Posts

Showing posts from 2011

Just call me a dwarf

I realize it's been almost a month since I last posted, which is a record, guys. I also have continued getting paid for my blog, which just makes me feel kind of crazy happy instead of guilty, because I'm an awful human being. So, what have I been doing all this time while you've continued checking this blog, wondering if I've posted today, and then finding out that, once again, I haven't, and then you think about maybe emailing me to find out if I'm okay, but you don't because you end up forgetting, which would pretty much be the story of my life.  Anyway, this is what I've done this past month, shortened for your reading ease: Worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, started Grade 12 Chemistry, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, worked, w

R.I.P.

I was going to entertain you today with stories of me falling off chairs,,  getting stuck in a bathroom stall in the dark and having my head compared to a pimple. But not today. Today, I'm going to talk about a man. A man who had a great impact on my life, and on many others. Ian was my boss, in charge of making sure everything ran smoothly in our real estate office. He was the reason I went to work there back in 2005. He was the reason I stayed there. He was supportive, and kind, and gentle, and fearless. Ian passed away last Saturday after a four-year battle with cancer.  The entire office, the one I just returned to after a two-year absence, is in shock and a state of utter despair. Because Ian was a man who meant what he said and said what he meant, who always had nothing but wonderful things to say about everything (including how he felt, even when he felt like utter crap), and about everyone he met. Ian and I had more of a relationship than just manager and realtor. We

I am old, and there's nothing more to say

Although I have often spoken about feeling about a million years old these past few years, I honestly know what it actually feels like now, and I can also now honestly say that I AM OLD. Now excuse me while I sob into my fifth gin and tonic of the morning. So, I worked at my new library job last week, full days both Thursday and Saturday. The job basically entails a lot of shelving of books, moving of books, and not thinking too much about anything except barcodes, the Dewey Decimal system, and whether 906.1782346879 BLS comes before or after WHO GIVES A CRAP. You can pretty much say the job is a little mind numbing, but only in a good way. Seriously, though, libraries all over the world owe everything to pages (which is what my official title is, which is also a little funny because I'm a page at a library -- get it?). Without us, books and magazines would be strewn pell mell throughout the library, reference books on Floor 1 instead of Floor 3, and (god forbid) mysteries sho

Anyone need a job picking my nose? Apply herein

So, I got another call from Adonis yesterday, telling me his office has blocked my blog so that he can no longer read it while he sits at his desk pretending to work. I feel sorry for you, Adonis. Really, I do. And then I felt kind of proud that they felt it necessary to block my blog. I should probably get an award for that because, in my opinion, this is a HUGE success! Who doesn't want to be blocked by the federal government?! And then Adonis told me I should email him my posts, or type them out in Microsoft Word and email them to him so that he can read them at work instead of doing his job.  I told him I didn't have time for that, and Adonis laughed at me because he knew I had tons of time. But alas, I no longer have the time to even scratch my left buttock crease because, guys, I start my library job today, and I am still doing my biology course, which is a hell of a lot harder than my biology course last year, which is kind of making me freak out a little bit becau

Electrode hickeys

I thought I'd better post another post lest Adonis call me and spit wrathfully at me again for not posting often enough. Brothers. Is "wrathfully" a word? Not sure. Don't care. So, I'm sitting here, at the dining room table, and writing this instead of studying crap senior biology. Do you blame me? Didn't think so. I'm also scratching just above my right nipple, where one of my heart monitor's electrodes has left a rather nasty allergic reaction, not unlike a really large and ugly hickey. So unfortunate that it's not a hickey. I miss those days. Not that I'd really know what I'm talking about, because I'm pretty much a virgin. And not that hickeys are even itchy and all raised, like a hive might be, so maybe I should have started out by calling it a really huge and nasty hive instead of a hickey, but if I had done that, you probably wouldn't still be reading this right now. Am I right? I'm also trying to not feel guilty for

Updates coming out the yazoo and every other orifice you might or might not have

So, my brother Adonis called me today, telling me I wasn't updating my blog enough and he felt he was losing touch with me, his only sister whom he loves more than life itself, and I then wanted to say well then why don't you pick up the damn phone and call me, but I didn't say that because it would sound kind of rude, and I am never rude to people, animals or even rocks, because rocks have rights too, guys. I'm not really sure what Adonis meant by his pronouncement that I don't update my blog enough. I mean, I know I don't update it as often as I used to (before school happened, and since my life as I once knew it fell apart and I died and went to hell), but still, I can't just be expected to update this thing every single day, can I? Just in the hopes that someone is actually reading it, and actually cares what they're reading? As it stands, half of what I say here is pure bullshit anyway, so there you go. However, I suppose I should be quite honou

Nurse! Nurse! I need my nail clippers!

So, guys, I just applied to three nursing programs in the hopes of getting into one of them for the fall. Nursing is what I've decided to go for, now that my career as a paramedic has most probably ended before it even began, sort of like the egg coming before the chicken, which can only happen to me. I came to the decision a little while back that nursing was probably a better career for me than paramedic. This, after thinking everything through carefully, and trying not to get emotional about it. Not getting emotional has been getting easier as time's gone on. Pretty soon my ears will get all pointy and people will start calling me Dr. Spock. Ha. Ha. Meanwhile, I'm starting a Grade 12 Biology course through distance education, which is so exciting I can hardly contain the urge to scream. Yeah, it's THAT good, guys. Actually, it's not bad because I'm pretty sure a large percentage of it is more or less a repetition of what I just took in my anatomy/physiol

Illness abounds

Things are going oh so smoothly here on the ranch. NOT. So far this week (and it's only Wednesday, I think), we have one sick boy at home with what seems to be a bad virus that has so far attacked his abdominal region, his throat, his chest, and his joy for life. Dee is sad and sick. We also have a sick Em, who isn't quite as ill as Dee because she is still able to go to school and get things done, but who has been sick with a cough/cold thing since about Christmas time. Apparently there's a "thing" going around these here parts, creating havoc with waay too many people, most of whom seem to be in my house. I have as yet to get sick, which is, in itself, a true miracle because I am usually the one who gets sick approximately thrice a week. I've been feeling a bit under the weather, but haven't really succumbed to any awful crap. Yet. Although, now that I think of it, I am on antibiotics for a sinus infection, but I can't say it's awful,

Coffee tables have many uses. Obviously.

Image
This past weekend was extremely eventful. Not only did we vacuum the living room rug, but we also got up the courage to remove the guinea pig cage (which was homemade and awesome, and which sat on our old coffee table, which we hadn't used as a coffee table since Em was born because we are anal in that way and decided that we would rather not have a coffee table for a thousand years than have our tiny little vulnerable and perfect children knock their little heads on a corner and end up in the emergency room getting stitches). As you who read this sensational blog will know, our last guinea pig, Mo, passed away last week, on Mr. Handsome's birthday. You could say it put a bit of a pall on festivities. ANYWAY, the piggies lived on our coffee table for the past seven years. The table had been put in a corner of the dining room so that the piggies would be near us, because guinea pigs are very social animals, and we're nothing if we aren't extremely sensitive to the nee

It's like this

Here I am, back again for yet another dreary and depressing entry into what is known as my amazingly exciting life. Believe you me, all I tell you is true. I am not making anything up. And I totally understand your feelings of envy, wishing you could be me. But, I'm here to tell you, you can't. It's not easy to be me, and this is why: 7 a.m. I open my eyes. I can hear both kids as they get themselves ready for school. Yes, that's right. They actually get up BY THEMSELVES and get their own breakfast, brush their own teeth, and head out the door for school ON TIME, without nary a blink from their mother. I have clearly trained them well. I close my eyes again because the kids obviously don't need (or probably even want) me around. That way, they can get away without brushing their teeth, can take an extra three helpings of snacks for their lunches, and not have to deal with my fetid morning breath. 8 a.m. Mr.Handsome begins rousing. 10 a.m. Mr. Handsome actually

Things can only get better. Right?

Image
Oh, hello there. Me again. Still depressed. Still feeling like Life has crashed into me head-on and run over me about eleventy-million times. Which it kind of has. Still have heard nada from anyone at the school. They're all ignoring me, guys. It's like they hate me or, even worse, don't care. Not a nice feeling, either way. With classes starting today, I'm a bit anxious to get this stuff figured out so that I know where I stand. Meanwhile, I spent the better part of last week making phone calls and trying to find the right people to talk to, so that I could better figure out my options. So far, my options are limited ... as in, I could just lie in bed until September and it wouldn't matter, except that my kids might start wondering where I was. Maybe. So far, what I know is that I will be applying to enter the four-year university nursing program, and the two-year practical nursing program, and re-applying for the paramedic program. What I still don't know

Merry Deep Hole of Depression, everyone! Oh, and a really adequate new year, too.

Image
Oh. Hello there. Why, yes, I'm still alive. Thank you for asking. At least, I think I am. Just a second. Yup. I'm alive. But just barely. Lots has happened since I last wrote on Dec. 16, which is almost two Oh weeks ago, which is a lifetime in the world of the blog. And when I last wrote (on Dec. 16), I was getting all ready for a nice big Christmas holiday, which I so badly needed. Firstly, I should have known I was totally jinxing myself by writing that. And secondly, I got what I asked for, and then some. Boy, did I ever. And, before I go on, can I say that I've missed you, and hope you still remember me??? So, when I last wrote, I had one more exam to do, which was my lab exam. As well, I had one lift to accomplish before I could heave a heavy sigh and forget about body parts for at least a week. Well, as luck may have it (and by luck I mean the kind of luck that makes you want to twist your underwear in a knot and stuff them into your throat, because that wou