This post will have to substitute for something flowy and good

June 22, 2006 Me, Unplugged

Lately I’ve been so busy I can barely find time to make a meal, and I’ve been living on more Slim-Shit-Fast than any human should have to endure. Even last night when I was all whiny and clutching my eye! my eye! I still managed to get two layouts done and dress up a brand-spanking new blog that made my blogroll from it’s very first entry.

Go look. My confession is in there too, though it’s much tamer than some of the ones in there, that’s for damn sure. Oh and Daren, sweetie, SHMOOPIE, I’m REALLY GLAD hygiene is not an issue with you, because after reading some of those confessions, I had to get down on my knees and praise you for being so clean.

Oh my God, people. Think about your mother with that filthy brain?

Big Brother was interesting. There are certain people I don’t want back in the house and I REALLY hope they don’t make it. Like Howie, who claims to be the most handsome houseguest ever. Maybe at the pound, pal. Cowboy needs to stay home, and if I hear his weird sister say “Cool Beans!” one more time, I might have to track her down and punch her in the face. SHE is the reason I don’t like that phrase, because now I can only hear it in her nasal-ly, nerdy voice. Gah!

(sorry cb - nothing against you, because I completely adore you, but you KNOW what she is like.)

I’m not even going to get into Alison and Jase. Bimbo and Bimbette Bookends. I wonder what that makes me for watching this crap. Me loves some crappy t.v. though.

Here is one of the first requests for pictures. Mike, here you have it: the trunk of my car:

Daren’s tool bag, a stroller, a LeapPad that needs to be returned to Wal-mart, for the FOURTH time (piece of crap) and lots of other junk that gets thrown in there when it’s Daren’s turn for carpool and the car looks like a toy tsunami hit the back seats. I’m sure you’re so thrilled I shared that with you. Are you….snoring?

Because I Wanna Know

June 21, 2006 BlogPants

1) Are you going to watch Big Brother this season? I’m so addicted and I need to know I’m not totally nuts for watching this crap.

2) Are you going to BlogHer?

3) Do you think the paparazzi would be less agressive and mean if we stopped buying the magazines? Do you think the laws ought to be changed regarding the personal space of celebrities?

That’s it. Have a great afternoon!

Brokedown Mama

June 20, 2006 family

I’m going to have a mental breakdown tonight and no one can stop me. Once the kids are in bed, and Daren has left for hockey, I’m going to make the biggest of all big-ass bowls of popcorn, surround myself with chocolate and copious amounts of water (I don’t drink pop) and watch some sappy chick flick on t.v. or something equally stupid.

With ONE EYE.

What happened, you may wonder? Well, it started last night, I suppose. Daren took Dylan to a friends house to watch the Edmonton Oilers get smoked by the Carolina Hurricanes and I told Dylan he could stay home from school today because otherwise he would be a blubbering mess to get ready for school in the morning. I didn’t need that since I haven’t slept in two days and well, I’m a little bitchy. And by a little, I mean I could blow at any minute. I’ve had intermittent PMS for 2 weeks, yet no sign of M. Whatever. I don’t care about that but the hormones/bitchiness can kiss my ass.

This morning, Troll Baby awoke with a fire in his belly and vengence in his heart. Well, that’s a little dramatic but he was damn grumpy. We were two peas in a grumpy-ass pod while Dylan slept half the morning away. I tried to work on graphics as much as I could and nothing good was coming of it. My customers probably think I’m a moron. Newsflash: I’m a moron. For today, at least.

Fast forward a little to lunchtime. Troll Baby was starving, and Dylan wasn’t hungry at all. I told yelled at Dylan, “This is not a short order restaurant,” and in the back of my mind, I’m thinking, oh my good freaking lord I sound like my Granny, except she doesn’t yell. Troll Baby screamed through lunch, and I figured he was tired. He managed to eat something before I changed him and sent him off to naptime.

Ahhhhh…..peace.

As per his usual MO, Troll Baby talked and laughed, pooped, and then began to cry, signalling for me to change him again. This naptime routine is getting old, and it’s not like I can leave his first wet diaper on in hopes he will fill his drawers into that one, because he won’t. He will cry and cry until he gets a fresh diaper to poop in. I guess he gets that from me. Not that I wear diapers, but I can’t do both duties in the same visit to the bathroom. You needed to know that. ANYHOO. So we sing this same damn song every damn day and there’s no breaking him of it.

BUT GET THIS.

Today was different. I changed him a second time, not making eye contact or speaking to him (they say to do this in the books and it’s working OH SO WELL that we do it everyday.) Then I finally got in the shower. Yay! Usually once I’m out, he’s out.

NOT TODAY ZURG.

He started crying again. I went in and he had POOPED AGAIN. This whole nap avoidance stragedy is obviously paying off, but I changed him again, again without making eye contact or noise, and put him back to bed. I’ve debated on leaving him in it, and making him sleep in it, but he is prone to butt rashes and I just can’t listen to the screaming. Oh, did you think I was going to say, “I couldn’t possibly bring myself to leave my child in his own crap for 2 hours?” Yeah well, I could; if it didn’t affect his butt so bad, and seeing as it would take 3-5 days to break him, I’m betting 3-5 days of butt rash is about as pretty as Boy George.

Besides, do I need to give this child a reason to cry some more?

Troll Baby slept for about an hour, less than half the time he normally naps. When he awoke, he was crying really hard. I went up and he was all sweaty and cranky and stayed that way right through to when I had to start dinner. Dylan went to a friends house for dinner. Thinking I had some peace and quiet while I made Troll Baby some soup, I called my Granny to say hi. No sooner was I on the line, and here was Mister Whiny Pissy Pants at my feet, blubbering on about the dog dish and trying to hand it to me or drink out of it or something. Blech.

He cried when I was blowing on his soup, when I was opening his yogurt to tide him over, while I got his spoon, and while I handed him his dinner. He cried right through dinner, and afterwards, I thought a nice bath might make him fix whatever ailment he was feeling. He played in the tub (happily!) while I plucked my eyebrows (and cried, since I’m a big baby), and I thought all was finally better as I dried him off and took him into his room.

I was standing him up to pull up his pajama pants when the skinny book he was holding jabbing me in the eye. DEEP in the eye. It went right under my eye and I’m pretty sure I have not just a paper cut, but a cardboard cut in my eye. It throbs and stings all at once. And because it’s deep under my eyeball, you can’t really see much. And neither can I.

So while I have a one-eyed mental breakdown, you have yourselves a lovely evening.

*sniff*

Yours very truly,

Mike Wazowski

She’s Mighty Mighty, Just Lettin’ It All Hang Out

June 18, 2006 Me, Unplugged

As I said before, I’ve been in a fitness rut, I buy a DVD that interests me. That being said, I have been so busy with work that the lonely DVD I bought had been sitting on the dishwasher since it arrived. Until yesterday.

Yesterday when I weighed myself and was at 190 pounds. I lost 2 pounds! Yee haw! So here’s my most unflattering-angled picture. For me, this takes some serious bravery to share with you, so be nice. This is my before picture - let’s hope the after picture (whenever that will be) is MUCH more flattering. (Don’t mind my hair - it’s flat after being up all day.)

Yeah. Gorgeous. Blech. I HATE my midsection. Oh and my thighs. Also, my ass, which thankfully, you can’t see here. But that all is going to change.

Hoping to rekindle the love I have with Yoga, that DVD I bought (and left on the dishwasher for 2 weeks) was the Iron Yoga DVD. And I worked it yesterday - a full hour of balancing, breathing, and busting my hips - childbearing hips are loose, and mine hurt ALOT when strained.

I do love the complete focus on my body, my breathing and my balance. This DVD turned out to be a good one to ease myself back into Yoga, as the instructor and his two demonstrators show beginner, intermediate and advanced levels. I feel I will be able to progress with this one. I needed 1.5 lb soft dumbells, and since I didn’t know that ahead of time, I used two cans of diced tomatoes. Not really great for my poor thumbs, but whatever. I’m just glad I didn’t drop them on my bare toes.

After the DVD, I was feeling quite proud of myself, and re-energized. I decided to grab Dylan’s iPod and spend some time dusting off and jumping on my Tony Little Gazelle. I love it. I’m actually quite the freak on it, dancing, and singing away in the basement. I had to laugh at Dylan’s choice in music on his iPod though. AC/DC’s Thunderstruck, followed by The Backyardigans Pirate Songs didn’t exactly do it for me. Uniqua isn’t exactly an inspiration.

My jungle music-loving brother Joel had put some decent tunes on there and that got me through at least 30 minutes of gliding. I stretched out to the perfect song for after work-out stretching: Morning Light by Concord Dawn (Klute Remix).

Speaking of tunes, here’s my hot list for revving up my engines:

Lose Control - Missy Elliot

Tango Shoes and I Love Myself Today - Bif Naked

Just a Lil Bit - 50 Cent (Hey, it makes me shake my ass)

Pendulum - Tarantula (Thanks Joel)

Little Sister - Queens of The Stone Age

Terrorist Renegade by DJ Hype

Police in Helicopter - Congo Natty featuring TopCat

Golddigger - Kanye West and Jamie Foxx

Sugar - Trick Daddy

Bittersweet Symphony - Capital J (jungle remix)

I know I’m whiter than fresh fallen snow, but holy crap I shouldn’t have been born this way. Baby got back, and she loves to shake it. I’m back, bitches!

What songs get you revved right up and super energized?

Some Days I Feel Like Mary Tyler Moore….

June 16, 2006 family

…and some days I don’t.

If you’ve been following the saga of rude old people in my quest for groceries and like, than you’re in for a treat. Bad things (or in this case, bad people) really do happen in threes.

Wednesday, the day after the Prove-A-Point Lady mouthed off to me in the grocery store parking lot, I stayed home. I worked on graphics, played Legos and went about my day. I wasn’t about to tempt fate and be critisized on my parenting skills or my all-important choices of “How many bags?” or “Do I need a cart?” No way. Not me.

Yesterday after school, an older man came to our door. You know these guys, they want to sell you cheaper electricity. He rattles off a shpeel about controlling our own rate, and I interrupt him with a polite, “No thank you.” (I’ve been saying that alot lately.)

“Well is your husband home?”

“Pardon me?”

“Is your husband home?”

“Why?”

“Because I think he would want to hear about this.”

“I’m not following.” (I’m being sarcastic at this point, because um hello? It is 2006 and wives have been protecting their families from door-to-door tactics for at least 70 years, not to mention making decisions about the home and family.)

“Well he would want to know what you are saying no to, wouldn’t he?”

“Are you kidding me? First off, we make joint decisions about most things concerning our home. Secondly, I am The Gatekeeper. The Keeper of the Gate. Get it? You’re not going to see the Lord of The House sir, because, quite frankly, as The Gatekeeper, I decide what he has the choice of deciding. Did you follow that? No? Oh too bad. Also, he does not subscribe to anything presented in the door-to-door format. Ever. So you’re wasting your time. You won’t be seeing the Wizard. Not today. Not ever. Now be gone, before someone drops a house on you too.”

And with that, I shut the door.

My name is Karen Rani, and I am an asshole magnet. If you don’t believe I said all that to him, ask Sassy. She was on the phone with me at the time. Booyah.

Oh and guess what else?

This:

I adore Dooce, so this is pretty cool.

Double motherfucking booyah.

Don’t forget to get your picture requests in here! I’ll start posting them next week!

Without Giving Anything Away…

family

Don’t tell Daren, but I’m over here today.

I’m thinking Father’s Day might include what I’m writing about over there.? Maybe.? I mean, it requires walking.? Outdoors.? Hmph.

The FRIKKEN WEGOS!!

June 14, 2006 family

“I love myself

I want you to love me

When I’m feelin’ down

I want you above me”

“Hey baby. Your bangs are fierce! Want me to show you my bangs?”

“Dude. Now I KNOW you ain’t hittin’ on my Shawty!”

“Naw man. My sheep. Is that a Unibrow?”

“He’s hittin’ on his sheep?”

“Want me to pluck your eyebrow?”

“What? I’m trying out for Yogabeans!”

“I search myself

I want you to find me

I forget myself

I want you to remind me”

“Is it true about you and Bob the Builder? I’ll cut him.”

“Stay away from Bob. He isn’t after your sheep. Except maybe to teach it Scientology. In which case I will kick his face in, with my ONE GIANT FOOT.”

“Like this.”

“OW! Why do you have to be such a motherfucker?”

“So sheep, Scientology is the only way to go. But you have to be silent during sheep birth.”

“Baaaa!”

“No sheep. Silence. Stop talking sounds.”

Bob’s Death Goes Unnoticed by Everyone except the Flower Delivery Boy.

“Ow! My CROTCH!”

Bob’s big drill is finally silent.

Did you wike da Wego Show?

A is for Agua, and Another Annoying Aging Abigail

Me, Unplugged

In my ongoing quest for a healthy body, (with Jenny at Big Slice,) I have been drinking about 2 Litres of water a day. (That’s about 64 ounces for ya’ll who don’t use metric) The day before yesterday I drank a litre of water before bedtime, and I was up 3 times in the night. Hey, I’m new at this.

Yesterday while drinking from my snazzy new 2.2 Litre Jug with the Canadian Flag, I was attempting to get some work done and ended up in the washroom 8 times in about 5 hours. Then I wasn’t hungry for dinner, but did manage some spinach salad and pasta. Speaking of salad, it’s a daily thing around here - I loves me some salad and I’ve been trying out all kinds of salads and vegetarian things just to keep the excitement of eating healthy going. Asparagus! Woo! Veggie Shish-Ka-Bobs! Yippee! Roasted Red Pepper, Grilled Mushroom and Sweet Onion Alfredo (made with light parm cheese and light cream!) Yeah! I made that recipe up in my head! It was DAMN GOOD THOUGH!

I feel fat this morning. It’s been 9 days since I last weighed myself and I’m dreading it. I mean, last night was that pasta dish, I’ve eaten breakfast this morning, and I’m pretty sure my PMS is kicking in, so I’m waiting until Monday.

On top of the fear of the scale, I can’t seem to make myself get out walking. Moving. I was thinking about my age and maybe doing that many crunches, push ups and minutes on my eliptical or walking outdoors. I was also thinking my bike needs a tune up and even bought Troll Baby a helmet so he could ride in the seat on my bike. Daren can’t do the tune up until the weekend, so there’s one of many excuses for not moving. Why can’t I seem to get motivated? Is anyone else having this problem? I need to stop thinking and get off my ass.

Remember this bullshit with the lady in the Wal-mart? Well yesterday I went to one of those bag-your-own groceries grocery stores, because I was already in the area dropping off rented movies and needed the ingredients for that kick-ass pasta. I got a bunch of other stuff we didn’t need and wait patiently while the older lady ahead of me in line blocks the path to pay for my load while she bags her groceries. The cashier finishes scanning my purchases and asks me how many bags. I told her to take her best guess since I never go to that store.

“I think four should do it,” she says.

“Okay,” I say, “You’re the expert!”

Nosy Lady ahead of me pipes up, “FOUR?! You’ll need at least EIGHT!” she scoffs.

I put my hand to my forehead. Do I have “Abuse me in any store,” written on my face somewhere?

The cashier looks at me, “They are pretty big bags.”

You’re not kidding honey, you should have seen the one I ran into at Wal-mart.

“Four is fine,” I reply.

“You’re braver than me! I KNOW you will need at least eight,” says Nosy Lady, looking down her nose at me. She is still blocking the aisle so I have to reach at least 18 feet to punch my pin number into the keypad.

Quit talking and bag your crap so I can get through. Have all the older ladies in this city been taken over by nasty aliens with extensive shopping knowledge? Is menopause the new epidemic? Has Viagra halted production? WTF?

She finally moves and I quickly (and quite easily) bag up my stuff, which only fills 3 and a half bags. I thank the cashier again and head for the car.

Guess who’s parked beside me? Yep. And she is WATCHING ME. I strap Troll Baby into his carseat and pop the trunk. Nosy Lady begins to back up her car and she says, “Pffft. You did it. Were you trying to PROVE A POINT?”

Oh my God. Yes. It is my life’s mission to prove everyone around me wrong about trivial things. Can you believe this?

“Nooooo, I was trying to get my groceries. You’re the one who butted your nose in and made a huge deal over a few plastic bags. Give me a break!”

“Well you put those bags in the trunk two by two, probably so I could see that I was wrong.”

Are you kidding me Lady?

“Are you kidding me Lady?”

She drove off in a huff. I’m seriously thinking I should start wearing earplugs and horse blinders when I shop. Maybe a shirt that says “Don’t talk to me. I bite.” And maybe I should start participating in Fuck Off and Die Thursday, along with T Stop, Miss Ann Thrope and others. I certainly have a few weeks building up here. Do these things happen in threes?

Don’t forget to get your requests for pictures in here!

Picture Requests!

June 13, 2006 BlogPants

I got this idea from Rockstar Mommy, who got it from KristyK, who got it from Zoot, who got it from…..whoever! Whatever! Let’s do this!

All you need to do is leave a comment below, letting me know what you would like to see. I love taking pics, so let me show you what you’re curious about! The inside of my fridge? My veggie garden? My computer workstation? I’m not posting anything I’m uncomfortable with, but most stuff should be okay. Also, feel free to do this same thing on your blog - I think it’s lots of fun!

Let ‘er rip! What would you like to see a picture of?

Pinching Pretty Pennies

June 12, 2006 BlogPants

Do you know Mir? You know her, she’s the one who calls everyone pretty. When I first started designing her new blog, Want Not, she kept calling me pretty in nearly every email. I thought it was sweet, and it made me feel good. Really good. I started spending more time at the mirror. I plucked my eyebrows to perfection, and made modeling poses in the grocery store window. Mir, I feel like a woman…..

Well I started reading her personal blog, Woulda Coulda Shoulda and I quickly realized, I wasn’t the only pretty one. She was even calling other women pretty at BlogHer.

I felt used.

Violated.

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