window, thinking she was just looking for some of my penny collection that I keep in my cup holder.  To my surprise, she didn't want money, she just wanted to inform me that we would be getting 4cm of snow in today's storm and 7cm by Thursday.  "You don't say?"  I replied (after all, it is never a good idea to be mean to a Captain Insano - no matter what their age. First it's rude and secondly they fight dirty).

My once non-violent boy now brings weapons to outdoor play and calls me Rita Repulsa.

Meanwhile, I am really wishing this lady would take her hot pink lips away from my car so I could drive away and continue worrying about getting a friggin Megazord and Dragonzord toy so my 8-year-old will stop using my toilet brush as a Dragon Sword Flute.

Yes, you read that correctly, my child has decided to lose interest in all the wonderful toys that I spent three months worth of groceries on for Christmas and is now only interested in playing with the same toys that my parents spent a fortune on 17 years ago.  Of course we no longer own any of these toys, my mom threw out our abandoned toys before they could even collect dust.

Searching on eBay makes me even angrier because the same damn power flute thingy that I had is now going for $80+ (not to mention the outrageous shipping to get to Canada). 

So my quest to find a Megazord or Dragonzord failed miserably today in that snowstorm.

but I did find a Captain Insanozord so that was kind of cool.

PEOPLE WHO WERE RAISED IN A BARN

Starring:

Ms. Piggy (who also had the most annoying laugh in the whole entire world)

One of my favourite things to do is to see a movie in the theatre.  I (used to) love the atmosphere, I love the ginormous bags of popcorn and stepping on sticky floors.  I have been noticing an alarming trend at the theatres though that is really ruining my experience and I am on a crusade to make this stop!

PEOPLE WHO TAKE OFF THEIR SHOES AND PUT THEIR FEET UP ON THE SEAT IN FRONT OF THEM.

I honestly don't know what they are thinking. You are coming into a public place, removing your footwear and putting your disgusting, sweaty feet up above a person's head.  I have been to two movies in a month, and both times I have been personally affected by people who have been doing this and it needs to stop. The photo above was from last night's showing of Joyful Noise (pretty okay movie by the way).

You might think this is a young person issue, however the photo above was taken of a MIDDLE AGED WOMAN who decided to come to the theatre with her snot-sniffing teenage daughter.

To me, this is as offensive as going into somebody's home and sticking your sweaty socks all over their pillows or putting your rotten feet up beside their face as they are eating (overpriced) snack food. I just don't get where these people get off thinking it's okay to put their feet up beside a human being's face.

Did you know that each foot has more than 250,000 sweat glands and they are among the most perspiring parts of the human body.  In one day, each foot can produce more than a pint of sweat! (livestrong.com)

Some ignorant moron even went as far to make a Facebook group for piglets who LIKE to put their feet up on the seats http://www.facebook.com/pages/Putting-your-feet-on-the-seat-infront-of-you-at-a-movie-theater/358615843304 .

It just seems that some people have some sense of entitlement lately and it's really getting on my nerves.  I mean, I paid my $10.99 to be there as well.  I like to take off my pants, but you don't see me ripping them off during the movie.  One man (in this same movie) even had the nerve to answer his cellphone during the film and had an entire conversation.  I know he probably didn't want to watch Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah and yeah, it wasn't the best movie in the whole wide world, but how about have some class and step out of the theatre so the rest of us can go on and un-enjoy the movie without having to hear about your stupid life.

I am on a crusade to make this stop.  Nobody should have to eat their popcorn and say "hey, I didn't order any cheese on this"

...so what's been bugging you??

The other day I went to a one of those year-end farewell barbecues. I decided to go for the comfort look so I threw on my new Old Navy walking shorts and a pretty baggy shirt.  I checked myself in the mirror before we left and I didn't look like a creep so it was a total win when I left the house.

I was doing the awkward chat with a group of moms you really would normally never hang out with.  All was going well because the focus was on the pregnant lady of the group.  I love situations where I can meld in like an extra on a television show, throwing in an awkward fake laugh or a head nod every couple minutes so it seems genuine.

Then it happened.

A woman in the group commented on how everyone in the group was pregnant.  At this point there was just the three of us standing there.  She was too old to be pregnant, the other girl was obviously pregnant so I knew she was talking about me.

I don't normally wear snakes on my head.  I actually hate snakes.  They really just represent the way I am feeling.  SO deep.

Suddenly I became totally self conscious.  Mind you, I was a friggin hot pregnant chick:

At first I laughed... because, you know, I had no real interest in the conversation since this woman is a total dumbshit.  I kid you not, the last encounter we had she asked me how I could afford the shoes my son was wearing.


...but then I realized she was totally dissing me.

BUT I SKIPPED THE DAMN SMORE!  I SAID NO...DO YOU FRIGGIN KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO TURN DOWN A SMORE YOU SMELLY OLD BAG??

 and then I told her (through gritted teeth while hundreds of Lord of the Rings daggers shot at her head) that I was not pregnant.


She tried to correct herself, but the damage was done.  My brain instantly went to the thought of throwing up that Oh Henry bar I ate for afternoon snack that day.

Instead I decided to enjoy the rest of the week, shove my face full of cotton candy at EVILBOY's school fun fair and go back to the gym on Monday when it's not a bajillion degrees outside.

Don't call people pregnant when they are not.  It's not nice.
By the way, I bought myself one of those little pen tablet thingys for my computer so I've been drawing stuff all week.  I'm not good at it...but drawing pictures of weird things is like therapy for me. I am sure these drawings will get better....as soon as my hands aren't too fat to work the controls  >:(

I have a fragile heart.  An incident that happened late last week was still bothering me eight days later.  I keep thinking how I could have changed the outcome, did I handle the situation properly, should I apologize again?

I held on to this dark cloud in my heart for eight days.  It haunted me at all hours of the day and I did lose sleep.

Long story short, I almost ran over my neighbour accidentally.  It was completely my fault.  Reversing the car out of a  tight parking spot, stopped when EVILBOY asked me a question and then went again without looking, figuring nobody would have stepped behind me in those 15 seconds.

The woman involved in the incident, who was once friendly with me, was now waving her arms like a maniac and hopping around irately.  I apologized, as tears stung my eyes, and she just kept ranting on until I drove away.  With my proverbial tail between my legs and my heart in pieces.

I don't like when people are angry with me. I try to please everyone, even if just offering a smile or holding a door, making people happy always makes me feel a little better.

I struggled with her reaction for days.  Quite honestly, I more "cut off her path" than almost ran her over.  Her reaction was quite shocking to me, especially after I apologized as sincerely as I could.

A few days ago I remembered an incident I had with this same woman over the laundry room.  The laundry room on my floor was in use so I had to use the laundry room on her floor.  As I put my key in the door, this woman whipped open her door with laundry soap in her hand and an angry glare on her face.  I asked if she was about to do laundry and she huffed and replied "WELL I GUESS I'M NOT NOW AM I?".  I stepped aside and said she could do her laundry and that I would go down another floor.  To which she pushed past me without so much as a thank you.

and now I realize that you can't please everyone.

It's far too tiring and life is just way too short.  It's just too hard to try to make someone enjoy their life a little more when their arrogance and rudeness constantly gets in the way.  Incidents like this are not going to change who I am.  I will continue to try to make people smile, to try to make their day a little better. I know how awesome it feels when someone holds the elevator for me or helps me pick up my mail when I drop it.

I am not going to be walked all over either by someone who is only nice to me when it is convenient for them.

I have learned my lesson. I will no longer be distracted when driving.  EVILBOY has to learn this too because I just keep thinking of the what ifs of this situation.  What if I didn't see her at all? What if I was going faster than 2 km/hr?  What if that was a KID? 

Am I sorry I almost ran her over?  Heck yes.  I am embarrassed and still a little sad about he situation.

but when it comes down to making her enjoy her day a little more, or doing her any favours I guess the best I can do is tell her to go fly a kite.

I have a hate-hate relationship with mini vans. I will never drive one...ever. I know a mini van does not define what kind of person you are, I know they are safe and some have some ultra cool gadgets in them, my hatred comes from fear.

I am not good at parking. (or driving backwards)


I have a hard enough time parking with my "soccer mom wagon", I could never imagine parking one of these giant beasts of the road in between two yellow lines (sometimes slightly over one line - I am a bit of a jerk).

So mini van people, I am not ragging on your choice of vehicle, instead I envy your parking skills.

This isn't even the bad picture on the DSi - but it's bad enough!

Today I let EVILBOY bring his DSi to his before/after school program.

Biggest mistake ever.

The thing about the Nintendo DSi is that it has a camera on it.  Some goofball over at Nintendo thought it would be a good idea to give children the ability to capture moments that nobody really wants to see.  Things such as the laundry folded up on the back of the couch, the dirty sink that hasn't been washed in days weeks, ten different pictures of EVILBOY's inner nostril, oh and let's not forget the best one of all, a candid shot of his mother sitting on the couch, texting on her phone, all five chins are present, wearing only an itty bitty tank top (sans bra) and little shorts.

I didn't even know a photo like this existed until EVILBOY's (very cute) daycare teacher told me he saw a very flattering picture of me on EVILBOY's DSi today.  The same daycare teacher that I will never be able to successfully flirt with again.


Children are so charming.

Parents - before you let your child's DSi leave your home, I suggest you do a full investigation of the pictures stored on it or else you may never be able to look your daycare provider in the eyes ever again. I can honestly say that this was almost as embarrassing as the time I slipped in a fresh cow poop at the Royal Winter Fair.

Monday will surely be interesting.

I come from a long line of road ragers.  My mother is the queen of the ragers of the road.  Her antics have resulted in many traffic tickets, and even a slight "arrest" in a grocery store one time.  I mean, it wasn't a full arrest because there were some issues with the police officer and yatta yatta....let's not get into this, in fact, I kind of never heard the whole story.

My mom married the king of road ragers who only had one leg. Their castle was on the side of a major highway north of Barrie, Ontario.  This was not a very good situation to be in as you had to merge onto a busy highway, which is very tricky when people don't merge over to let you in.  Not to mention it was nearly impossible on Sunday nights as the cottagers would return to the city and cause traffic jams that lasted for hours.  The king of road rage would handle such situations by waving his prosthetic leg out the window at his fellow drivers who had done him wrong.  This would be followed by "RIGHT!" in his thick British accent and a a rock in the driver's seat that eventually caused it to come loose from the floor.

They are not bad people.  They just can't handle the incompetence of bad drivers. I'm not defending their behaviour, but having road rage does not define who these people are.  Driving can be a very stressful situation, especially in poor weather conditions or in busy road conditions.

I have road rage.

It's not something I am proud of.  I am honestly a very nice person *usually*.  This is not something I am proud of, but if another driver does something that puts me in harm or is obnoxious, I have to call them on it.  The way I see it, I would want someone to tell me if I did something wrong.  Unfortunately, the way I see it and the way I call it are two completely different things.

When I get angry while driving, I tend to make up words.  These words are actually pretty effective and usually are made up like this: [censored] face, [censored] head, [censored] of [censored] [censored] [censored] bag. Usually the censored word is the first swear I can think of.

Sometimes I even use things about their car to insult them.  A taxi cut me off one day completely as we were coming up to a stop light.  The back of his window had "we now accept Interac" written across it in big orange letters.  I yelled out "You're going to be Interacting with my foot up your [censored]" and I laughed for the rest of the afternoon about it.

Because that was really funny.  I don't care if nobody else at work thought it was hilarious, I thought it was great.

Road rage is never a good habit to have though.  It's only a matter of time before someone you are raging at ends up being a psycho killer and may be carrying a gun or have giant meaty hands that are good at punching in faces who yell at them.

I am afraid of being a road rager now.

Also I have tendonitis from whamming on my horn so hard (okay maybe not from that, it's kind of a mystery how I actually got tendonitis, but I do know that it hurts like heck when I wail on my horn with my bad wrist).

I listen to soft music like Norah Jones and Ray LaMontagne on the way to work to calm my brain down and not think about calling people [censored] [censored] wipe with a [censored] [censored] face during my commute.

This has been working for me quite well.  My mornings have been quiet.  When someone does a stupid move, I mumble "oh fiddlesticks" and only give them stink eye.

This morning as I was driving to work in my bubble of peaceful music, this maniac woman in a soccer mom van with one of those big giant spaceship things on the roof cuts me right off and then slams on her brakes.  The thing is, there was absolutely no one behind me.  She could have waited two seconds to let me by before she started with her [censored] [censored] face tricks but for some reason she decided to ruin my peaceful bubble.

So tendonitis aside, I let her have the wail of my horn AND gave her the stink eye and I may have let a [censored] slip.

THEN she decides to get into the turning lane...only she doesn't get over into the turning lane, she drives between my lane and the turning lane going all of 10km/hr.

My peaceful bubble was burst.  I drove up beside this [censored] and honked again to get her attention where I then proceeded to raise my middle finger (which hurt my tendons quite a bit).  She looked at me like I had five heads, not having a clue what she had even done wrong in the first place.

(and then I realized that I was wearing my cat hat which made my road rage lose all credibility)


When I thought about it some more, what did that really solve.  She's still going to be stupid when she drives home.  She will probably be a bad driver for another few years before she causes an accident.  It's not really worth it to get all bent out of shape about other people's bad driving problems.  The best thing to do is to just get away from them.

I was going to tell a story about how I am bad at parking and how the obese guy with the breathing tube who is assigned the spot beside me

Anyway, I vow to be a nicer person on the road from now on.  Cat hat or not, I will be a pleasant driver who will no longer call people [censored] [censored] faces any more.

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself


There are a select few that come to mind.  Luckily not many people have made my life hell.   Here are the top three in my list though:

1) My real dad - I met him for the first (and only) time when I was 21.  Maybe I sprang a bit much on him when I told him I was pregnant with his first grandchild, but he really threw me for a loop when he told me his wife was pregnant too with their fifty billionth kid.  Which blew away my theory that he just didn't like kids and that we would have a special father/daughter relationship for the rest of our lives.  I think the worst part of it all was that he never called again after that and it made me feel like complete shit.  Having your real father reject you and ignore your complete existence after the first time you meet really is not good for one's ego.

2) My mom's ex-boyfriend Jim who was an all around prick.  He was just mean and nasty.  One time he smacked me and wouldn't let me watch The X-files.  He looked like the Soup Nazi and I still hate him for making me miss that X-files episode.

3) My loser ex-boyfriend that stole my bike, took it apart and threw it into a big trash bin.  He also cheated on me with a mentally ill girl and gave her all my stuff that I left at his house. I probably should have beat him up.

Whew...this actually was like therapy for me.  Thank you 30 Days of Truth!

The dentist and I have a total love/hate relationship in which I mean she loves to take my money and I hate to see her stupid face pay her money to be free from pain.

I have somehow inherited soft tooth enamel from someone in my family, just like I inherited my mom's road rage and my dad's bubble butt. I can get a cavity if I breathe too deeply in a candy store.  Not really, but you get my point right?

I'm used to going to the dentist and having them tell me I have work to be done.  I see the look in the dentist's face and I see dollar signs in their eyeballs, or a new car or their kid's college tuition.  Boy am I in the wrong business.  I could never be a dentist though.  I would see some grossness in someone's mouth and probably puke it in.  Nobody wants to go to the pukey dentist.  That would be the worst thing ever.

Monday was my regular appointment where I had some cleaning to get done and an exam.  I have kind of been avoiding my dentist because the last time I went I had some problems with excessive bleeding while I was getting a filling.  Two and a half hours in the chair and they charged me for every minute of it.  It wasn't a happy dentist bill.  Plus I almost died.

Not really, but it was kind of scary.

I did manage to drag myself back in one time after that, not sure if I would die or not.  I seriously hugged EVILBOY a little longer on the way out that morning because I wasn't sure if I would make it.  Dentists make me kind of crazy nervous.

So you can probably imagine the look of surprise on my face when the (evil) dentist told me she would see me in six months.

Pardon?

Six months?

and that, my friends, meant I had no cavities.  Not a single one! Something a girl with soft enamel and a sweet tooth just doesn't hear often enough.

and I strutted out of that stinky office with my head held high all the way to Dairy Queen where I mowed down a banana split to celebrate.

I also may have celebrated with my friends Peanut Butter M&M's.  I probably should have stopped there.  I knew I was pushing my luck as I ate those two year old stale marshmallows from above the stove but I couldn't help myself.  I was like that caterpillar in that book that ate through all the pages.

of course I brushed for the whole two minutes after that.

and I even flossed.

The next day I went to dinner and a movie with a friend.  My dinner consisted of chicken that was harder than boulders and after I tried to eat it anyway (even my little plastic knife wouldn't cut through this crap) my mouth felt a burning/zinging feeling along the roof of my mouth.  It was pretty strange, but I thought nothing of it until we were getting settled into the movie and my face started throbbing all the way up to my eyes. I was pretty sure I broke my tooth on that hard chicken.

The night dragged on, I woke up every hour or so to  whine to myself about my tooth ache.  It was brutal.  I had never experienced so much pain in my mouth before and it seemed to be getting worse.

The next morning I called my dentist office as soon as they opened.  I was told to come in the next day at noon (and then I almost cried).  I explained the pain I was experiencing and how I wasn't able to eat, sleep, drink or even close my mouth on that side.  If they were to make me wait until the next day I could die of dehydration....DIE!!! Plus I was uncomfortable as hell and I was at my desk at work holding my face and moaning and my co-workers were hating me a lot.

Explaining and almost crying and refusing to stop talking about my problems totally worked because she told me to come in at 11am that same day.

I was in their office at 10:30 holding my face and moaning in their office as my co-workers had offered to hit my face with a shovel to knock the tooth out and I kind of figured they might not be kidding. Instead I held my face in the dentist's waiting room and moaning, quietly as to not scare the little kids that were waiting for their turn.  The thought crossed my mind that if these kids got in before me I would have to bite someone.  It wouldn't have turned out very well.

I had another x-ray and some strange sensitivity tests and found out that my tooth is DYING.  A part of my body is dying...at the dentist.  I somehow knew this would happen eventually.  This tooth in particular has a bit of history.  When I was a kid I had a cavity in this tooth, a really really deep cavity that rests just above the nerve.  The dentist filled this cavity and the filling did me well up until five years ago.  I can't remember experiencing any particular problems with this tooth, but the dentist found some reason to re-fill the tooth.  The tooth was fine for five years and then suddenly on Tuesday night, one day after a routine cleaning, it decided to unleash it's hell fury on my mouth. 

Now I have a decision to make.  Do I want to pay over $300 (after my benefits) to have a ROOT CANAL done or should I just yank the sucker out (for probably around $50).  The pain in the tooth is being caused by a nasty infection under the tooth so I am on antibiotics for a week which gives me an entire week to decide what to do about this (evil) tooth who I think I will call Grimey from now on.

One (major) part of me wants to just yank it out.  It's in the back so it's not visible when I smile, it has been a problem tooth for many years of my life with this deep filling in it and it is really close to the tooth next to it so I can see a cavity forming there in the future.

On the other hand it is my tooth.  Losing a tooth just seems like a downward hill I don't want to slip down.  I mean if I lose one tooth who's to say that I don't end up losing more in the future and end up looking like this guy:

Besides that, what if that is my important candy-chewing tooth and I can't eat M&M's anymore without it.  I just have a lot of apprehension about losing a tooth.

For the most part right now it is about the money.  EVILBOY (who was lucky enough to inherit my soft enamel and his father's stubbornness and facial hair) has surgery booked to do dental work which ended up costing me a left kidney, or just over $380 for those not familiar with organ prices.  I know $380 doesn't sound like much, but to me it is and I would totally sell my left kidney for $380, which is a pretty sweet deal I would think. 



I really don't have a definite answer right now.  So far I have heard that the root canal is not even guaranteed to work and that sometimes it has to be repeated two, sometimes three, times and eventually be pulled anyway.

The way I see it if I get the tooth pulled now, I could always go back and get some sweet grillz later on in life when I become a famous rapper (and grow a sweet mustache!)

On Tuesday night my friends and I went to see Predators.  Normally not my type of movie, but with the only other option being 'Eclipse' for a second time, I gladly accepted the fact that I would be watching Adrien Brody with his humungalo arms saying the F word a lot and blowing up aliens (were they aliens? I don't even know).

While some scenes were quite disturbing, nothing disturbed me more than the mother that decided to bring her (approximately) 3 and 5 year old children to see this movie.  If you haven't seen the movie, you might not think it's that bad, but go ahead to this parental guide for the movie and then tell me how you feel about these small children being there for this film.

Here are a few inappropriate examples:
"A man tells another man when he gets home, he's going to rape a lot of woman. The man makes a joke about it"

"Over 40 f-words and 2-dozen s-words"

 "Stans talks about getting high on cocaine as soon as he's left the planet."

I'm trying my hardest not to be judgmental here, but where did this parent get the idea that taking her two young children to a movie, that was quite obviously advertised as being a 14A gore fest that contained more F-bombs than my mom on a Sunday morning drive.

It made it really hard to focus on the movie.  My mind was all like,
"oh look how perfectly his spine came out all attached to his skull and stuff.  Kind of reminds me of eating shrimp - I WONDER IF THOSE KIDS ARE GOING TO HAVE NIGHTMARES???"

I mean what comes after that?  A midnight showing of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre followed by some brewskis and some bitches?  I just don't understand.  I just can't stop thinking about this.

I am far from a perfect parent.  EVILBOY hangs out with us adult folk sometimes pretty late at night.  Bedtime is usually pretty flexible, but I know the consequences of that so I take full responsibility.  Maybe this parent was okay with her children having nightmares and going to daycare talking about raping women just like I'm okay with my kid waking up in a completely crappy ass attitude because he missed out on a precious half hour of sleep.

Sometimes I let him play video games too long, but I can assure you these games do not involve ripping out someone's spine and committing suicide.  Oh and sometimes, when we are alone in the car, I let him call seagulls "shit hawks" because he thinks its hilarious.  We all make poor choices, my choices are not always the right ones, but I would hope that my decisions do not contaminate his mind with nonsense that adults can shake off as a good flick, but kids see as normalcy.  Then on the other hand, my uncle took me to see Dirty Dancing in the theatre when I was 5 and I turned out to be pretty awesome.

Going along with this theme, when I was 13 my friend and I went to see Ace Ventura Pet Detective at the movie theatre all by ourselves.  Just before the movie started, a theatre employee came and removed us from the theatre for not being old enough to see a guy talk out of his ass - literally.  Instead we went across the street to another theatre to watch Reality Bites where we watched Winona Ryder have sex for two whole hours.  Which totally contaminated my mind for the rest of my teenage years because suddenly I found myself wanting to make out with Ethan Hawke every single day.

Another time, I accidentally took EVILBOY to see Fred Claus because I thought it was a kiddy movie. We are actually still trying to recover from that one.  Now whenever we go to see a movie, EVILBOY asks if there are adults in the movie. 

I'm just so confused by this.  I still don't know if there is anything I should have done.  I feel guilty, but was it really my place to step in and protect these children from what their own mother thought was perfectly normal?  Where do you draw then line when it comes to other people's mistakes in parenting?

Just as the movie ended, and I felt like saying something to the mother, they all came strolling down the aisle, hand-in-hand, smiling and laughing.

and then I realized that the adults of our future are scary little creeps.

Why do we judge each other?

Do we do it to make ourselves feel better?
To make someone feel lower?
Because it makes us feel powerful?
I have judged before and I have been judged.  It hurts.

This morning I was listening to a local radio station morning show where the "DJs" (Ken and Pasqualina) were talking about a story where a tattoo artist proposes to his girlfriend by getting a tattoo.  Unfortunately, this poor fellow was not an English major and had some minor grammar issues.  The tattoo ended up saying "Rachel.  Will you marry me!".  Still, the point comes across just fine, and maybe he was just excited, hence the exclamation.  I thought this was going to be a sweet story until the DJs started ripping this man apart.  They went on to use phrases such as "go back to grade 2 buddy" "tacky" "his family is probably so embarrassed of him". Ken and Pasqualina sounded just like the girl's locker room back in my high school.

I am almost afraid to admit that I thought this was a very romantic idea and I could only dream to meet someone who cared enough to tattoo a marriage proposal on themselves for me.  Who gives anyone the right to judge that by calling this person tacky or stupid.  We wonder why our children are growing up to be bullies and I am sure it is partly because we have moronic buffoons in the media, teaching our children it is okay to judge other people's lives.

I wasn't even  going to write about this, but it simmered in my mind all day.  It made me think of all the times I was judged for many reasons.  Being poor.  Being chubby.  Being the new kid in grade 8 and in grade 12. Not having perfect teeth.  Being shy. These were all blows to my ego and I have never been the same since my terrible teenage years.

I still feel like I am constantly judged, even more so now that I am a single parent. It hurts.  It makes me lose faith in humanity and it also makes me not want to leave the house for a week.

So I bottled it up, which is what I'm really good at doing.  I vowed not to listen to these morons on the radio anymore, it's the best I could do.

Then I sign on to Twitter and see this:
 and it made me angrier.

If someone as talented and beautiful as Crystal Bowersox can't escape being judged, how am I, a nobody who also has not perfect teeth escape being judged, especially by douchebags who obviously have nothing better to do with their time than spray on fake tanner and make fun of young, upcoming artists.

I used to have respect for you Jonathan.  I used to make out with your barbie when I was little, even though it wore the ugliest purple sweater. 

Plus it makes me think of the time when someone said to my step dad "she would be a pretty girl if her teeth weren't fucked up". Why a man needed to comment on my prettiness when I was a teen is beyond me, but it made me never want to smile.

Truth is, I could get my teeth fixed, but I've grown to accept it and I think it adds a bit of character, even though my one crooked tooth is not perfect, the truth is there are far more things I would rather spend thousands of dollars on than fixing one silly little crooked tooth.

and even though I'm not the most confident person and I do have my flaws, the best I can do is live with it and get through each day working up the courage to smile with an open mouth.

So Mr. Knight, I am ashamed I ever made out with your Barbie doll when I was little.  I am ashamed that I followed you on Twitter and I can only hope that your immaturity never influences any of my son's decisions on how to treat other people.