Showing posts from March, 2010

Paying It Forward

Today's post is a tad out of the ordinary for me. And by that I mean there will be no mention of projectile vomiting, penile implants, anti-zombie guinea pigs, or Joanna, my BFF from the Czech Republic.

No, my friends, today's post is in the interests of helping out a fellow human being, namely a 4th year honours student who is currently working on her honours research paper. She asked me a while back if I would help her out by posting some pertinent questions to my readers in the hopes of getting some answers to questions surrounding the theme of  what the possible impact there is on children's leisure participation if both parents are working. So, basically, your answers will make or break this poor student's year. You don't really have a choice now but to answer them, do you. You're welcome.
Just post your answers to each question in the comments section, and I'll forward them on. And thanks very much for helping out! Look at it as paying it forward, or as…

Earth Ten Minutes And The Rabid Guinea Pig Carnivores

Whoever came up with Earth Hour needs to be blamed for the chaos. And all the deaths, not to mention the rabid chipmunks wandering the streets blindly at 9 p.m. Saturday night. Well, I didn't actually see them, but I know they were out there. I could hear their chatter clearly.
There is something a bit frightening and disconcerting about a neighbourhood that is suddenly silent and dark, when normally windows are lit up, televisions are on, and lives are lived. It's almost like Armageddon has silently passed through, killing everyone in its path. We were living The Road , a book I  recently finished reading, and we were about to get chopped into tiny little bits by cannibalistic people who looked dead but were actually alive, sort of like zombies, but the opposite. I'll call them Anti-Zombies. This was actually going through my mind as I looked out the window, trying to find some light, any light, on our street.
If there's one thing I've noticed about Dee recently, it…

Carl Helps A Girl Out

I had a bad day yesterday. Joanna from the Czech Republic would be happy for me. But then, it turned into being a pretty good day, so maybe Joanna from the Czech Republic would instead be lolling in her very own misery. Hard to say. Maybe I'll put a poll up and you guys can vote.
I slept in until 9 a.m. because I couldn't sleep the night before. I don't know why. I tossed and I turned, and I turned some more, and then I burped and probably even farted a couple of times, but still, no sleep. And then I finally fell asleep and had a dream I was in paramedic school, and I was the youngest one in the class (which is beyond hilarious, unless you're Joanna from the Czech Republic), and then I got lost during the break when I went out into the hallway to get myself a soda, and then I found a washroom, and there were all these tough girls in there, and they gave me a look, and so I hid in a stall and then I woke up and had to pee.
I got up and realized it was late and that my ki…

This Is For You, Joanna From The Czech Republic! Thank You For Your Patronage

Today's post is in honour of a very special person. As you can tell, it's obviously a very special person because here I am posting on a Thursday, which I don't normally do. Sorry for screwing up your routines, guys. But this is important.
Her name is Joanna. Joanna's from the Czech Republic. My site stats told me so. Everyone, say hello to Joanna!
Joanna gets the prize as my first hater! Prize details to follow at the end of this post. I'm still in the midst of putting it together.
This is what Joanna told me the other day in the comments section of one of my posts:
I just found your blog via Warsaw Mommy whose blog, in turn, I clicked on via Finslippy. And, after reading for about 20 minutes, I find myself agreeing with your husband, the everso cutely nicknamed Mr. Handsome. You are not very funny, and frankly you seem like a somewhat unpleasant person who is finghting a lot of petty wars. But you seem to enjoy blogging and have some readers who like your writing, so…

How I Saved The Country

So, as I mentioned very briefly and selflessly the other day, I totally saved a school (and probably the entire country) from definite demise, and I am now waiting patiently by the phone for the city to call and offer me an award or maybe even the Order of Canada because I obviously totally deserve it. Although, I'm pretty sure the city doesn't give out the Order of Canada. Well, they should.
Let me explain.
The other evening, I suddenly became very enthusiastic about going for a walk. Mr. Handsome, Em and Dee looked at me like I had finally gone over the edge (because they know that is totally going to happen, it's not a question of "if", it's a question of "when"), so I had to tone down the enthusiasm a wee bit and repeat myself so that I made it clear that I was totally serious. Then Dee pipes up that he'd love to go for a walk with me, after first getting a small nod from Mr. Handsome that he'd probably be okay going alone with me.
So we ho…

Mr. Handsome And I Don't See Eye To Eye, Or Maybe We Do, But I Wouldn't Know Because I Rarely Know What He's Talking About

So, Mr. Handsome laughs at my blog. And I don't mean in a good way. As in, how you, my faithful readers, laugh at my blog.
Nay. I mean, the odd time he finds it somewhat amusing, but more often than not, his remark is almost -- shall we say -- condescending. And again, I don't mean that in a good way, if there is a good way with being condescending.
In simpler terms:
condescending = not good
For instance, in case you are doubting my statement above, saying, "Nay nay, sweet Mary, your husband would NEVER be condescending toward you and your blog," let me tell you this: he rolled his eyes at my last post, and said, "You're really scraping the bottom of the barrel now, aren't you?" But he really wasn't asking me a question. It was more of an absolute statement, like he was the ultimate god of funniness judgment or something equally as important and strangely unique.
Well, he may think he is, but he's not.
I mean, I probably don't even have to rea…

The Passive Aggressive War Has Begun And Proverbial Fists Are Flyin'

It has begun.
The War To End All Wars.
Yeah. I went there.
Remember this?
Well, it was garbage day again yesterday. Notice the quality of the photo. It was done in the dark of night, as quietly as humanly possible. I was too afraid to go out onto the street to take the same shot as Em had done the week before, lest Her see me, come out and stab me in the eye with her wolverine claws. Hence, the rather poor photo quality.

I have begun screwing with The Neighbours' minds, and it makes me happy to be alive.

So, I told Dee to put the garbage on the OTHER side of our laneway Wednesday night. Yeah, the side that is still our side, but on HER side. Here, I'll show you again, from the other side of the street, in the daylight, so that you understand:
I did this for two reasons.
Reason Number 1: I was testing Her to see if she would once again move our bags over to the other side of the driveway.
Reason Number 2: I was making a point in a passive-aggressive way, which is how I roll, obviously. …

Serendipity Or Imagination, Or How I Wish They Had Just Sent The Cheesy Bread Without All That Begging

I've been thinking a lot over the past week or so about this potential trip to Switzerland with Mr. Handsome. And when I say thinking about it, I mean dreading it. But not in a bad way.
Let me explain. Well, first of all, apparently now we don't know for certain that Mr. Handsome is going any longer. It's called government budget cutbacks, yo. He said he should know by the end of the week. Stupid government people.
But if he gets the go ahead, I then have to figure out what to do. Because although I know I've said before that I've never been to Switzerland and would love to go to the land of the hosen, good beer and dark chocolate, I also now know about the Al Qaeda.
Call me crazy. Why not? Most people do. Thing is, we've already seen them in action just last weekend with the pizza delivery WITHOUT THE CHEESY BREAD, so god only knows what else they could do. They're obviously VERY serious and mean business. It's spooking me out, guys, and I think I may need…

The Al Qaeda Deliver Pizza Here, And Men Don't Know How To Have Fun (Updated!)

You'll all be very happy to know that there is no mention in today's post of my awesome neighbours! Can I hear a hooray for small miracles?! Amen. And you're welcome.
Mr. Handsome went away for the weekend, leaving me and the kids alone.all.weekend.long. Yeah. Guess I could end the post right here.
But I won't.
Mr. Handsome gets invited to this "all men's" weekend every spring at his sister's husband's cottage up in the Muskokas, and of course, he goes. Very thoughtless of him, if you ask me. And gender biased. Anyway, it sounds extremely boring because I asked him what exactly all the guys do up there for three days, and he looked at me like I was the stupid one, and said, "Poker." So I said, "You play poker for three days straight?" and he said, "Yeah," as if it was a totally normal and not obscene and very boring thing to do.
And then he added, as an afterthought, "Well, we intersperse it with some x-box," li…

I Obviously Have No Life, But I Still Have More Of A Life Than Mrs. Snooty McSnooterpants

Today's post is brought to you by my favourite neighbours. Thank you for supporting my site, assholes.
Today's post was actually going to be about something totally different, maybe about how it sure feels like spring around here, which is like a month early. I even saw a few flies outside the other day, which made me do a triple take while driving around town, and I almost drove into the postman who was probably in the middle of the road, so it wasn't even my fault. Whatever.
So, back to my scintillating post of today.
But before I do, I just wanted to apologize in advance for YET ANOTHER FREAKING POST ABOUT THE NEIGHBOURS. I clearly cannot help it. It's beyond my control. It's become an addiction of sorts, I'm starting to think. I might have to get help. And here is where Mr. Handsome would say, "Might?"
So, like I think I was saying, the neighbours. Here I was, minding my own business (because that's what I do), and I happened to look out the windo…