I woke up with wild grey hairs in my eyebrows but after a scowl and a pluck they were gone and I really didn’t feel much different. The thing that struck me the most was that the time between 14 and forty goes by so quickly. It seems like yesterday that I was forgoing Saturday morning cartoons to lay in bed and fantasize that I was on white sand beach making love with Jon Bon Jovi. I was fourteen so I knew nothing of love or sex and even in my fantasies it was mostly rolling around on the sand slobbering in each others mouths and telling each other how hot we were and that our hair was fantastic. So technically not much different then my twenties except at twenty I was mature enough to know that sand up your ass is not sexy.
I think the days go quicker the older you get as well. It is almost impossible for me to think all the thoughts I want to think, and take all the naps I want to take and still manage to do all the things I planned on doing the day before but put off until today and now they may have to wait until tomorrow. I plugged my wax in three days ago and have yet to wax my brows so instead I took a pair of Dollarama scissors and cut my bangs off so that they fall across my eyebrows and what is happening there is now a mystery!
My Dollarama scissor haircut that covers up my greying eyebrows
This evening I brought a bottle of wine and a glass to the table. An hour later the wine remained unopened and the glass empty. Never in a million years did I think that wine would be one of those things I “didn’t get around too”
I applied for a job tonight. It’s funny because I wasn’t even looking for a job exactly and then all the sudden my dream job jumped out of the computer screen and landed on my lap seductively and stroked my face. My heart skipped a beat. I knew that technically we were not right for each other. It was a downtown job, I am an uptown girl. It’s champagne and caviar, I’m cheap red wine and Black Diamond cheese. What I am trying to get across is that there will be candidates with better “paper” qualifications then me but in the real world of experience trumps diploma I would kick the ass off this job. If they were smart they would come to my door with gifts of Lindor Chocolate Truffles and Liquor Depot gift certificates and beg me to take this job. It would be an Affair to Remember! So I realize it is a long shot but I put my hat in the race. You can’t lose something you never had so certainly no harm was done. I honestly haven’t felt passionately about a job in a very long time. I have always taken pride in my work but besides my Volunteer work that I am unquestionably committed to and get a great deal of personal reward from I can’t remember the last time I felt like I could imagine myself waking up and doing the same thing everyday. My respect to those of you who have worked hard to achieve your goals and do a job you love everyday, it is rare!
So forty rolled in pretty quietly for me. It was a Wednesday so no all night party, no jaggermeister shots and swinging from the chandelier but it was exactly what I needed. I had a quiet dinner and shared some laughs with a wonderful friend. We then went to the late show to see American Hustle. Ten Academy Award nominations and I kid you not we had the entire theatre to ourselves. We had our shoes kicked off and our feet up. There was a part in the movie when Bradley Cooper and Amy Adams go disco dancing so we got on our feet and had our very own disco party, so fun. I should mention that my friend is 37.5 weeks pregnant and she sure can bust a move.
American Hustle is set in the 70s, the movie is colorful and layered. The characters are complex and beautiful. Hair was big, bras were non-existent and though there really wasn’t any sex, the hint of it was enough and there were a couple of times when I wanted to scream “DO IT!! The movie explored relationships, consequences, ego, heart and the conflict between right and wrong. It was portrayed so eloquently that there were times I struggled in my own mind to decide what was right and what was wrong and was it really so black and white. The movie really studied the rhythms of the characters and showed you what people are capable of when their lives are in shambles. A line at the end of the movie spoken by Christian Bale (who reminded me of my dear Dad back in the 70s) stuck with me….
Hubby and I met friends the other night at a local pub to play pool and as is usual for me, one drink goes in two come out. I.P. Frequently is my pet name! I was sitting in the stall and a woman entered the one beside me and sat down with a thud. She was peeing almost immediately, before her ass even touched the crapper seat and letting out long-winded, uncontrollable pee farts. I snickered loudly and when I realized I hadn’t done so in my head I felt bad and didn’t want to embarrass the mad pee farter so I pretended to be laughing at a conversation I was having on my phone. I know, I know, I am juvenile, faking a conversation was even more mature than the actual loud snickering but farts are funny, especially after you add a double vodka to a stressful week.
I was recounting the story to my husband and he asked if I had Poop shoes when I worked at the Soccer Centre. I laughed, asked him to repeat and then laughed again at his hilarious explanation. I had never heard of Poop Shoes. Apparently I have been out of the “office culture” loop for too long!
URBAN DICTIONARY
poop shoes
the pair of shoes you put on when taking a dump at the office, so no one can identify you under the stall.
matt: who blew up the handicap stall on 5, bro?
rey: it was me, bro!
matt: nah, dude was wearing neon dunks, bro.
rey: yo! them’s my poop shoes, bro!
matt and rey: ahhhhhhhhhh. yea, bro!
by pied pooper July 19, 2011
Apparently this Poop shoe thing is a big deal and may in fact have been stared by the great one herself Oprah Winfrey!
Oprah Winfrey > Quotes > Quotable Quote
Oprah Winfrey
“I have a special pair of poop shoes under my desk. Whenever I need to drop a deuce, I slip them on and scurry to the restroom, and no one ever knows it’s me. Like, if I’m wearing Louboutins that day, and my producer sees Earth shoes in the stall….well, you get the idea. It was truly a lightbulb moment when that came to me.”
― Oprah Winfrey
It got me wondering how many people actually do this? What kind of shoes do they use? How often do they switch out their poop shoes? Are they nice shoes or “shitty ones” excuse the pun?
I can imagine women everywhere sneaking their Poop Shoes into their purse, clenching their butt cheeks and taking quick but careful steps to the bathroom to release the Poop Storm!
In defence of Poop Shoe users everywhere when I worked at the Soccer Centre I had about 30 bathrooms to choose from so it wasn’t necessary for anyone to know how regular my bowel movements were or were not! I always had extra shoes in my office though, for whatever need might arise so had I needed them I would have been covered.
Always looking for the perfect get rich quick scheme I decided to market my own line of “Poop Shoes”
“C’mon ladies, Jimmy Poo shoe Party Anyone?”
“If you feel a rainstorm coming on you grab an umbrella, if you feel a shit-storm coming on you grab your poop shoes” -Michelle DeBay
I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and rang in a rockin New Year with those you love. My Christmas was very quiet, spent just with family. I had a couple of moments where I was very homesick for our family and friends in Nova Scotia, especially upon hearing some bad news from home but when I take a second to reflect I am always reminded of how incredibly blessed I am.
I have been absentee on here throughout the holidays to give my family my full attention. We have basically been hibernating. Late nights, late mornings, lots of movies, board games, card games. A whole bunch of togetherness!! Just the act of providing my family with three meals a day, cleaning up after those meals and laundering my families clothes seems to take up a great deal of time. The sleeping in may sound blissful but truthfully I am just trying desperately to sneak some shut eye in in between fighting for blankets and bed space. With hubby working away most of the time we are both very used to sleeping on our own. Most of the year we spend four solid days together at best and then he is gone for ten. Both of us are very used to our own space. I feel I adapt fairly well and respectfully to the addition of the extra body in my bed but it has been over three weeks now and in the wee hours of the morning while the moon hung low and the sun had not yet kissed the winter sky I woke to shots in the rib. I have no idea what my husband was dreaming of but he was lightly punching me in the ribs. I managed to roll him over but woke awhile later to an elbow in my face. He was spread eagled with his arms behind his head like he was lazily tanning on a beach hammock. He looked so adorably relaxed I settled myself onto a very small fraction of the bed, hugging the side so that I didn’t fall off. I dozed off once again and woke freezing. Hubby had all of the blankets wrapped around him tight and was snuggled in like a mummy. This is how I have been sleeping for weeks, here and there!
I came down the stairs to make coffee the other morning and found soil from my Mandevilla Vine all over the floor. It has started to dry up recently and I caught my cat in getting in it one day right in front of me. Today after seeing the soil all over the floor I inspected the plant to find that my cat has been using it as her personal potty. Unwilling to give up on a living thing I cut out the roots, disposed of the soil and I am soaking the roots to see if I can salvage them! My family thinks I am crazy. On top of this my allergic reactions to my cat are getting more severe so in turn she takes every opportunity to rub up against me and wrap herself around my neck with no regard to my swelled up eyes and congestion.
Our 9 year old Haley has been having Crazy eight tournaments with us in the garage. Her and I can not seem to win but if the mood strikes us we will keep playing till 4 am….NEVER GIVE UP!! I have great memories of playing cards with my parents growing up and I want to share that with my children but so far only Haley is interested. Morgan is fourteen so therefore not very interested in us at all!
We even did some Telus Christmas karaoke over the Holidays. I learned that after a couple of glasses of red wine I can do a pretty good rendition of Patsy Cline. Please note my standards are low and I am tone deaf.
As you can see nothing too exciting is happening and my brain is mash potato mush. I wanted to thank all of you for continuing to stop by during my hiatus and when my Staycation is over I will be back, I promise.
I figure by now most of you have sobered up and decided that your New Years resolutions were little more then drunk talk. I was stone cold sober on NYE so therefore I didn’t make a bunch of grand New Years resolutions. Too much pressure 😉
I am just going to fly by the seat of my pants. Welcome 2014, let’s have a fantastic year together!
The Shack is not a book I would normally buy because it confronts the grief of a father (Mack) after the brutal murder of his young daughter. Having daughters it is a subject matter that I would normally back away from. I was with Haley at her School Book Fair and something drew me to it. I picked it up and put it down several times before deciding to take it home and spend an evening curled up reading.
The Shack confronts grief and heartache in a very real and relatable way. It explores the power of forgiveness, faith, hope, grace and love. It asks questions, it helps you seek and find answers, it shows you beauty and truth and for me reinforced some things that I believed to be true.
The Shack wrestles with the timeless question “Where is God in a world so filled with unspeakable pain?”
I became absorbed in this book and I found that the answers that Mack was seeking were often to questions I had asked myself. It took me on a brilliant journey, both compelling and daring, shining a spotlight on things we all struggle with, our faith, our beliefs, our shortcomings…
From beginning to end it painted a vivid picture of human emotion. Sometimes wonderfully eloquent and others deceptive and ugly.
I was captivated, I cried, I was angry, I was justified, I was redeemed, I passed judgment in haste, and I was enlightened.
It is a book that will weave it’s way into your heart and fill up all the cold and empty spaces. I believe in one way or another it will have an impact on you. Powerfully clarifying and gracefully simple, if you read it, you will be changed.
I felt compelled to join the Missy Project to get the word out about this fascinating tale. If you have read let me know what you thought or give it a read and let me know.
I don’t really believe that there is women’s work and men’s work. I believe that gender roles should be equal but that being said somehow in my marriage we fell into more of traditional roles and I have been lucky enough to not have to get my hands dirty changing my oil, changing tires or taking out the toilet all three times our children decided to flush something that didn’t belong.
About a year and half ago I quit my job. My husband and I thought it was important that I have more time for our children with him away. Initially trepidatious I agreed it was for the best. I do some work from home and I am a volunteer board member for a local league. I am a full time wife, mother, cook, taxi driver and role model.
Do not misinterpret this to mean that I love picking up dirty socks or dirty dishes. I don’t and I can safely say that though my family does not readily change their heathen ways it is not from lack of trying. My displeasure is known and though it would be easier I don’t do it for them. If I have to ask ten times it gets louder everytime and eventually the socks will get picked up.
My husband is away for work more then he is home and I know when he is there everybody wants a piece of him. His phone rings steady, people are in his ear and he is responsible for a crew of young guys that he affectionately calls his kids.
One day last week I was on the phone bitching to him about trying to get our daughter out of bed for school and he asked if I would like to trade him and get five thirteen year olds out of bed in the morning. I changed the subject of the conversation.
Both if us have our roles and he is exceptional at his and I handle mine. Sometimes we struggle silently because part of our roles as husband and wife is too lift each other up, not weight each other down with complaints. When you live apart from each other sometimes part of supporting each other is learning to lean on yourself. It’s a unique situation for certain and I don’t know that I will ever master it but I know that I won’t stop trying.
I know that my husband doesn’t tell me everyday how lonesome it gets living up North, how hard it is to miss your childrens special moments and get up and go to work each day, everyday knowing how many people are depending on him.
In turn I try to make sure that all the business here gets taken care of. The children are fed, educated and active, I volunteer at their school and their league, the business paperwork is done on time and I teach our girls about hard work, about integrity, about accountability and about the value of a dollar. I try to have a little life for myself because it is important for me and for them to see.
Our roles are very different but equally important. I know I miss Kirk somedays more then I say and I definitely appreciate him more then I could ever express. I know that he makes our lives possible and in turn we make his possible. We are all doing our best and continuing to learn. I do not define him nor he me but I believe that we make each other better!
Our kids are growing up with a family that doesn’t all get to sit down at the dinner table together every night but they are being given opportunities that neigher my husband and I had as children.
Families don’t fit into a little box like they used to. That perfect fifties style family with the Mom serving dinner in a dress to a suit and tie dad while her well groomed children say their prayers and talk about their day over meatloaf and pie!
Dancing in the rain! 