AHHHHHHHH! That's better.

That is much better. I want to thank Andrew Hoshkiw, the author of this template, for making one so much easier to customize than any one I have tried so far. Its called "Bold Lines" and everything is marked well, and easy to follow. I am not sure if he would appreciate me changing it arround, but if you don't tell him neither will I.

I think next time I will try a whole Canadian theme, but right now I think I will quit while I am ahead.

Please pass the dramamine!

This template is making me nauseous. I thought it was cool at first with all the changing colors, but a few of these colors are really getting to me. Time for a change, although I wish it were easier to do that with blogs. And it is if you don't customize your blog at all. That's what I get for being creative.

I am so lame!

Just spent the better part of a day reading blogs. I don't know how healthy that was considering I only proved to myself how lame I am. Some people write in their blogs every single day.

If I did that, I would bore myself to tears. I write in mine when I have something I need to get off my chest. Then if I think it might be interesting, or it makes some kind of sense, I publish it. Usually this means that I blog about once per week. Most of the shit that comes out of my head is just that, shit, and never makes it to print.

When I was 16, my mother bought me a diary for my birthday, I wrote in it every day for about a year.

What made me stop? I went back and read it, that was enough for me. The weird thing is....I still have it, 20 years later. And its still shit. I don't know why I kept it, but I put it in a trunk full of my son's things so he can read it someday.

Maybe someday when he is feeling like an idiot, I will show it to him and say, "Its not your fault son, being an idiot is in your genes."

It's getting down to the wire.

My first and last attempt at planning and executing a bridal shower. The fiasco shower is on Sunday, and I have no idea who is coming for sure or if anyone is bringing any food, (apparently I was supposed to ask people to do so) I don't know if I have enough, chairs, food, cups, plates, napkins, prizes.......the list goes on and on.

This should be a lesson to me.

"Keep your big mouth shut, Evel!"

You see if I had done that...I would be a mere participant in the festivities instead of the organizer. Way back when, Mariea wasn't going to even have a maid of honor, just her daughters standing for her. Apparently she was under the impression that she would have to pay for the maid of honors dress. She was trying to keep expenses down, since she was paying for the wedding herself, so she was going to forgo the maid of honor and best man. And idiotic me (I was reading a wedding book) said " says here that the maid of honor pays for her own dress, shoes etc....." So, she turned around and asked me to stand for her.

All that was going through my head was "I am going to have to buy a new outfit anyway, sure I'll do it". Then a few weeks later (reading the same book) I find out I am in charge of the shower and the bachelorette party. I had already told her I was giving her the invitations as a wedding present, so I was deep out of pocket by this time, add to that the dress, shoes etc, now a shower and bachelorette party. It wouldn't have been so bad, but my car picks this time to break down, not once, but twice. I feel a tension headache coming on. God?....now would be a good time to let me win the lottery.

So, the shower is this Sunday, I am sure Mariea is expecting a lot.........boy is she going to be disappointed. Glad I haven't bought the dress yet, after Sunday, I may not need it.

NOW WHAT?

I let it sneak up on me. The season finales. Now what? All the shows are done, TV is once again a vast wasteland.

Thank God I got a satellite dish this year. I have some hope of seeing original programming over the summer. But what of those poor souls that have only those programs that the networks dole out. I am sure the studios have hundreds and hundreds of pilots sitting around on shelves that they could air. But they don't. They want us so desperately sick of reruns that come fall we will watch just about anything.

And sadly, even though anyone with half a brain knows this is how it works, we don't have the balls to boycott. They have us, we concede.

The hills are alive........with the scent of Pine Sol.

I just finished cleaning my house. If you knew me, this would be cause for concern.

"Is she sick? Is she dying? Am I dying? What have you heard?"

I am a slob. I love being a slob. Ok, its not so much that I love being a slob as it is my love of inactivity.

Don't get me wrong, I like the house when its clean, but I don't feel the need to do it myself. I usually get someone else to do it for me. But once in a very long while, when the house is quiet, like now, I get started and can't stop. It is a satisfying feeling, but not as satisfying as watching someone else do it. Or better still, coming home from work and its already done.

I guess I got inspired when the girl came to do the dishes. She moped the floor and the house was filled with the scent of Pine Sol. Something about that scent makes you want to keep it going as long as possible. Maybe that is why it is that scent, a conspiracy, like the tobacco companies, make the scent addictive so people will keep buying it. I don't know, might be taking it a bit far, it never seems to affect me for too long. I guess I am more addicted to having someone else do it for me.

I might someday kick the smoking habit, but I will never get rid of my addiction to inactivity.

It's night three of my vacation from motherhood.

My son pulled a fit Wednesday night and said he was going to live with his father.....I packed him a bag, called his stepmother and she picked him up Thursday. You don't realize how much you missed the quiet, or how much you have missed being able to sleep in.

My son is gone till Monday night, since there is no school because of the holiday. (For those Yanks reading this, Monday is the queens birthday, kind of like a Presidents day.)

Speaking of school, there was a big hoopla the other day about an eight year old wanting to wear his ceremonial dagger in school. Apparently he went to court over it, saying it was his right because it was part of his religion. He won.

Hmmmmm, kids can't say the lords prayer in school, but this kid can have a knife. Who makes these rules? What the hell are they thinking? I don't see the logic. When they say no religion in school, that means no religion, right? Well seems to me that what they really mean is nothing Catholic in school. (or is the lords prayer just catholic?) I don't know.

Politicians. They seem to make the weirdest decisions. Something as harmless as saying "Our Father", is a huge no no, but carrying something that could take out an eye? No problem. If the rest of the kids can go 6 hours without praying aloud, can't this kid go without the dagger? After all....its ceremonial, and he can't actually do the ceremony in the school.........that would mean he would have to pray. And we all know he could get arrested for that!

When it rains, it pours.

I got the car fixed, that cost me $300. So for the last week my son and I have been living on bread and water. I finally think we might just be comming out of it and my computer decides to stick it to me.

I turned it on tonight and it made some really strange noises......then there was this loud snap from the monitor and a puff of smoke came out the back.

I guess this means I should hold off on buying any lottery tickets.

A change is in the air.

Well I finally changed the layout....hope no one gets freaked out over the changing colors. Took me a few minutes to figure out I wasn't losing my mind. And another hour to figure out how to customize it, and put my links back.

Just a little bit of advice for anyone planning on changing their template......any links you have added to your template will be lost, so 'lets keep it safe out there people' and put a working copy of your old template in notepad or something till you are sure it all works. We would hate to lose all those 'pearls of wisdom'. Parish the thought!

OH! And don't forget to republish your archives with the new format.

To buy or not to buy....that is the question.

The old girl is pretty much toast. I can have it fixed enough to drive but when the inspection is up, it will not pass. So I have to find another ride by the end of the year.

I guess when you have a clunker, you just have to know when to say when. How much is too much to sink into a car. I bought my New Yorker for $1000, and promptly put another $1000 into it in the first two months. Since then I have spent at least $2000 more on repairs in the last two years.

"When"

Now I am contemplating buying my brother-in-laws Explorer. I have always said I wanted a truck, I need a truck.

No one ever 'needs' a car, when they say they 'need' they always follow it with 'truck'. Usually to move or to move something.

Well I need one for the simple fact that I work in "Butt Fuck Nowhere", a small town just outside Middle of Nowhere. It's a dirt road full of rutts and potholes. On that road I have rattled off two mufflers, shocks, struts, and a couple of tierod ends, not to mention a half dozen ball joints.

I 'need' something a little more rugged, or I need to quit my job. Its sort of a catch 22, I need the job to pay for the repairs on the car that my job is directly responsible for. If I quit, I will save my car, but then I wouldn't need a car if I had no job. Come to think of it...I wouldn't be able to afford a car without a job.

So I guess I have to bite the bullet and buy. The problem is...I bought the New Yorker because I though the car I had at the time was on its last legs. I sold it to a kid going to college, he worked on it for a couple of days and that fuckin thing is still running. I saw it last week as I was standing on the street waiting for a drive. This time I will save myself the agrivation, I am selling the New Yorker to a junkyard for scrap.

Sweet revenge!

THE ORDER

I just saw what could quite possibly be the worst Jean-Claude van Damme film ever made. And believe me I have seen them all. I make a point to see them all simply for the gratuitous butt shot that is sure to show up somewhere (however inappropriately) in the film. Well sorry girls, I was thoroughly disappointed. Apart from a couple of fleeting glimpses of bare chest and a chaste peck from the heroine at the end, there was nothing. Not even one of those splits things he seems to work into all of the story lines. Come to think of it, pretty much all his films are stinkers. But I guess I never realized it, I was too busy waiting for and admiring his bare ass.

Since there was nothing to gawk at, I had to rely on the story. Bad idea. Doesn't this man make enough money yet to be able to afford a decent script? I really couldn't tell you what it was about. It was set in Israel, something about some religious fanatics. But beyond that, I am at a loss.

However, I was really surprised to find out that pretty much every living soul in Israel is apparently a karate expert. Ya learn something new everyday. I was expecting machine guns, maybe the odd sword fight, but the karate thing threw me. And how he worked a car chase in with a shitload of camels on the streets was truly amazing.

I can't believe this film made any money for him or the studio.

Take my advice Jean, drop your drawers for the next one. A quick shot of those buns-o-steel and we could care less what the story is about. Ya might make a few bucks next time.

The old girl is down, and quite possibly out.

The "old girl" being my car. If you looked up money pit in the dictionary, you would find a picture of a 1990 silver Chrysler New Yorker, with me standing next to it dressed in a potato sack. So far I have replaced literally every part of her except for the motor and frame. I could list them all but frankly I am embarrassed that I even know the names of some of this stuff. Women rarely know these things unless they own a clunker and spend more time at the mechanics than the beauty parlor, and I might have my membership revoked if I divulged my extensive knowledge of the anatomy of an automobile.

In the continuing saga of the money pit.....our heroine takes a road trip.

I took my son to a doctors appointment on Friday, the doctor is in a town about 40 minutes from here. Afterwards, we decided to go an additional 20 minutes so he can visit his father, not an easy decision since his father lives in the middle of Butt Fuck Nowhere. As we were leaving, I had just pulled out on the road and the "old girl" said, "That's far enough!" The rear end fell off the springs and the car now sits directly on the tires.

His father manages to get the car back into his driveway, where it still sits. Here's my dilemma......how do I get the car back from Butt Fuck Nowhere? Do I pay to have it towed, at a cost of about $200, only to find out it was unfixable? Or do I just set a match to it? And do I do it before or after I slit my wrists?

Decisions, decisions.

Ever wonder how people find you in cyber space? Well I found out.

I have a counter at the bottom of my page from sitemeter.com. It tells you how people found your page, where they surfed from and where they went when they left. Everyone should have one, if only for the amusement value. The most interesting is google searches. What exactly people typed in to come up with your site as a result. I had so much fun with them, I gave them their own place in cyberspace.

You Are Here...

April 30, 2002

SNOW!

I know I harp a lot about snow in this blog.....
but FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!
IT'S THE END OF APRIL ALREADY!!!

I am starting to worry about the planet and what we have done to it as a society.

Ya Right ;-) I could give a rats ass...but I am thinking that this weather might have something to do with this ozone thing everyone is screaming about. I recycle because I have to,(it's the law) but to tell you the truth its half assed. I make sure there is a few blue bags out at the end of the driveway so that the garbage man doesn't suspect that I have cardboard and tin cans in the black ones.

I know I should be concerned about future generations, but unless they find a cure for death, there isn't any hope of me seeing the earth crash into the sun or whatever the doom sayers are predicting this week.

What I am concerned about though is snow...I am sick of snow. The last three days we have had snow.

If April showers bring May flowers, what do April flurries bring?

Horrible dispositions.

You know you are old ...

- when you start looking at a crowded bar as "a definate fire hazzard"

- when you spot kids you used to babysit for in said bar and they are NOT getting carded.

- when you spend an hour planning your TV viewing for the week. (you DO NOT want to miss West Wing)

- when your son spots a record player at a flea market and asks "where do the cd's go?"

- if you can say "its been 20 years since......" unless you can finish that sentence with "I was born".......you are old.

- if you ever start a sentence with "back in my day"....forget it...its over.

- when a handfull of marshmellows is not a suitable subtitute for breakfast anymore.

- when "hopping" out of bed is no longer an option, in fact, if you try, you could really cause some damage.

- when DRUGS = Tylenol

- when you start BBQing as much as humanly possible. Usually from about March to late November.

- when you consider a bra as optional. If you were smart you would have worried about this in your 20's when they were "up there" but now its way too late, they have moved south.....let it go.

- two words.....streatchy pants...nuf said

Ya gotta love instant messaging.

Usually I am invisible on those things...but every once in a while I get bored and turn it on.

Ding, Ding, Ding............three messages, from men....big surprise, telling me that if I like it long and hard to message them back. Cheese and Rice.

I am not kidding you ...this is a message I recieved.

"BigMak wrote:If you like sucking the rock hard dick of a well hung man......" well it went on from there and was pretty tasteless. First of all, you can tell by the way he words it that he is messaging multiple people with the same line. How rude....not only do I get an obsene message, but this guy doesn't even have the decency to write an original obsene message just for me!

I had to know....I just had to know, how that was working out for him. I messaged him back,

"Thats an interesting first comment, how's that working out for ya?"

"So you like what you read? You interested in a private session?" he says

"No, just wondering if that message is giving you any results?" "Does that work for you? I mean, do you get many responses?"

No response.

"I'm seriously interested. I find it facinating that "A" you composed THAT particular message and "B" you may actually get favorable responses from it. I can't imagine the type of women that would recieve that message and say "Oh wow...this guy is a prince....I MUST get to know him"

Still nothing.

"Its a serious question, purely research."

"If you don't want to chat with me.....you can just say so Bitch!"

" I do want to chat....I want to know if this really works, or if you took a shot to see what would happen."

"Fuck off"

Now I am getting pissed.....if a person is brave enough to compose a message like that and mass message it to a large number of females, then he shouldn't be frightened of a little unfavorable response. "Look Buddy, you messaged me."

I think he has put me on ignore now.......so I send his contact number to everyone on my list and get him flooded with messages............Good luck filtering all those messages to find your Cinda-skankin-rella. ;-)

Well I figure I should update regularly....even though I might not have anything earth shattering to relay.

This week I spent finalizing wedding plans with the bride. The dreaded invitations are finally in the can. You see I had the bright idea to make CD invitations and they have been the bane of my existance ever since.

First I made a mock up......with a couple different cd cases, and the bride picked the one she wanted. White - superslim. At that point I proceded to forget which brand that particular one was.

Since then (about 2 months ago) I have been searching in vain for these white slim cases. No one makes them, they only make freaky colors and black. Lots and lots of black ones. Every week I would moan to the bride about how hard it was to find the white cases.

Fianally I had to break it to her that the best I could do was pale blue translucent cases. I took her to the store to show her them and she turns to me and says "If you are going to go blue, why not just use the black ones?" I almost dropped her. I had a fantasy of pulling a ninja move on her right there in the middle of Staples. I said "Are you kidding me?" she looked at me all doe eyed and said "I don't care, it's up to you". I went with the pale blue......I couldn't let all that searching be in vain. I had worked hard to find those blue cases and damb it...I was going to use them.

I will wait till the stagette to take my revenge out on her.

Well the wedding is on.

The wedding is off.

The wedding is back on.

Well the wedding was never "off"...but there was a chance that the bride and groom would JP it and save the unsuspecting public from the torment of having to see me in a dress, hobbling around on high heels. The last time I wore a dress was the last time the bride got married.

AHHHH I was a vision in pink taffeta with a huge burgandy bow slapped on my butt. I would like to say that I mentally blocked out the rest of that fiasco, but I am only in the midst of the long and drawn out process of blocking it out. Maybe it is too soon, after all it was only 16 years ago. I need time to heal. I wish I could get a divorce from my memory like my friend got one from husband number one. That would be cool....some sort of drive thru memory eraser like a drive thru wedding chapel. "Yes, I will have a number one platter.....summer of '86 with a side order of awkward teen years, thanks, keep the change".

Oh well we all have our crosses to bear and it seems mine will be "Maid of Honor". Don't get me wrong, I love the bride, but I am NOT a people person and I was informed that not only would I have to stumble down the isle but I would also have to make a speach. GOOD GRIEF! I feel like stealing one from the net, I have no idea what to say. My friend is a real mushy sort of gal, and I am.........well ........I am not. Maybe I will throw in a mush thing at the end for her.

Oh and did I mention the dress? Well to be fair, I have convinced her to let me wear pants, but I haven't been out of jeans for any occasion since ..........well...........the last wedding. I started out bugging her to let me wear a tux, she wanted a formal floor length gown, we met in the middle.

I am also, as the maid of honor, in charge of the shower and the stagette. For a NON-people person, this is most distressing. I have to call people and schmooze. I can't schmooze, I am not even sure I can spell schmooze. The stagette will be easier, since I plan to get everyone completely shit faced before we even venture out into the world of bars. I have found the most delicious recipe for jello shots, that ought to do it.

I am also in charge of the printed material, invitations, bulletins, reply cards, and with the on again off again status I will have to wait till the last minute to print them. And since I am a firm believer in Murphy's Law, I am expecting the worst.

Oh well, I just hope and pray that this marriage sticks, cuz it is the absolute last time I am doing this. I don't care if she is marrying the pope....I am never wearing heels again.

Sorry Riea, you know I love you but my arches fell years ago.

AHH Spring. In Canada it is what we live for. It is how we measure time. "God, I can't wait till spring", "It feels like spring" "Spring feels like it is just around the corner". When you are Canadian, spring means the end of your misery, spring is better than Christmas. Snow is pretty to watch, but unless you are a skier or a penquin, it gets old really fast. Today was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, ...ok...they weren't singing, they were shitting on my car...but who cares...as long as it isn't snow.

Spring also means Home Show season, and thankfully my boss, in his infinate wisdom, believes that he must participate in every single one. "What does this mean for Evel?" you might ask. Well it means my boss will be GONE, out of my hair, far away from me. A stress free time for me. You see I don't "do" the home shows. I don't know enough about the product to be able to demonstrate it and answer any and all questions put to me. Thank God my boss hasn't connected the fact that I prepare all the promotional material with the knowledge that I might have retained some of that information in the nine years I have worked for the company. And to make sure he never does, I have prepared a few inane questions to ask him about the product. In fact I remind myself to ask one at least once a month, I mark it on my calander. This keeps me safely away from the home shows, and tucked safely in the warmth of my jammies in front of the tv all those weekends while he is drumming up business. Do I feel guilty? Let's just say I don't lose sleep over it.

Spring has sprung, all is right with the world.

You know you are getting old when...

Yesterday I realized that when I conclude a business call I say "Okey Doke"

What is THAT about?

I used to be cool, at least I thought I was. Back in school, I hung around with the "wrong" people, smoked dope, skipped school. I only actually got into 2 fights in my life, but I was told recently by someone I went to high school with, that people assumed I was a scrapper, and that is why no one ever got into it with me. Hey, it worked for me.

So what the hell happened? When did I get old? I don't feel old.....but there it was "Okey Doke". How depressing. It got me thinking......what would I give to be back in high school? NOTHING!

But there was one year that I wouldn't mind revisiting.

I had dumped a long term boyfriend and moved in with my best friend. I was attending community college and she was in hairdressing school. It was basically school, party, sleep (a little) and school.....it was a vicious cycle. Well school for me lasted about as long as it took my student loan to come in, then I found that there wasn't enough hours in the day to fit in all the partying AND go to school....one of them had to go....I picked school. I have to say that that year was the best in my life. Outsiders looking in probably wouldn't agree. The thing is....I was a big slut.

Well slut might be a strong word, but I was basically living the life of a college boy. I was loving it! And after all...guys do it all the time and it is perfectly acceptable. I have never given a shit what people thought of me, so I had nothing to stop me. And mind you this was back in the 80's when it was still safe to sleep arround, well we thought it was anyway. (Did I just say "mind you"?)

Stop me if I start telling the story of how we had to walk 20 miles to school in 5 feet of snow.

Anyway, we were living the life. Booze and Babes. Then one night I decided to have a joint with a friend. It had been a couple of years since I had. Back in the day I could take half a gram of hash on one knife. Well we lit up this hash joint, and waxed nostalgic, and in about 10 minutes I was asleep. WHAT? You heard me....it put me to sleep, out like a light, right there at the kitchen table. I guess it was the end of an era.

Well not long after my friend got married and we moved out of the bachelor pad. I went back to the old boyfriend. And the year of the sluts was over. What would I give to go back there? To the booze and babes? ANYTHING.

But that is not possible ....I just don't have the bone structure for it anymore. Oh well, we all have to grow up and move on........depressing, isn't it?