Parental Units

This past weekend I stepped away from the computer to visit my parents. Growing up, I never wondered if I was different, for I always knew. My parents are beyond eccentric and I never doubted where I got the "weirdness" from. I drove the three and a half hours up into the B.C mountains to see them. The drive is always gorgeous, but it isn't the only thing I love about my parents place. Here are a few of my favorite things:


The reservoir. It truly is breathtaking to look at. No matter if it is winter and ice cloaks the fish underneath or summer with the muskrats go swimming in it, it is wonderful to lay my eyes upon. The res takes up a lot of my parents' property, but it is one of the best parts of it:



The happy face my mother has painted on their water well. There is something about it that always makes me smile:


Random gifts. This time I made off with gunpowder tea, a tea ball, a book about the life and times of Adolf Hitler, and this owl trivet (which I simply adore):
Random boat pictures around their house. This is one of them, though it certainly isn't the ONLY one:


This face at the dinner table. This is Mitsy and one of the four Barkowskis. Noisy? Yes. Adorable? Oh my, you wouldn't even believe it:
Bread. My mom made me this bread, by hand! Not that bread machine stuff, and it had raisins and seeds and flax and everything in it. Tasty.:

Pornography In The Park

Very little in life disturbs me. I figure to each their own and if it isn't hurting anyone or thing, so be it. Live and let live.

One thing that does disturb me is the gentleman in my neighborhood who thinks it is acceptable to read pornography at the park. We have this expanse of land across the street from our condo and it is here that I have seen a man sitting on the bench reading pornography. Children play here, people walk their dogs here, and this gentleman jerks off here.

What the fuck?

I will be frank with you, I do believe he is mentally challenged. And so, I haven't beaten him to a pulp. I mean he has to be mentally challenged, right? I don't think any person in a fully functioning frame of mind would think this is OK. It is not ok!

I fear I am going to have to say something to him.

What the hell is this world coming to?

Just Another Day Around The Office

I work in an office. There are ups and downs to this. Ups: some cool people, free tampons, my own work space, listening to my MP3 all day and not having anyone really bug me. Downs: sitting on my arse all day, listening to some of the office banter, staring out the window on gorgeous days like today. Hey, at least I have a window seat.

That said, there is something that bothers me immensely about my place of employment. People bring treats in and put them on the filing cabinet. They call this place, where the treats go, the "Usual Spot". This annoys me. Not sure why, it just does.

Well, often if you wander in you will find donuts, chocolates, candy, cookies in this spot. I can never eat any of it and I walk on past without a second thought. This morning I go waltzing past the "Usual Spot" to grab something from the printer and do you want to know what is sitting on the cabinets for everyone to share? Corn Pops.

Yep. Corn Pops. And not a big box of Corn Pops, nope, a single serving container of Corn Pops. Needless to say, I had to stop and check this out. I mean, come on! And low and behold, the Corn Pops were open and some of them were eaten. Wow. Just, WOW.

And thus commences another fun filled day at the office.

Things That Make Me Physically Uncomfortable

Certain things in life make me uncomfortable, perhaps irrationally uncomfortable.
While Maria Von Trapp sang about a few of her favorite things, here are a few of the things that make me cringes.

1. Hoarders and the act of hoarding: This makes me cringe. The idea of someone simply having mounds of stuff makes my skin crawl. I feel claustrophobic and sick to my stomach. And then people wonder why I go on culling binges and pitch unnecessary junk from my home. When I see the show hoarders I want to cry.

2. Clipping Nails: Not too sure what it is about this one, oh yeah...the sound. When I hear the sound and think about that remnant of nail flying through the air, I just *shudder*. It seriously makes me want to wretch.

3. Pregnancy: Don't get me wrong. Babies are awesome, pregnant women rule! But there is something about the idea of a living being growing inside a person that freaks me out. Sort of reminds me of something alien. My friend is pregnant and there is this little chart that tells you the changes your baby is going through. And I'm sorry, but knowing the baby is growing nails today gives me the willies. I try not to think about it too much.

4. Breaking Teeth: I have dreams about my teeth breaking, shattering and falling out all the time. The idea of having my teeth fall out makes me anxious. I feel like jumping out of my skin, just typing this makes me uncomfortable.

5. Airplanes: I don't like them. They make me nervous. It isn't natural. I don't hyperventilate, I don't need medication to fly on them, but still...they freak me out. Yeah, yeah, I know all the statistics, it is highly unlikely...blah blah blah.

6. Eating Disorders: I don't get them and they make me uncomfortable. I do not like seeing people dictating who they are by what they eat. Calorie counters make me agitated and knowing they are secretly calculating the amount I am eating gives me the creeps. Seeing really skinny people irks me, I do not think it normal to be able to see someones spine. Have you ever seen the Machinist? This makes me very, very uncomfortable: *cringes*

7. People: I hate being in large groups. The thought of crowds makes me want to curl up in my bed and clench my eyes shut. I think, and this is just personal speculation, crowds make me uncomfortable because I can't control them. If a fight were suddenly to break out, I wouldn't be able to calm the situation and if they started flee I wouldn't be able to stop them from trampling people to death.

8. Stupidity: Which really means people, right? Ignorance and selfishness are also linked to this. Why can't people think beyond their own backyard?

9. Ridiculous shoes: When I see shoes like this:EEEEK! It makes me want to cut their feet off so they wouldn't do this to their toes anymore.

10. Bukkake: Seriously, this freaks me out like you wouldn't believe, and by freaks out, I mean disgusts.

Now I am uber uncomfortable, to the point where I have to finish this blog, close the browser window and rock myself for a short while.

Made Me Laugh

At work I decided to send an email to all my closest comrades to share with them the new emoti-smiley-con-thing i learned how to do.
,___,
(O,o)
/)__)
^ ^
Fancy huh?!

Well this is the email I get back from Christene:

Trying New Things

Not too long ago, I took it upon myself to try something new. I tried the kiwiberry, which was actually really enjoyable. So then, today, I opted to try out a Grapple. Do you know what a Grapple is? Well, it is an apple that tastes and smells like grape. Apparently the grape flavor is put into the apple through a relaxing bath. No, I am not joking.

Read about it here: http://www.grapplefruits.com/process.html

I was apprehensive about trying it, but oddly enough, it wasn't that bad. It smelled more grapey than it tasted. Actually, my bag still smells like grapes. And not real grapes, which don't have much of a smell, but grape Popsicle grape. As the story goes, grape was always my favorite Popsicle.
Should you try these? yes, I think you should. It is always good to try new things.

Breaking News

While Leppy and I were driving to work this morning we heard the BREAKING NEWS.

Corey Haim died.

You know who I feel bad for?

Corey Feldman.

It's like he lost his shadow. There will be no more The Coreys in pictures. It will only be Corey. How sad?

I was always a Feldman girl growing up. Something about him just...spoke to me.

It's sad that Haim died, but how many people are going to say, "I saw that coming." And it's true, the world did see it coming. Drugs. Don't do them. They kill you.

I wonder how many people had him on their deadpool lists.

When I die, I don't want people to say, "I saw that coming." I want it to be a grand surprise. When you see someones death coming it is just sadder for some reason. Like no one stepped in to prevent it. This was the first time I'd witnessed breaking news. It was a weird experience. I hope I don't become a breaking news junkie.

Hidden Gem

This weekend was a big clean up weekend. Spring cleaning or something like that. I tossed stuff, stuff that had been in boxes since I moved in. Junk collecting in drawers. There were some things I even forgot I had. But then, I stumbled upon a sweet hidden gem. In a bottom of this weird plastic Barbie bag, buried under treasures of my youth (which I threw away), I found a glass ashtray. Now, I don't smoke. Never have, nope not even a puff of a cigarette, but still this ashtray was the best thing I had seen all week. On the bottom of the ashtray it said, "Property Of Bates Motel" and a bloody red thumbprint beside it. If this isn't cool, I don't know what is. Feel free to be jealous of my ashtray.

Left Wrist, Right Wrist

Here they are, in all their line drawing glory.

A Song From My Youth

As a child I was odd. I know this might come as a surprise since as an adult I am the epitome of normal. (insert laughter here) I never thought I belonged in this era, I thought for certain I was supposed to be in the fifties and sixties. I wanted to drive a Ford Thunderbird. I wanted to wear petal pushers and horn-rimmed glasses. I wanted to sit at a soda shop sipping a milkshake and doing the twist. I wanted to pay 5 cents for a chocolate bar and use phrases like 'that's boss' and 'lay a patch.

I submerged myself into the decade, watching movies that depicted the fifties and only reading books that referenced the decades I thought I belonged in. I even managed to beg my father to get me a Jukebox. Each weekend I would take my hard earned allowance and head on down to JukeBox Junction where I would buy a couple 45's.

Some of the classics that frequented my playlist?
Running Bear, Runaway, Sherry, Last Kiss. I mean there were a ton. My love of this sort of music started young. And it still hasn't died. I stumbled upon a great one at work today whilst listening to my Zune. I will share it with you below.

As for whether or not I belong in this era? I don't. This world is too harsh for me, I long for simpler times. Unfortunately, the Doc hasn't perfected the Delorean which will take me back to 1956, so until that time, you all have to live with me.

Take It Up With My Mother

The other night I returned a call from my parents. My mother answered. It was nearing eleven, so I figured I would get in a quick, "hi, how's it going?, give the dog and cat a pat, goodnight" conversation. As it turns out, it wasn't so.

There were the usual exchanges of pleasantries. How's work? How's writing? How's your love life? Okay, she didn't ask about my love life, but it wouldn't have surprised me if she had.
The conversation took on a life of its own and ended up stretching into nearly an hour. We got on the subject of how much we don't like humans. I expressed to her my feelings that humans are using what isn't theirs, the earth. We abuse the planet then wonder why it's in the state it is in.
She feels the same way.

We bashed humans for awhile. Griped about how people aren't actually in the know of what is going on in their own backyards. We discussed how B.C is falling behind their provincial brothers. (As in the fact that our standard of living is high and yet we still have the lowest minimum wage, why is it less than Newfoundland?) We talked about how people eat meat because it was the way they were raised. Many people grew up thinking meat on a plate was a sign of being stable. And we yammered on about how people disassociate themselves away from the fact that what is on their plate isn't a brother to one of those cute-ass tea-cup pigs. The final point was how we don't want to live around people, being alone seems like the only way to survive.

There is nothing better than these sweet little chats with my mother to put the world into perspective. :o(

After I hung up the phone, I thought, shit-I am my mother's daughter.
So if you don't like my disenchanted, skeptical, cynical, some-what grumpy view of the world, take it up with my mother.

I'm Just So Tired

Lack of sleep has made me cranky today. Usually it doesn't catch up until Thursday or Friday.

I think it's funny when people say they are insomniacs. Usually they aren't, when they go to bed, they are out like a light. Not me. I toss and turn, kick the blankets, get up, move around and wake up ever half hour without fail. It is a standard pattern I have.

Sunday to Friday I function on less than four hours of tossing turning sleep. Friday I am so fucking drained that I can't fathom going out, so I hang out at home. Usually I drop like a ton of bricks on Friday night, cram a solid eight hours of sleep in, because my body refuses to function anymore. Then it starts again.

I would say, of the fifty-six to seventy hours I am supposed to sleep, I get maybe thirty two. Don't forget twenty-four of those are filled with tossing and turning.

I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. I'm just really tired. And grumpy.

I can't help it.

Boyfriend Stealer

Leppy and I were conversing in the car this morning. We discussed our weekends, the ups and downs of house buying, shit disturbers and the ending ceremony of the Vancouver 2010 Olympics. We both agreed that Michael J Fox is the cutest thing in the world and that we both like Catherine O'Hara. Then we moved along to the musical portion of the evening. If you didn't catch it, well you didn't miss anything. This is the music we chose to represent Canada? Great! I know they were going for popular bands, but COME ON! They could have had Arcade Fire and K'Naan if they wanted popular. Instead, they went with Nickleback and Avril Lavigne.

Leppy decided to go on a mini-rant about Avril. She sang a few of her tunes, cursed the stupidity of them and scoffed in general at her appearance. Then she proceeded to say, "I don't like her boyfriend stealing ways." It is clear Leppy doesn't appreciate girls who sing about stealing others boyfriends. She sited other examples, pop music I know nothing about, and I sang the wrong lyrics to the song that goes, "She wears short skirts I wear t-shirts." I have no idea what song it is, but it is fucking annoying.

To cap our car ride off, Leppy turns to me and says, "There is only one boyfriend stealer I like, and that's you. Because it worked out in my favor."

If you didn't know, Leppy and my friendship is built on a break-up. She wanted to side with her ex friend but couldn't resist my charms. And now we are like two fucking peas in a mother fucking pod. I don't like boyfriend stealers either, but they are necessary for the game. At least I didn't write a song about my stealing ways. That's just salt in the wound. You would think after four years you would cease being a boyfriend stealer, but I suspect I will have that tag for the rest of my life.

Bleeding Heart

I have a bleeding heart for animals. I blame my parents. I grew up surrounded by pets. Iguanas, bunnies, guinea pigs, dogs, hamsters, birds. You name, we had it. My first dog was this Great Dane cross, his name was Patches. That dog was my best friend up until I was seventeen and he died. I can't count the number of hours I spent talking to him.

It started at a young age and never let up. When I was in grade 12 I read this book called Animal Liberation. The atrocities the animals went through in factory farming horrified me and I gave up meat. Actually, I gave up everything and turned vegan. I haven't turned back, haven't regretted my decision in the least.

And now? I find myself growing angry over the state of the world. As a species we are so gluttonous and ignorant. I get it. I understand it. We disassociate ourselves from what goes on. That chicken burger isn't one of these chickens:
http://www.vegetarismus.ch/bilder/img/chicken_b_022.jpg

That steak isn't this cow:
http://wholebeef.com/imgs/CattleRestrainedForSlaughter.jpg

(By the way, that cow above is slaughtered in a factory farm that kills a cow every 43 seconds.)

I get. Oh, I get it.

Alright so we do this to survive, that's your argument right. God said, so therefore it is ours. To treat however we want? To abuse? To torture?

I see these articles and news clips about animals and I get all emotional. I can't help it. Am I the only one who feels like we've invaded their territory and used it up? Greed breeds greed. And I don't think this is our land to abuse like we do.

So okay, you feel it is your right to eat them. What about the circus? What about the zoo? What about clothes out of fur? What about trophy hunters?

We took a trip down to Oregon and Washington and when we stopped at the convenience stores along the way in the little out of the way towns there were these photos of hunters with their kills. Way to celebrate taking a life. One picture was of a fat woman holding a bear head in the air like it was a fucking gold trophy. Nice prize. I get so angry and long to watch these people get mauled by bears.

We're such assholes. Humans that is. What is wrong with us?

I have a bleeding heart, it just so happens it doesn't extend to humankind.