May 17, 2007

As we all know, my trips to the grocery store are usually filled with freaks, more freaks and now mighty fucking annoying clumsy people.

As I’m putting my groceries on the conveyer belt thingy, there’s a man behind me, holding a few things. He starts pushing my stuff further up the counter, which, listen buddy, you can wait the 30 seconds it takes for my crap to be rung through. So he continues to push my groceries and as I turn back to the cashier to roll my eyes, we hear a huge crash. The moron pushed my glass jar of barbeque sauce off onto the floor. Of course the sauce doesn’t just fall in a plop on the floor, it splatters like some kind of yucky crime scene and I now have bright red barbeque sauce splashed on my pants. My nice capris actually. My nice white capris.

I look back at Mr Pushalot and he’s smiling like an idiot and literally saying, “he he he”. He what? He gonna get his ass kicked by white capried lady with red sauce sloshed on her pantlegs, that’s what. I give him my best death glare, which I’m told is about as scary as Bambi giving a dirty look but still, I’m giving it my best effort. The cashier apologizes, which was sweet, but it’s not your fault honey, it’s the dumbass behind me. I’m thinking, he’s going to say he’s sorry at least. Nope. Instead, he again starts pushing my groceries and then my son’s butterscotch pudding cups fall onto the floor, and you guessed it, into the big blob of sauce. I give yet another death stare and the guy is still smiling like he’s won a prize. I gotta prize for you buddy, bend over and let’s see just how far my pretty high heels can fit up your butt. Wait. I like my nice shoes, so forget that. Let’s see how far the cashiers fist can go up your butt. Wait. That’s not fair to her. She was lovely and friendly, and why should she be grossed out? Let’s get the janitor and his mop and we’ll see how far that mop handle goes up shall we?

I’m looking at this guy and he’s still not said he’s sorry. I turn to the cashier and roll my eyes again. Then I see his wife coming over (or maybe she’s his nurse from the PYSCHO ward) and she’s pointing to the mess and he starts giggling again (weird) and then they both run away. Ummm, they’re in their 50’s and acting like they’re 10. Or 2. Whatever.

That was my fun evening. How was yours? Did you get splattered with barbeque sauce? No? Well no need to brag. Gah.

May 9, 2007

That’s what the wind did to me today. It’s so freakin’ windy here, that had I brought my wings (they were being cleaned) with me on my walk, I’m quite certain I could have taken flight.

I walked to the grocery store and although, nothing major happened while in the store, with the exception of an angry lady complaining to me about how she’s sick of the customer service there, I did have a fun walk getting there. By fun, I mean, where’s a taxi when you want one?

First, I saw someone’s wig laying on the sidewalk. I had to do a double take but sure enough, it was a brown wig. I’m not sure how you lose your wig and not notice unless perhaps they were drunk or on drugs or they wanted to be bald today, who knows. I did take a cell phone picture of it but since it’s not great quality, it looks like a giant pile of dog crap, which I’m sure you don’t really want or need to see. Unless you’re some kind of freak and if that’s the case, then you can find a blog that posts pictures of dog poo. I’m not doing it and you can’t make me.

I also got hit in the head with an empty pop can. As mentioned, it’s so bloody windy, that everything not tied down or weighing over 10lbs is being strewn about and hitting people. I also got jabbed in the corner of my right eye with a folded up receipt from Home Depot. That kinda hurt. Not hurt like, I want to roll over and die or call 911 but hurt nonetheless. Feel sorry for me yet?

And finally, I stepped in pinkish vomit right outside of Michaels craft store. I mean, who hasn’t stepped in puke on the sidewalk in front of a shopping plaza? And who hasn’t hurled on the sidewalk at some point in their life? Happens to me all. the. time.

I could use a nap now. I feel volated after walking in barf. And what the hell did they puke up? I mean it was day glo pink. Maybe they just drank a whole bottle of Pepto? But doesn’t that help an upset stomach? I dunno. I’m tired now. I have to go wash my sandals. Or maybe I’ll just throw them away. Or burn them. Where are my matches?

*Edit* Maybe the person who threw up, was the one who lost their wig later on? Just a thought. Okay back to burning my footwear and bleaching my feet.

*Edit again* Or maybe they lost their wig, didn’t notice AND then puked because they lost their wig? I’m thinking out loud here, is there a law against that? No. Oops, note to self, don’t burn footwear inside. Gotta go.

May 7, 2007

…are coming to town in July. And by boyfriends, I mean I’m clearly delusional and need immediate psychiatric attention boyfriends (Chad and Chris). Deal.

Nickelback and Chris Daughtry are performing here in Calgary 3 days before my birthday. I think they probably planned it that way, just for me. They’re so dang sweet. I have to say my husband really puts up with alot. This is now the fourth time in 2 1/2 years that he’s bought me Nickelback tickets. He really is nice, so nice infact, that he doesn’t care that I beg him to buy me time to see my boyfriends. That’s true love people. True love. He’s not sure if he’s going to go to the concert with me, so I may be taking someone else. We’ll see how that plays out. I could go with the local fruitcake and I wouldn’t care, just as long as I’m going to be seeing this concert. I’m already secretly very excited. My husband was well thanked. Just sayin’.

I did some baking today. And I didn’t poison anyone or induce vomitting in any way, shape or form. You should be proud of me, so very proud. I might take up cooking. You know, on a full time basis. Wait. Wait. Oh. I’m over that idea. Must be the medication talking. What medication you ask? My allergies have not bothered me for SEVEN years and lucky me, they kicked into high gear this year. Fabulous. I love walking around with itchy watery eyes, sniffling a million times a day and punching people in the neck. I’m not 100% sure if punching people is an allergy symptom or maybe that’s just my inner devil. I’ll get back to you on that one.

I got a wrong number on Saturday on my cell phone. A woman, with a very strong Spanish accent called and she was calling me sweetheart and telling me how much she missed me. I was flattered but very bewildered because I didn’t recognize her voice at all. Again, thought maybe it was the meds.

Hello?

Hi sweetheart! Oh, hello! I’ve missed you honey, how are you?

I’m fine thank you. And you? I’m starting to panic a little, wondering if I’m going to be feeling so stupid for not recognizing my mother’s voice but then I remembered, she’s not Spanish nor does she do a very good fake Spanish accent.

I’m good honey, I’ve missed you so much! You’re such a sweetheart. Well clearly I know this person because they know me, telling me what a sweetheart I am. Ya.

Ummm, thank you. So what’s new?

Nothin’ much honey, how’ve you been?

Busy.

Oh really? This is Sonya right?

Sonya? No, I’m sorry it’s not.

Oh yes! This isn’t Sonya? Well who are you? Do I know you? This isn’t Sonya?

No, I’m thinking you have the wrong number.

Oh my goodness, really? Is this ***-****?

No, not really even close. What area code are you calling from?

I’m calling from 303.

This is 403. So ya, wrong number.

Oh honey, you’re a sweetheart and I do apologize for dialing the wrong number.

Ah, well, that’s okay.

I was kinda sad that she had the wrong number, she seemed fun. I mean, she was obviously in love with me. But then again, who isn’t?

I’m off to finish making spagetti. Doesn’t that sound exciting? You’re so jealous you’ve peed your pants. Don’t be embarrassed. I won’t tell.

April 4, 2007

Well my payment to the power company has finally been received. I guess it must have been going by horse and buggy, seeing this is only 2007 and no way do we have enough technology to transport a payment from my bank account directly to the place I want to pay my bill. Maybe in the year 2045 that will be a reality. Maybe I should invent that. Where oh where is my mad scientist hat?

Now we just have to wait and see how long it takes for someone to come and hook us back up. The nice (not being sarcastic) lady I spoke with this evening said it can take up to 24 to 48 hours. I’m hoping for an hour. Although she didn’t give me that option, I’m crossing my fingers and wishing on my genie that it comes true. I mean that bitch lives in a gold bottle and wears a bikini, so surely she can grant me that much.

It would be nice if you not only dreamed about me tonight (just because I’m cool), but crossed all of your crossable body parts, you know, if you’re not using them right now. Thanks.

Well it’s now been over 48 hours with no heat and no way to cook meals, no lights, with the exception of our diningroom light and livingroom light. It’s so fun peeing in the dark. I guess I’ll have to clean out my closet now. Oops.

My kids are going to have a great time telling all of their friends about their spring break. ‘Hey what did you guys do on your spring break’? ‘Well, we played pin the icicle on the doorframe, skating rink in the bathroom and ring around the frostbitten toes’. It was a blast! Beat that bitches!

I went to the bank yesterday to get help from the teller who took my payment to the power company and it would have been much more fruitful had I just stayed home and punched myself in the face. That’s how helpful she was. I can see why she’s a valuable employee to that bank. Absolutely. And it was nice of her to blame me for her not stamping the other portion of my bill. I guess I forgot that I DON’T get a pay cheque from the bank and didn’t do my job properly. You know, reach over the counter, grab the bank stamp from the teller and stamp my receipt. Stupid me.

It’s Good Friday on Friday. And while that might be ‘good’ any other time, it gives me no pleasure this year. If our payment doesn’t reach said power company tonight or tomorrow, then we’ll be in the dark and cold until Monday or Tuesday. Now that warms my heart. Oh wait, my heart is a frozen piece of tundra right now because it’s 40 fucking degrees in my house.

The thing that kills me, is everyone (power company people and helpful teller at the bank) keeps saying things like, ‘well we don’t know that you paid that amount on your account. You may have paid someone else’s account’. I mean does that even make sense? Who pays their neighbours’ power bills? Or the guy you met on the bus? Or your mail person? Or your liquor provider? Let’s be reasonable. And if I did indeed pay my neighbours bill, why would I call the power company 5 thousand times a day to find out if my payment got there? It’s all asinine in my opinion. It would be one thing for me to whine if we’d not paid our bill. I’d have no reason to even open my cakehole. But we’ve paid it. FIVE DAYS AGO. In FULL. Up to date. Like come on, is there noone that can give us a break? I guess not.

Time to go and stick my hands in the snow to thaw them outside because that’s way warmer than my house right now. Happy Hump Day. Ya baby, ya.

April 3, 2007

I hate power companies. I want to name the particular power company I hate but I won’t because maybe they’re like a certain ridiculous combed over billionaire loser, who like to sue people.

I paid our bill in full on Friday but guess what? We got cut off on Monday anyway. I must be retarded, because I was certain if one paid one’s bill, then you were entitled to that service? Hmmm. I guess not. So we’ve been without heat since yesterday at noon. Almost 24 hours ago. Oh and lucky for us, we’re in below normal temps for this time of year and we’re getting SNOW. I’m not 100% sure how cold it is in my house but I’m guessing it’s around 40 F. I’m not even kidding.

How am I using my computer you ask if I have no power? Well they give you a partial load limit which runs a few things. We have 2 lights, the phone, tv and computer. And our fridge and furnace are supposed to run as they are considered essentials. The fridge works but the furnace doesn’t. And having the fridge work is great an’ all, since who wants their food to rot but I can’t cook any of that food, so who cares right? At this point I want heat. I’ve made several phone calls but it’s like talking to a brick wall. The bitch sweet lady I talked to today, yelled at me and said for all she knows I paid our neighbour’s bill or my brother’s. That’s because the stupid bank teller (I don’t like banks either) neglected to put the power company’s account number on the receipt, so they see, yes we did pay $x amount but it doesn’t show to what account. We only have one account but like nice lady yelled today, maybe we were paying the neighbours account. Because we all know how much I love my neighbours. I mean honestly, a little common sense might go a long way people. Would I really call 8 million times a day, upset, complaining that I’m fucking cold if I paid the neighbours account off? Get real.

So I should probably go and treat my frostbite before my digits start falling off. I was going to suggest I make myself some bacon and eggs but oh, I can’t because I have NO POWER. Even though our account is paid in full. Isn’t that just dandy? I love how things work. You pay, you get nothing. You get to freeze your ass off in your own house. I love that. And by love, I mean I want to chew nails with my teeth and then spit them like daggers at certain people who sit behind their stupid desks and act all holy-er than thou. If anyone has some sunshine or a heater, could ya’ll send it to me? Thanks.

March 30, 2007

I think I might have been in a coma and although my calendar does say Friday, I think it’s really Monday. Are you with me on this? Can someone clear this up for me?

Well, I can’t really get into details per say but I will say this: Buying a house and doing an “assumable mortgage” is HELL. There have been few situations in my life where I have felt this much stress and I’m going on auto pilot. I swear I don’t know if I’m coming or going. It’s a strange feeling and I don’t think I like it. But such is life. Hopefully I’ll be back to normal soon. Like I was ever normal. Ha.

My day started off shitty, no other way to put it. First, I woke with a migraine. Well, that’s not entirely true. I mean, I did wake with a migraine but it’s the same fucking one I’ve had for a month. I’ve eaten so many pills that my stomach feels like it’s going to fall out. Stomachs can’t just fall out right? Right? Come on, I’m looking for answers here people and expect them. I’m demanding like that.

Okay, take 2 pills, and get on with my day. I’m walking my daughter to school this morning and we have to cross the street in front of her school. There are signs up that say YIELD TO PEDESTRIANS. To me, that means FUCKING STOP WHEN YOU SEE PEOPLE WALKING IN FRONT OF YOUR CAR. Dontcha think? As we are crossing (and there’s also a STOP sign that hello, means STOP), this lady pulls up to the stop sign. She did stop. I will give her that. So my daughter and I are directly in front of her car. We have the right of way, and I look up at her except she’s not looking ahead. She’s staring out her window, looking to her left. Then she steps on the gas. Ah ya, hi, I’m WALKING IN FRONT OF YOUR CAR. As I’m yanking on my daughter’s arm to get her out of the way (and mind you this is all happening in miliseconds/seconds) the woman finally turns her head to see, Oh shoot, there are people almost touching my bumper. Oh because I’ve hit the gas and not been looking out my windshield as I should be doing if I’m going to DRIVE. I shot daggers out of my eyes at her as she slammed on her brakes and I’m pretty sure I stabbed her in the head with them. She refused to make eye contact with me then. Oh I see how it is, you get to just about run me and my daughter over and then you don’t have to make direct eye contact. Did you feel stupid? I hope so. You need to have your licence taken away or a ninya kick you in the ass. The latter would be nice.

I walked home without further incident and decided I had to get to the bank and then to the post office to mail a package. The bank was quick and painless, although I had to listen to the angry man beside me rip a strip off of the teller, which, although it may be heartless for me to think it was fun, but it was. Let’s just say because of this whole house stuff, I’m not keen on banks. Anyway, I leave the bank and head to the post office across the street. I get in there and yay, no lineup! Just one dude in front of me. The lady behind the counter comes over to assist me and as I’m standing there, I hear this weird noise behind me and hear, “oh look out!”. Now, listen, I’m not too swift these days and being in a stupour for the past month, my senses are dulled. Or maybe it’s the vodka. I don’t know. Anyway, I slowly turn around and then get sprayed on the side of the head/face with 7-UP. Yes, 7-UP. There’s a guy behind me, who had been loading cases of pop into the cooler and one of the 2 litre bottles became angry I guess and threw itself on the floor and split open and as it’s lying on the floor, spinning around, it’s shooting pop up about 5 feet in the air, thus spraying the walls, the products hanging on the racks and me. The postal lady was smart as was the dude standing beside me. They jumped out of the way. I didn’t. I just stood there like a moron, watching the pop spitting out of the crazy bottle spinning like a top on the floor. I think the postal lady told me to get out of the way. Too late. The other chick offered to wipe my jacket off with a paper towel. No, that’s okay because I’m going to go buy a giant bag of brownies and eat them until I vomit. And then I’m going to flush my head in the toilet. Then maybe I’ll pass out. Then maybe I’ll go fight crime. We’ll see. I’ll have to go dig out my super hero costume. Oh shit, it’s at the cleaners.

I hope your Friday is better than mine. Wanna come eat brownies with me?

March 22, 2007

Knock, knock, anyone home? Remember I shared my ‘hopefully will happen soon’ good news? Ya? Well, I was thinking I’d be flooded with house warming gifts, such as huge wads of cash, jewels and socks, everything a new house needs and/or a big swanky party. So far, nothin’. Nada. Zip. Zero. I see something very wrong with this picture. You all say, ‘you’re a crazy bitch’, ‘we love you’ but I’m not feelin’ it or seein’ it people. Get your shit together, mmmkay?

It’s Thursday (although I’m going to tell you in a later paragraph that I’m confused on the days, you just wait and see…you didn’t know I was psychic) and besides feeling slighted that noone cares enough to host a big schwing ding for me, I’ve got nothing to bitch about. Well, almost nothing.

Does anyone watch American Idol? I pretend to and when I’m pretending to be into a show, it really pisses me off that they allow people who can’t sing on that show. Girlie haired boy really has to go. Sure he’s young, just a baby really, has pretty hair and nice teeth, but last time I checked this was a singing competetion. And he. can’t. sing. I guess Howard Stern’s mission is working. Do I care? Not as much as I care that noone has sent me any presents.

Oh, did I mention I’ve got the perma-headache from hell? It’s a migraine that never fully goes away, lingers, making one feel nausous and wanting to punch people in the neck. Maybe that’s why noone is sending gifts or having parties for me. I’ve been on a punching rampage, thus alienating potential gift givers and party throwers. Duh.

My daughter informed her father last night that she needs $12.50 for a diary she wants to buy. She told him that he only needs to worry about the 12 bucks as she can spare the 50 cents. She needs to write her ‘private crap’ down as she put it to me this morning. Oookaaaay. She’s six. Although she looks six, I’m thinking she’s 24. Gotta be some joke on me.

I’m all mixed up this week, thinking today was really Friday but no, it’s only Thursday (see, told ya I was psychic). Survivor was on last night and I think that’s what messed me up. Doesn’t take much does it? Or maybe it’s because I’ve been drunk for 8 days packing like a mad person, even though we still don’t know for 100% sure if we have a house to move into. I suppose it’s better to be prepared. I should save a few of the cardboard boxes I have incase we need them, you know, to live in. Cardboard is the new condo.

It’s spring now incase you missed it. I like to make sure my 7 fans 957 fans are up to date on the latest news and world events. I’m informative like that. Just a big bag of knowledge I am. Or maybe it’s just a big bag. I’ll get back to you on that one. Are you as bored as I am? *Yawn*

I should perhaps get off of my duff and do more, ah, cleaning. Ya, cleaning. Or is it sleeping I’m thinking of? I get the two confused sometimes. Maybe that’s why we have no clean clothes or dishes or floors, or bathrooms. Hmmm. Okay, gotta go scratch my head and wonder what happened to my brain.

March 1, 2007

…..My life feels like it’s in the toilet and because of that, I feel fugly. Kinda like the above picture. I don’t have any idea who that is and no offense, thankfully I don’t actually look like that but I wanted to show you how I feel. I’m not going to get into any details really because honestly, my 3 500 fans want funny, not whiney/sad crap. Well it will be crap but if we’re gonna talk crap, let’s at least make it funny right? I’ve got my hand on the pulse of everything. I’m super cool like that.

We have less than 3 months to be moved out and now no house. The fugly pink house has 100% been sold and although I was really upset about it, my 10 year old son said today that we’ll just keep watching and maybe the new owners will someday want to sell it. He’s got a point.

I’m a tad worried about clumps of hair falling out when I wash it. I mean I do have lots of hair and so far no bald spots, but damn it’s creepy seeing that much hair in the tub. I always freak a bit, thinking it’s a redhaired rodent and then realize, ah no, it’s not. I’m chalking it up to stress and I’m sure a little booze bag of cookies will fix that right up. If I start looking like baldy Britney, then I’ll worry.

I think I sprained my wrist but I’m not 100% sure. I do know that it hurts like hell when I type and when I tried to punch the retarded bank teller in the ass today, I could barely get a good swing so I’m thinking I did something to it. Next time that bizatch is gonna meet the high heel of my boot. No need for wrist action for that. Goooood thinkin’.

I’m wondering when spring is going to come around? I mean I know it officially arrives on March 21st according to my calendar but that’s 3 weeks from now. I want it now. Like 2 days ago. Is that asking too much? Like what the hell does Mother Nature have to do that she’s too damn busy to get spring going. Spring into action MN (that’s what I call Mother Nature, MN. We’re tight like that. Sorta.). Get it? Like my play on words? I’m so, wordy.?. Ah ya.

I got a new pair of pants a couple of weeks ago. Isn’t that exciting? Aren’t you thrilled for me? You’re probably slapping your leg right now, saying, ‘damn that girl is a rebel, buying new pants’. I know it and you know it.

Tonight is my favourite tv night. I watch ER and Survivor. Any ER and/or Survivor fans out there? Wanna talk about it? Don’t you just love Luca? And by love, I mean, don’t you want to rip off his clothes (probably not so much you Ozy, unless there’s something you want to tell me?) and smear chocolate on him and then……………………….oops, sorry, I fell off my chair. On that note, I should go help my kids with their homework because goodness knows the maid/chef/tutor didn’t bother showing up today. Damn lazy bitch. Peace out.

February 24, 2007

I really, really should be doing laundry right now. You know what though? My laundry isn’t going anywhere, so I say, to hell with it. Except, that I do need my laundry because it’s basically my clothes and I’m not going out in public naked. At least not today.

Did I tell you that my neighbours still have their Christmas tree up? Yup, they do. I don’t think it’s so much the old man that is in charge of the tree, I believe it’s the old battleaxe wife that is so weird that she can’t tell if it’s December or if I’ve punched her in her ugly someone’s shat on my face kinda face or that it’s actually February. I think they still have their Halloween lights up too. Freaks.

I’m going to another hockey game tonight. Isn’t that just the shiznat? Amazing really because this is only my second time. Remember I was a hockey virgin just last month? Well I’m reminding you. Geez, you have a short memory. Have you been drinking? You should lean towards the example I set, and that is being sloshed 24/7 a model person who never does anything that would make anyone’s eyebrows go up in shock. I’m all innocent like that. Near perfect really. It’s kind of embarrassing. Oh well. Such is life.

Oh ya, I forgot to tell you about my wrong number. They follow me like flies to shit. Ah. Hmm. Anyway, goes like this:

Hello?

Hi, is Mrs. Begoenogowiulknlngsslijtoy there? (People never get my last name right. And it really sounds like it looks) (Ah that’s not my real last name. It aint’ that fucking weird.)

Ah ya, sure, close enough.

I’m wondering if you would prefer a new phone, 2 extras for 2 months for free or 5% off of your bill for 5 months?

What? Who is this?

Oh I’m calling from *insert stupid phone company name here*.

Well I’m quite happy with the company we’re with now. Thanks anyway.

I’m thinking, that my last sentence pretty much signals the end of our stimulating conversation but alas it does not.

If you could just tell me which ‘free’ option you’d like, then I can get you started.

Get me started on what? Unless you’re offering me a free trip to Africa, $10,000 in cash, a new car and a hot massage, I’m not biting.

Excuse me? Ah, well, I, ah, well we can give you a free phone. *Insert asinine fucking retarded fake laugh here*

I have 2 phones that I’m happy with, we get along very well.

Well you could get the 2 extras such as call waiting and call forwarding, and they’d be free for 2 months! Two months!

Wow! Fantastic. But I get SIX free features with my current phone service provider. All. The. Time.

You could save 5% off of your total bill for 5 months!!!!!!!!

Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No.

Can I just…….

Listen, I know it’s your job to call me and mispronounce my name even though it’s quite simple to pronounce (my daughter could spell it for shits sake at age 2) and I know you’re all excited when you tell me about your ‘free stuff’ but I’m telling you, I’m not switching. Never. Ever.

But you can even keep your same phone number!

Super. I’m still not switching. You have yourself a nice day now. See ya. And by see ya, I mean I’m going to get out my voodoo doll and stick needles in it, pretending it’s you. What’s your name again?

Are you sure……….

I hung up. Geez. Like I have things to do mister annoying telephony man. I have M&M’s to look after. I have hair to flat iron. I have booze that requires my attention church functions to attend. Sigh. It’s hard being me.

Okay, time to get in the shower. It’s like 1pm-ish and here I’ve sat for most of the day. I did clean earlier and feed my kids so it’s not like I did nothing. Close to it but not quite. Ya’ll (don’t I sound cute when I say that? No? Well then.) have a super friggin’ Saturday.