tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56985341107924449292024-03-05T17:02:19.177-08:00The Twisted Mummy ChroniclesOut numbered 3 (boys) to 1 (me), this girl's gotta represent.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-80171094242142039762012-08-12T17:20:00.000-07:002012-08-12T17:20:01.416-07:00I've been away, but now I'm back!Well hello again....<br />
<br />
It's been a number of months since I've posted anything on my blog. There have been some changes in my life that kind of put me into a funk.<br />
<br />
I got laid off.<br />
<br />
Yeah, boo hoo, so do other folks. Well I'm not other folks. I felt like I was going to grow old at my company. Sixteen years there and I thought I was safe. Not so. Thanks for your hard work, but see you later.<br />
<br />
My entire team fought like nobody's business to keep me there and I truly love and miss them. I've never worked with a better bunch of people!!<br />
<br />
My 16 years came with a nice package, so all's okay for a while but still...<br />
<br />
So onto other things - no sense in dwelling in a funk - hence here I write again.<br />
<br />
I was lucky to get a contract job with an org a month after D Day. And they want me until the end of August, so I'm counting my lucky stars.<br />
<br />
Also, now would be the time to look at other opportunities, right?<br />
<br />
For over a year, I've been thinking about becoming a Stella and Dot Stylist (I procrastinate on things a bit). What better time to do this then now. I can do this part time while still doing the traditional office job too.<br />
<br />
So I suppose I'm looking for advice. Should I do the Stella and Dot thing? I love fashion so it makes sense, right? It's pretty low risk.<br />
<br />
My biggest wall is myself really. Do I have the confidence to do this? I think I do. I seriously think this is something I should do on the side.<br />
<br />
I don't want to find myself suddenly 80 years old and "I wish I had done that...."<br />
<br />
Well anyway, perhaps you'll see more of me and Stella and Dot.<br />
<br />
Wish me luck... :DTwisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-13735882102320038062012-05-03T12:46:00.000-07:002012-05-03T12:46:19.671-07:00Spelling test, provincial capitals, and an unfortunate city nameYesterday M had a playdate with a friend. As both boys are in the same class, they get the same spelling words.<br />
<br />
Before the playdate was about to end, I decided to quiz them both on their spelling words. The words were Canadian provinces and their capitals.<br />
<br />
So it went something like this...<br />
<br />
British Columbia - <em>boys get busy writing on their papers</em><br />
<br />
Victoria - <em>tongues hanging out in concentration</em><br />
<br />
Ottawa, Ontario, Edmonton, Alberta, and so on we went.<br />
<br />
Saskatchewan - <em>okay, ready for the next word, I ask?</em><br />
<br />
Regina - ....<em>sniggers and snorts coming from my child</em><br />
<br />
They say the word again and "look" at each other and burst out laughing.<br />
<br />
<em>V-Regina</em> blurts out my kid.<br />
<br />
<em>That's a girl part, ahahaha, hee hee, V-Regina...!</em><br />
<br />
Oh boy.<br />
<br />
Okay funny, haha. Yes, Regina sounds like Vagina. And I'm sure every resident of Regina has heard it before three times over.<br />
<br />
I can just imagine the spelling test today at school and all the boys erupting in giggles when the teacher says Regina...Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-86135855268499921562012-04-18T19:22:00.000-07:002012-04-18T19:22:58.864-07:00Push-up FailNo not the exercise kind...good lord no!!<br />
<br />
Bra!<br />
<br />
So today I was leaving work and while I was walking past the underground parking entrance outside the building, suddenly, POP!<br />
<br />
Apart came my bra hook (front clip), happily parting both cups, one to my left, the other to my right.<br />
<br />
Uhm, okay. I kind of flinched a bit in recognition of what just happened out in public.<br />
<br />
And of course, I've got no way/where to fix this minor undergarment malfunction.<br />
<br />
My only saving grace...okay two saving graces...is that 1) I had on three layers including my rain jacket so nobody would ever know, and 2) I'm pretty teeny in the boobage area so ...which sort of begs the question, why would I bother with a bra anyway?<br />
<br />
The precise moment of unsnap-pop happened to be also when our President was exiting the underground, and saw me and we waved to each other.<br />
<br />
I'm hoping that he didn't really see my sudden wide-eyed look of "oh crap", thinking that it had something to do with him.<br />
<br />
So I remained, technically, braless throughout the entire bus ride home.<br />
<br />
Time to buy a new bra, I'm thinking.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-54573606311897095082012-04-17T18:39:00.000-07:002012-04-17T18:39:42.555-07:00Where did all these idiots come from?Watching the evening news this evening, there were two stories that had me wondering out loud "How can you be so stupid? You have to be an absolute moron...??? Speechless"<br />
<br />
The first story was of a Vancouver Island motorcycle rider who decided it would be cool to film his bike going 300 KM/H on an Island highway, then - get this - post it to Youtube!<br />
<br />
What would possess you to think that you would never be caught? Or that the police would just look this over and not pursue looking for you and pressing criminal charges?<br />
<br />
You f%&king moron. Your reaction time to any potential obstacles (sudden lane change of a car perhaps?) has dropped to the levels of "never going to happen" when you drive at that speed.<br />
<br />
And not to mention, for those of you reading this, that idiot could cause an accident that you or a loved one could be involved in and potentially killed in.<br />
<br />
The other story, not quite so dangerous, but stupid nonetheless, came out of Kelowna. A bunch of grade 12 students (and I gather they do this every year), decked themselves out in balaclavas and toy guns and proceeded to go and kidnap their friends (at "gun" point). Of course this alerted the citizens who see masked men, with guns, in the dark, forcing someone into a car, so they call the police.<br />
<br />
Really? What happened to hanging a VW Beetle over a bridge (or the school like we did). No gun, no face masks, just an obvious prank that does not mislead anybody and get the cops involved (and away from real crime).<br />
<br />
I don't know. Maybe it's old age now. Any idiotic behaviour makes me wonder what class of society gave birth to these goons. I know, harsh, but if they can risk our lives, then they are lower class as far as I'm concerned.<br />
<br />
Go find a safer hobby people!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-48288847302518917262012-03-31T21:41:00.000-07:002012-03-31T21:41:02.580-07:00Things I HateJust random peeves...<br />
<br />
1) When my sock(s) slowly creep their way off my heal and toward the front of my foot. I hate it even more when I'm wearing long boots and can't fix the situation quickly.<br />
<br />
2) That hardened semi-dried plug of moisturizer (soap, lotion, etc.) that prevents the moisturizer (soap, lotion, etc.) from coming out but then finally dislodges with a squelch, followed by more-than-you-needed-in-the-first-place moisturizer (soap, lotion, etc.).<br />
<br />
3) When there are PLENTY of free double seats on the bus and the next passenger to board JUST HAS TO sit beside me.<br />
<br />
4) When there are PLENTY of parking spots all over the place and someone JUST HAS TO park right beside me.<br />
<br />
5) When some arse thinks his Nissan Pathfinder is small enough to fit into a parking spot specifically designed for a Smart Car (because it actually says "Smart Car" on the spot), so I, in the Smart Car, has to find a different spot specifically made for a vehicle the size of a Nissan Pathfinder. What...?<br />
<br />
6) When the TV listings states that a specific show is on at that time on four different channels, but in fact something completely different is on all four of those channels (and I've been waiting all week to watch that show)<br />
<br />
7) When I go to my bottle of red wine to pour myself a glass only to find it empty. Like who leaves an empty bottle of wine on the counter...? Oh me.<br />
<br />
8) When I've just started to snuggle down in to an "almost-sleep-oh-so-cozy-sleep-is-almost-here" then I realize I have to pee and I have to get up out of my oh-so-cozy state.<br />
<br />
9) Getting schooled by the little red squiggly lines that keep appearing under various words I type, that are telling me I've spelled the word wrong...and the fact that it takes me a while to figure out what's wrong with the word.<br />
<br />
10) Bullies. Totally HATE them!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-12923475723088612832012-03-20T20:16:00.006-07:002012-03-20T20:25:38.412-07:00...or you know what will happen...!<div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I say it all the time to my boys.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">…or you know what will happen…!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">What in the name of God is going to actually happen?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Get your pj’s on now or you know what will happen” – <em>Ice Age part two?</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Get your dirty clothes off the floor or you know what will happen” – <em>the planets will collide?</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Finish your dinner now or you know what will happen” – <em>aliens finally invade Earth?</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Get your teeth brushed now or you know what will happen” – <em>they all fall out? Hardly.</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Get your sneakers away from the front door and into your room, or you know what will happen” – <em>well that's obvious, isn't it...??</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Brush your hair or you know what will happen. You look homeless” – <em>they go to school looking homeless. They’re boys, they don’t care.</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Pick your wet towel up off the hardwood floor and hang it up or you know what will happen” – <em>Mom will pick it up eventually…score one for the kid(s).</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Turn the TV off now or you know what will happen” – <em>your brain will eventually explode from Storage Wars marathon and guess who will have to clean it all up?</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Turn the computer off now or you know what will happen” – <em>the above, if you’ve already survived 24 episodes of Storage Wars in row and your brain is still in its case.</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Stop picking your nose or you know what will happen” – <em>uhm, your head will cave in??</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Stop making that face, or you know what will happen. If the wind changes, it will stay that way” – <em>cool, wait until my friends see it… epic fail for Mom.</em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Parents, we need to come up with a new plan!</span></span></div></div>Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-2618881103282245962012-03-14T19:20:00.000-07:002012-03-14T19:20:02.993-07:00How to escape a speeding ticketBased on true events.<br />
<br />
This happened to me today.<br />
<br />
In my whole entire life of driving a car, I've never had a speeding ticket. I've never even come close.<br />
<br />
I've been very lucky because I do tend to be a fast driver. I'm certainly not timid behind the wheel.<br />
<br />
So I got caught driving down Fell Ave. going 60 K in a 30 K zone. Oops, double the speed limit.<br />
<br />
I saw the cop walk out to the centre of the road, point to me, and in a dramatic fashion, swing his stick straight arm with pointed finger over towards the side of the road (aka, pull the heck over, I've just caught you).<br />
<br />
<em>Holy crap moment, heart starts to beat faster.</em> Make sure I pull over correctly<em> - right indicator on (OMG the brake lights better be working), pull over to the curb. Turn the engine off (not sure if you're really supposed to do that but I did), role down the window...</em>then put on the show.<br />
<br />
<strong>Cop:</strong> Ma'am, hello. What's the rush?<br />
<strong>Me: </strong><em>Getting the tears on</em> - My Dad's in the hospital <em>(explain a little more of his condition to the cop)</em>, and I have to get my kids...<br />
<strong>Cop:</strong> Your Dad's in the Hospital? That's where you're going?<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Yes. Look, I understand your position. I take total responsibility. You need to do what you have to.<br />
<strong>Cop: </strong>You were going 60 K in the 30 zone. You can't do that.<br />
<strong>Me: </strong>I'm so sorry. I understand<br />
<strong>Cop:</strong> Alright Ma'am. You can go. Just please be careful.<br />
<strong>Me: </strong>Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.<br />
<br />
Drive off V E R Y S L O W L Y...<em>(look, see, I'm a good driver...)</em><br />
<br />
Nearly run a red light that's just ahead <em>(God I hope he wasn't looking)</em>.<br />
<br />
He wasn't.<br />
<br />
And that's how you escape a speeding ticket.<br />
<br />
BTW, the whole Dad thing was no lie. He's doing okay right now, but still in a lot of pain. I'm not getting into details.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-4637998047735248912012-03-10T20:04:00.001-08:002012-03-10T20:16:29.010-08:00Tummy Grumblies in C Minor<div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My stomach rumbles and growls all the time. It especially likes to do this when there is silence all around me.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Like when the bus makes its scheduled stop in Edgemont Village, the driver kills the engine, the silence hangs in the air...until my stomach interrupts the silence <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(oh God, please, not now!)</span></em>.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Deep, gurgling surround sound that is epically embarrassing, erupting from deep within my gut...just because <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(shuffling around in my seat hoping to make other noise to drown out the sound)</span></em>.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I’m not sure why my stomach does this. It’s not…you know… gas <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(no really, it isn't)</span></em> or anything. It just makes noise very loudly <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(I think I need to look for something in my purse - shuffle, shuffle - zipping open and closed very loudly to drown out tummy sounds)</span></em>.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My stomach always grumbled in school, especially high school, during exams…you know, when the only sound in the room was other kids erasing pencil marks, shuffling papers, clearing throats…and my stomach <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(oh dear lord, the classroom echos and everybody probably thinks I'm farting)</span></em>.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My God, embarrassing!</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My Mother, and Grandmother’s stomachs both erupted almost on-demand. Maybe this is hereditary.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I’ve laid on the ground and my boys have put their ears on my stomach…and laughed hysterically at the free concert.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I’m not sure why I feel the need to share this. Perhaps it’s just because it’s one of those strange things that our bodies do, and perhaps I’m not the only person who has a musical tummy.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I can tell you this. It's absolutely embarrassing<span style="font-size: x-small;"><em> (why God, why??)</em></span>.</span></span></div></div>Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-90348732327628150122012-03-05T17:39:00.000-08:002012-03-05T17:39:24.080-08:00Major Accomplishment TodayToday, I accomplished something great. Something so extraordinary, that I found myself patting my own self on the back.<br />
<br />
Something so huge, I found myself saying to myself, "Self, you done good today, I'm real proud of you!"<br />
<br />
Something that I've been trying to do for a very long time, but could never quite get there. You know that thing that keeps itself just out of reach you think you'll never catch it, or face it, or become one with it?<br />
<br />
Well I did it. I owned it today, yes I did. And I feel like shouting from the rooftops as loudly as I can...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>I STOPPED THE GAS PUMP AT <u>EXACTLY</u> $50.00!</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>NOT $50.01! NOT $50.02!</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>BUT AT $50.00 EXACTLY.</strong></span></div><br />
I know, you feel it too. Isn't it great? I just can't help but smile. I OWNED that gas pump today. I stopped that b&tch at $50.00 exactly.<br />
<br />
I showed it who's boss!!!!<br />
<br />
For many gas tank fill ups, that pump has taken advantage of me, adding in those extra few cents. No matter how quickly I move my hands - pull, release, pull, release, pull, release - the frustration was starting to get to me.<br />
<br />
Score one for the Mom today!<br />
<br />
Gas pump had the last laugh because I drove off before shutting the gas flap on the car...DOH!!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-64095696702032751462012-02-18T17:16:00.000-08:002012-02-18T17:16:51.499-08:00MISSING - Three SocksMissing for two weeks and 5 laundry cycles, these three socks are nowhere to be seen and their partners are very lonely.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEyXJ7YwzxHva0Fbw-mVCQk6LGA4d-RFu_-D2EBjM_mbxrpXx7TgWpAP4BfOuEpor_QBlOR4VKtxcartx_S6sdRbCowWci64Qr5xYQqGb31rmg5-Z9Xbd50x9ZTcuqtGTuZR3uKltMqw/s1600/SAM_0365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEyXJ7YwzxHva0Fbw-mVCQk6LGA4d-RFu_-D2EBjM_mbxrpXx7TgWpAP4BfOuEpor_QBlOR4VKtxcartx_S6sdRbCowWci64Qr5xYQqGb31rmg5-Z9Xbd50x9ZTcuqtGTuZR3uKltMqw/s320/SAM_0365.JPG" width="320" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
All efforts have been made to find the three missing socks. All chairs, couches, sofas, beds, laundry baskets, toy baskets, pockets, cupboards, shelves, bags, vehicles, appliances, etc. have been searched thoroughly. But no trace of the missing foot covers have been found.<br />
<br />
The three sock partners have been keeping vigil on the living room table for two weeks...and they know that they are not part of the living room decor, therefore, would really like to be matched up and stuffed back into the drawer next to the knickers that they really, really miss.<br />
<br />
If found, please return to their rightful owner...she REALLY wants to fold them up and put them away where they belong for good.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-12731629137188419732012-02-10T15:55:00.000-08:002012-02-10T15:55:08.804-08:00Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean I turned 40 twiceThe night before my birthday I left with the hubs (who also shares the same birthday...really) for Hawaii.<br />
<br />
I love flying and everything about air travel. But in my overly (probably unnecessary) kind-of-upset'ed'ness-about-getting-older obsession, I could not help but notice...<br />
<br />
My seat belt - And how small it was from the previous passenger. I normally have to cinch it in to fit because someone bigger was just in the seat. But this trip (my holy crap I'm 40 trip), nope. I had to make that thing BIGGER! So automatically I assume some skinny young thing was last in there...Bitch. Life sucks, shoot me now.<br />
<br />
Then comes the I-drank-a-bottle-of-water-before-boarding oopsy that came back to say hello half an hour in. This plane configuration has a small aisle just big enough to accommodate my rear without turning sideways to avoid knocking people with it (and I do not have a big rear!)<br />
<br />
So genius me took the window seat which meant that I had to climb over hubby in the middle, and our aging row companion in the aisle to hit the loo. If I don't hit the loo, game over if I sneeze, or we hit turbulence.<br />
<br />
My luck is that on the way back to the seat, bevvy service has started and the bevvy cart is just before my row so that I can't access it. I had to stand there with my butt head-level with the two occupied aisle seats for about 5 minutes waiting to pass. Air travel can give me gas...you get the picture. That was a long 5 minutes!<br />
<br />
However, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, January 26 turned into January 27, and I turned 40. Then we hit a time zone and we went back two hours and I pulled a Benjamin Button and turned 39 again.<br />
<div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2aVf6vKu2HlmUn9yPWUWzRbxzE65dvIg74uHSnbkr8Okv7WJI6JhVyflZwOyDtZeq8ArX22aWCJjcMMjeKnHGf37-qr18s83afxl516vCw_mg6gd_4Uf3Z-q9iN653Mf7bCJWolIAc94/s1600/airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2aVf6vKu2HlmUn9yPWUWzRbxzE65dvIg74uHSnbkr8Okv7WJI6JhVyflZwOyDtZeq8ArX22aWCJjcMMjeKnHGf37-qr18s83afxl516vCw_mg6gd_4Uf3Z-q9iN653Mf7bCJWolIAc94/s320/airport.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div>Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-35724972250914070422012-01-27T10:00:00.000-08:002012-01-27T10:00:02.628-08:00Okay, so now that I'm 40...offish!Today is my birthday and it sucks! Boo.<br />
<br />
As I’ve been getting older, I have noticed certain things happening with my body that were really uninvited if truth be told.<br />
<br />
Of course having children has not helped. As a co-worker put so bluntly, one reason she does not want children is because she does not want her stomach lying beside her on the bed when she herself is lying ON HER SIDE on the bed. BAHAHAHAH, that hasn’t happened to me…*blushing*.<br />
<br />
The girls need the help of that Secret that only Victoria knows to keep them from falling half way down my rib cage!<br />
<br />
Gray hair has sprouted and I colour every three months or so. Thankfully my hair is still silky smooth, not wiry as I’m prone to think it's supposed to go when you get older.<br />
<br />
I’ve seen a couple of sun spots on the tops of my hands. After all, they are exposed pretty much all day, every day to the elements.<br />
<br />
If I go on the trampoline, or play Just Dance on the Wii with the boys, I have to make sure I’ve peed first!<br />
<br />
I’ve become judgy about everything and everyone. My Grandfather was judgy. I’m turning into a judgy old person who will have no issue with looking a person in the face and saying “those are the wrong shoes for that outfit” and “Yes, your but does look big in that outfit!”<br />
<br />
I can now look at a handsome 50 year old man and think, "Nice" (15 years ago that would have been totally icky). On the other hand if I do the same now for say, the likes of Taylor Lautner (definitely team Jacob), it probably seems wrong.<br />
<br />
Staying up past 9:00 pm is like total party animal for me. On the other hand, getting up at 5:15 am in the morning is WAY easier than it was during my 20s.<br />
<br />
But of course now comes the dreaded “scan” in a place where the sun don’t shine! Family history has now become a reality and I now need to ensure my health. I’m sure I’ll do a separate blog on this magical event because the "scan" was made to make fun of.<br />
<br />
Having a January birthday used to mean I could drive a car before my friends. I was also legal age first and could buy booze. I’d be the first person to call on for babysitting because I was older.<br />
<br />
Now having a birthday at the beginning of the year means everything on flip side will fall to me first.<br />
<br />
I’ll be first to have to reluctantly give up my license. I’ll be the first to have to give up booze because I’m on some sort of old person pill and it will react to the booze. I’ll be the first who needs a young person to now look after me.<br />
<br />
Humbug!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-11089449120947695092012-01-23T19:13:00.000-08:002012-01-23T19:13:50.041-08:00My 70s and 80s - Yes I'm Suffering from O. L. D.<div class="WordSection1"><div class="MsoNormal">I’m a product of the 70s. I never pictured the day, way back when, that I would turn 40. I thought 40 was old! Now I’m leaving my 30s behind forever and I’m not too sure how I feel about it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So what better way to get totally depressed than to reminisce about the things I loved about the late 70s and 80s. I don’t like to reminisce for too long because it’ll just put me into a depressed funk where I try to bury said funk in chocolate and wine. Chocolate and wine tend to hang around my mid-section longer these days compared to when I was in my 20s – depressing me more.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Speaking of wine, I had an affection for it early on....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNK7FlP66_C-kqZVu2VsWQkhgtnu2VB65cmqF9ex75EFyF4NySSZ10RyYZdzejsLY2E9hkWsPgV5UqAG5o26JIDK4TeFRc6D1xqs6a70CEZV0vAASe_BF5rHqRWQO9M_7WW1i9OaEeMHk/s1600/IMG_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNK7FlP66_C-kqZVu2VsWQkhgtnu2VB65cmqF9ex75EFyF4NySSZ10RyYZdzejsLY2E9hkWsPgV5UqAG5o26JIDK4TeFRc6D1xqs6a70CEZV0vAASe_BF5rHqRWQO9M_7WW1i9OaEeMHk/s320/IMG_0002.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So here goes…things I grew up loving:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>My Cabbage Patch Doll</strong> – I was lucky enough to get one of these (<em>or I should say my parents were lucky enough to leave the store with all limbs attached carrying one. Much like riots getting into Apple Stores for the latest gadget, parents did the same to get these dolls. Many people were trampled in the process</em>). Mine is named Alberta Louisa and I’m pretty sure she’s still around somewhere.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>The Smurf’s cartoon</strong> – Kind of like Phineas and Ferb today, the Smurfs were yester’year. I loved Smurfette because she was a little blue diva.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>The movie Flashdance</strong> – I think like most girls, we desperately tried to replicate those dance moves in the privacy of our bedrooms. However, for me this ended in epic failure. I can’t dance! Also, that sloppy-off-the-shoulder sweater and red heals that Jennifer Beals wore were totally hot!!!!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>The Walkman</strong> – OMG, I thought I was so cool and hip sporting my Walkman with large headphones. I’d stock up on my favourite music cassette tapes (<em>yes cassette tapes</em>) and play them until the battery (<em>yes battery</em>) died. Then I’d have to go to the store to buy a new battery and do the whole thing again. The concept of rechargeable wasn’t quite there yet.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>And speaking of music</strong> – My faves were Duran Duran, A-ha, Depeche Mode, Culture Club, early Madonna, and yes, ABBA….oh oh oh and Platinum Blonde.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>Acid Wash Jeans</strong> – These horrid creations thankfully did not last long. But I did own a pair and unlike pants of today, they were worn above the belly button because that was the fashion then!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>The Hair Scrunchie</strong> – Yes that material covered hair elastic, in various shades, that added lots of volume to your pony tail. I owned quite a few.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>Friendship Pins</strong> – As in safety pin!!! You’d ever so slightly unbend the end curl to allow small beads onto it and then trade them with friends and display them on your acid wash denim jackets. Ack!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">These were totally IN!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeMc3e9io90lYvEieAMvXZ4VVuxfeJ9Wssel5TqFF3teo7aZ-0tbjhsmQG79ObAZy5KAoO8ihxz9gdYUvw9MfKneJqu0AvwT91b_PfVbwLOOcf2fp47VU_KPL8udIbqwkX6a9vT6oY2A/s1600/friendship_pins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeMc3e9io90lYvEieAMvXZ4VVuxfeJ9Wssel5TqFF3teo7aZ-0tbjhsmQG79ObAZy5KAoO8ihxz9gdYUvw9MfKneJqu0AvwT91b_PfVbwLOOcf2fp47VU_KPL8udIbqwkX6a9vT6oY2A/s1600/friendship_pins.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong>Life Cereal’s Mikey</strong> – "<em>He likes it, Hey Mikey"</em>. Mikey was a little boy who was a very picky eater (<em>like the supposed target market</em>), but he loved Life Cereal, and therefore, so will your picky little eaters! <strong><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYEXzx-TINc">See the commercial here</a></strong>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><em>"Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun"</em>. If you’re old like me, you know what I’m talking about. You also know who Hamburgler and Grimmace are!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><em>“Boss, Boss, de’plane, de’plane"</em>. Again, you know who I’m talking about.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I may as well end on a fun note. Here's one of my favourite Platinum Blonde songs because some things <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4SOnBDe7qs"><strong>Don't Really Matter</strong></a></div></div>Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-20045162581422637262012-01-17T19:00:00.000-08:002012-01-17T19:00:19.055-08:00New Year's Resolutions...I'm so on them!A few New Year's Resolutions that I could take on...if I really felt like it.<br />
<br />
Maybe...if I feel like it.<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Pick up the iron and iron...again. I tried this one last year and didn't get too far. I hate ironing</li>
<li>Drop the chocolate altogether. I don't really think I can do this, no matter how many cleanses I do. I still NEED my chocolate</li>
<li>Speaking of cleanses, I should probably cleanse. I've eaten so much crap. But the problem is I'd go right back to eating garbage I'm sure</li>
<li>Give up wine for a bit...not going to happen</li>
<li>Wash the makeup off my face at night before I go bed...too lazy to do that but I probably should anyway</li>
<li>Use up my hair products before I buy new ones. Too late. I've already bought new ones in the New Year. They're shoved up next to the existing ones (I've got to use this crap up)</li>
<li>Buy more shoes...and Check!!!</li>
<li>I don't smoke, so check!</li>
<li>Exercise more...when it stops raining...I live in Vancouver so...nope!</li>
</ul>Does anybody stick to resolutions anyway?Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-77055968350482389862012-01-04T19:28:00.000-08:002012-01-04T19:28:48.059-08:00Duck!!! TicTacs are flying...out of my mouth and no kidding.<br />
<br />
I was on the bus the other day and when I sat down, I pulled out my TicTacs and popped two into my mouth.<br />
<br />
After sucking these two <em>just-in-case-I-have-to-talk-to-someone-next-to-me</em> mints to about half their size, I felt a sneeze coming on.<br />
<br />
Anybody who has sneezed with food in their mouths knows what happens - you get food all over your hand (if you're kind enough to cover your mouth).<br />
<br />
Because I was on the bus and I had touched railings on it, I didn't want to touch my mouth. So I held my hand up and hovered it over my mouth....then sneezed.<br />
<br />
And one of the TicTacs shot out of my mouth at about 300 miles per hour and pinballed about the seats, railings, and storage shelves, before landing somewhere to my right.<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, it also made a pinging sound as it bounced around all over the place.<br />
<br />
I kid you not. This really happened. Have you ever seen the colour of a beet, so to speak? That was my face!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-38570448926227224892012-01-02T19:13:00.000-08:002012-01-02T19:13:40.370-08:00Me and a glass of red wine, standing on a white carpet...So that title probably tells you exactly where this is going, and you'd be right.<br />
<br />
You can dress me up, you can even take me out, but don't let me talk animatedly with a glass of red wine in my hand while standing on a white carpet, in a very expensive part of Vancouver, in a very expensive house belonging to people who can afford to hire a coat check girl, appy waiters, and cooks for the party.<br />
<br />
Gar'on'teed I'll spill the wine on the carpet.<br />
<br />
And gar'on'teed I'll try to pretend that it didn't happen, while discreetly trying to find a napkin and clean up the wine that is dripping down my pinky, onto the base of the glass, and again, onto the white carpet.<br />
<br />
I mean, come'on. Who has a white carpet?? That's asking for a disaster to happen. And I'm the disaster that will happen.<br />
<br />
I'm fairly sure my face went three shades of red during this pathetic show of grace.<br />
<br />
What I did see during the later part of the night was someone cleaning up another part of the carpet with ginger ale. A part of the carpet that I was not standing anywhere near, thank you very much. So there!!! I guess I'm not the only clutz!<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, know what? I DIDN'T get any wine on my dress. BOOM!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-90855435768040804072011-12-20T13:51:00.000-08:002011-12-20T13:51:34.724-08:00Admittance by Donation<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><em>Park & Tilford Garden's Christmas Lights</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Or if you’re my family and myself, admittance-by-just-walking-right-on-in-without-donating-a-darn-thing-because-you-never-saw-the-stupid-sign that said “Admission by Donation”.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Of course I didn’t see the <strike>large</strike> sign that said “Donation” because I was too busy trying to <strike>be all purdy to the cute North Vancouver District Firemen who were manning the friggin donation box</strike>… <strike>keep my boys on a leash</strike>…ogling the firemen!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">‘Scuze me but I didn’t see the box because it was placed behind four cute firemen and I was trying to figure out what they looked like underneath their getup!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So barrel-on-in we did because we had one mission (and apparently it was not to donate anything). We were going to play hide and seek, in the dark, in the gardens, surrounded by Christmas lights, me, the boys, my Mom and sister.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So play hide and seek we did, like we do every year. Two teams walking around the Christmas-light-decked-out-garden trying to spy on each other without getting into too much trouble or knocking too many people over.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">All the while my Dad took pictures:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAK0AKZodohuot-LIeRVGaUBgBfoo_tPiu707Pv40RSVqG9Sg47AsBIRrAjYmf83l0xnQdDOO20d5r_MNnIkhaR2OBpYZf9ib1oySYGqim93HL2iWmzxFUguGrCXIC5h8E-p2hU1ad1nw/s1600/pandt4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAK0AKZodohuot-LIeRVGaUBgBfoo_tPiu707Pv40RSVqG9Sg47AsBIRrAjYmf83l0xnQdDOO20d5r_MNnIkhaR2OBpYZf9ib1oySYGqim93HL2iWmzxFUguGrCXIC5h8E-p2hU1ad1nw/s320/pandt4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_IKKSUEGgXL3Vs0LyTdHGgWfYZCQV8Q0WkA2QEqw_UVaFTgyTF1xdBvZr20vuZKeWkGvDV1wC4CMWMQGsuL8YTvCCOrmy_AAfSFUS3x6Cjl2R_tDdMrZj8Teh5Hc1Gjgs8KDRCrWs5Xw/s1600/pandt3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_IKKSUEGgXL3Vs0LyTdHGgWfYZCQV8Q0WkA2QEqw_UVaFTgyTF1xdBvZr20vuZKeWkGvDV1wC4CMWMQGsuL8YTvCCOrmy_AAfSFUS3x6Cjl2R_tDdMrZj8Teh5Hc1Gjgs8KDRCrWs5Xw/s320/pandt3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So upon leaving, for some reason I turned around <strike>for one last look at the firemen</strike>, and I noticed the “Admittance by Donation” sign.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh my God, we’re a bunch of criminals. I can only hope that this truck load of boys <strike>DOES</strike> doesn’t arrive at my house should I need them, and recognize me for the cheapskate I am.</span>Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-44779662095011545192011-12-15T19:55:00.000-08:002011-12-15T19:55:28.993-08:00Obituaries - Alarm ClockAn alarm clock met it's untimely death by being stomped on in a fit of frustrated tired rage this morning.<br />
<br />
For two mornings in a row, said alarm clock didn't "alarm" in the morning, resulting in the Mom waking up way late for work.<br />
<br />
Waking up "way late for work" results in the Mom speeding through morning rituals:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Half-ass hair wash</li>
<li>Underarm soap not being rinsed completely</li>
<li>"Other" soap not being rinsed completely - potential awkward ichfest</li>
<li>Record breaking shower that should have earned a speeding ticket</li>
<li>Forgetting to brush the teeth - thank God for the ancient toothbrush and toothpaste at work</li>
<li>No eye makeup</li>
<li>Speed-drinking the morning coffee - resulting in a stomach cramp</li>
<li>And just generally whacking the Mom's day off kilter</li>
</ul><br />
Alarm clock will not be missed because this is not the first, second, or even sixth time it hasn't "alarmed" in the morning. Alarm clock has earned the nickname "Piece of Shite".<br />
<br />
The funeral was held after work. By funeral the Mom means the zillion little pieces that were the "Piece of Shite" being unceremoniously dumped in the trash.<br />
<br />
Good riddance, Piece of Shite. You will not be missed.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-54703971975868451822011-12-07T13:48:00.000-08:002011-12-07T13:48:13.324-08:00"Oh, the silent majesty of a winter's morn......the clean, cool chill of the holiday air... an asshole in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer."<br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Clark Griswold, staring out his window looking at Eddie empty his RV toilet into the sewer.</span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">Christmas Vacation</span> - probably one of my most favourite Christmas movies ever, ever, ever.<br />
<br />
I try to watch all of the Christmas specials on TV with my kids:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>The original cartoon <em>How the Grinch Stole Christmas</em> - awesome!!</li>
<li><em>Frosty the Snowman</em> - wouldn't be Christmas without him</li>
<li><em>Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer</em> - I sometimes feel like a misfit too</li>
<li><em>It's a Wonderful Life</em> - such an amazing classic movie</li>
<li><em>A Christmas Carol</em> - probably one of my all time faves from when I was a child. The one with George C. Scott is the best</li>
<li><em>The Polar Express</em> - a new favourite added to the list within the last few years. The colours and screenplay are amazing</li>
</ul><br />
But of course, nothing beats Clark Griswold and his antics.<br />
<br />
"Clark, we're stuck under a truck."<br />
<br />
"We were gonna call, but Eddie wanted to make it a surprise"<br />
"If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn't be more surprised than I am right now."<br />
<br />
Happy Griswold!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-46999184589348346542011-11-29T19:32:00.000-08:002011-11-29T19:32:51.798-08:00One goal, one assist and very frozen toesSoccer last Saturday.<br />
<br />
Rainy and wet.<br />
<br />
Complete lack of enthusiasm on my part standing under my umbrella.<br />
<br />
Having a kid who plays soccer does not a soccer Mom make!<br />
<br />
This is the last place I'd rather be on a wet, rainy Saturday morning, freezing my toes on the cold ground.<br />
<br />
Not to mention my gloves are slowly growing wet from blowing rain.<br />
<br />
And then, on my fingers and toes, the Raynaud's starts. Not sure what that is? <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raynaud's_phenomenon">Check it out here</a>. The top left picture is really what my fingers look like.<br />
<br />
The pain starts to become quite severe in my fingers - this is a regular occurrence for me in the wet cold - and concentration on the soccer game slips away.<br />
<br />
"Mom, did you see the goal I just scored?"<br />
<br />
<em>No</em><br />
<br />
"Yeah buddy, it was awesome!!"<br />
<br />
Good lord, will this game ever end. It's all I can do to get blood flowing back to my fingers.<br />
<br />
Into the second half of the game...<br />
<br />
"Mom, I just got an assist, and helped Colin score a goal. Did you see it?"<br />
<br />
<em>No</em><br />
<br />
"Yeah, great job setting him up for a goal!!"<br />
<br />
And this production repeats itself every other Saturday (hubby and I rotate), from Sept, to about April (any amount of cold will set off my Raynaud's). Putting my hand in the freezer section of the grocery store sets it off.<br />
<br />
But every other week I go with the boy to a game. He's a wicked little player but my stupid Raynaud's prevents me from having fun there during the fall and winter months.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, both the boy and myself dove into the hot tub when we got home. Me to warm up. He to sooth his goal scoring 'mooscles'!<br />
<br />
Icing on top - they lost the game :(Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-41488496269730032122011-11-20T14:24:00.000-08:002011-11-20T14:24:16.260-08:00Wet LeavesNot sure if you've seen the Canadian Tire commercials (if you're Canadian anyway) where a family is enjoying frolicking around in their front yard, playing in the leaves on a lovely fall day.<br />
<br />
Let me tell you the reality of leaf frolicking in Vancouver...it doesn't happen.<br />
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS381vJzXi3Vm1kPY-xu8juMizfo5rbW1AmW4zgDI8qwZ43T2qum330uvEA346WOZFERj77ULMZ-E26p59Urc2gp-i1J3NEE5_sOyttRLBhf0_fIM_NyPQqksVrbiO_ok0ZuQHZ-RQiBQ/s1600/leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS381vJzXi3Vm1kPY-xu8juMizfo5rbW1AmW4zgDI8qwZ43T2qum330uvEA346WOZFERj77ULMZ-E26p59Urc2gp-i1J3NEE5_sOyttRLBhf0_fIM_NyPQqksVrbiO_ok0ZuQHZ-RQiBQ/s320/leaves.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
There is no such thing as dry leaf piles in Vancouver.<br />
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In Vancouver, when the leaves start to fall, you know it's time for dreary weather.<br />
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As soon as there's a new layer of leaves on the ground, the rain starts. Rain makes for soggy leaves that you don't play in.<br />
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Once the rain stops, the sun will come out, the temp will drop, and the frost will cover everything outdoors and freeze it to the ground.<br />
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Frozen leaves make for extremely slippy conditions for walking and become Mother Natures death trap and there is no place to avoid them because they haven't been removed from the ground because prior to freezing, the rain has kept people indoors.<br />
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Once the temp goes up a bit, the frozen leaves thaw, but are now in a skeletal condition not worthy of anybody's time to clean up. These leaves leave a permanent brown stain on sidewalks and driveways which will eventually have faded at about the April time frame due to lots of rainfall.<br />
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So no Canadian Tire, we won't be playing in any leaf piles in our yard this season!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-4547696072303895522011-11-13T18:38:00.000-08:002011-11-13T18:39:14.435-08:00When and Where to Apply Your FaceShort answer? Not on the bus or behind the wheel of your car!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzepquMcrsMvW5qrvm_UOvRSHR626JxnDmC-Fg2pyF7gDXEtZRzPpfedJWd0P_faAEAbmHydRTxc9UthkHMCohnfMGRuM7nmKKe9WwfvnSlW3eixTnFgPOdBF93RzGbdufMJMg7v2hOTI/s1600/makup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzepquMcrsMvW5qrvm_UOvRSHR626JxnDmC-Fg2pyF7gDXEtZRzPpfedJWd0P_faAEAbmHydRTxc9UthkHMCohnfMGRuM7nmKKe9WwfvnSlW3eixTnFgPOdBF93RzGbdufMJMg7v2hOTI/s320/makup.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
We've all seen ladies applying their faces while driving, or stopped at a red light. And we all know how stupidly unsafe this is. Not to mention, how accurate can you possibly get with your mascara, etc, while peering into your rear view mirror and driving over man holes.<br />
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But what I see everyday while on the bus are the same two girls putting on their entire faces once they take their seats. Out pops their entire inventory of beauty products and the face-putting-on begins.<br />
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Are you really this unorganized in the morning that you can't take an extra 10 minutes before you leave the house to do this?<br />
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Buses are bumpy, jerky vehicles and it's not uncommon to slip slide in your seat as the driver breaks, speeds up and travels over bumps in the road. How can you possibly be applying your makeup here without stabbing your mascara wand in your eye?<br />
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I can't even apply my own mascara while standing stock still without splotching it on my upper lid . If I even attempted this on the bus, I'd probably impale the person sitting next to me.<br />
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C'mon ladies...do it at home.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-91704141520774441592011-11-04T19:12:00.000-07:002011-11-04T19:12:02.758-07:00How To Apply Uber Skinny JeansWhen I say apply, I don't mean put on over your legs, pull up over your butt and zipper them up. That would mean "putting on a pair of pants".<br />
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No no. Uber Skinny Jeans require a certain procedure in getting into. It's a process that takes certain skill, patience and not much finesse.<br />
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First you have to mentally prepare yourself for this process...physically too <span style="font-size: x-small;">(once on, you can't take off so pee first!)</span><br />
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First step is getting your feet through the one inch foot holes. No small "feet" - ahaha, get it?<br />
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You then have to heave the skin tight denim up and over your knees.<br />
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Once up over the knee area, you then have to shimmy them up to your waist location. You need to do the jiggle-your-butt maneuver in order to place your derriere inside fashion's modern day torture device. This might involve using your own hands to squish and prod your glutes in place. Much like jamming as much clothing into your luggage and trying to close it up.<br />
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At this moment, the Uber Skinnies are still not zippered/bottoned up. This is your last chance to take a nice deep breath with your gut hanging out because this is the last time you'll do it while wedged inside this contraption.<br />
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Now, make sure there's a bed behind you....and fall onto it, on your back, stick straight, legs falling up so that you maintain that perfect linear, straight edged line.<br />
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This is the only way to do up any zippers or buttons. Ladies, you know what I mean!<br />
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Roll onto your side and use your arms to get up off of the bed. You will never be able to bend again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUssxlcghC9SF9-JYckC5R-q7C2ZxUJdWKgVE8tasJ97t1LWqt0g66c5BhxjV7IWlgH-zLtI14gQP5xIXTzBu2TnM5a8pPHQlKayHzmrUCoVsEw8zKLmegrDKbVglQL3v0pHkWIL7qbbk/s1600/106_1951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUssxlcghC9SF9-JYckC5R-q7C2ZxUJdWKgVE8tasJ97t1LWqt0g66c5BhxjV7IWlgH-zLtI14gQP5xIXTzBu2TnM5a8pPHQlKayHzmrUCoVsEw8zKLmegrDKbVglQL3v0pHkWIL7qbbk/s320/106_1951.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Forget about sitting at your desk at work with your legs bent. Oh no, your knee caps are pressed so tight between denim and leg bone you feel like they might pop out of place.<br />
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After eight hours of feeling like you've been wearing half a body cast, you get home and take the second skin off. Here's how you do it...<br />
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All of the above only in reverse.<br />
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Then once your skin has thanked you from releasing it from constriction, you can marvel at the seam marks left permanently etched into your skin due to the equally tight heeled boots that were pressing denim and sock into your lady hide.<br />
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Ohh, sexy! I've had my pants off for about two hours now and I still have seam patterns all over my ankles.<br />
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My knee caps are thanking me right about now!Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-43384803865022785222011-11-03T20:00:00.000-07:002011-11-03T20:00:02.820-07:00Questionable Halloween CandyLike any kid who went out on Monday night Trick or Treating, my two came home with a haul of goodies fit for a King.<br />
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I'm sure you're like me - the bags get dumped out on the floor and I literally sort through each and every one to ensure they're safe. I don't question my neighbourhood, necessarily. Each and every house we go to is totally fine and most have kids who either go to our elementary school or the one up the road.<br />
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The problem I have is with what goes through some folks minds when "preparing" their Halloween treats. The word preparing is a problem here. What's there to prepare? You open a box of Mars Bars, dump them into a bowl and put them at your front door.<br />
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But every year there's that one person who decides to go-that-extra-mile-for-the-kids and puts loose candies into individual bags that are decked out with all manner of spookiness, tied up with ribbons and bows <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and repeat this process 100 times)</span>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOa9eElFKFZ7RX98CmWxQwhTzEja2m7AQPYyD2DPefLwPxWfpVNwoKB4KC_9lTZ96D13ZER0GXWRrs7f_5k-oijoBMWVbK-a_U_XpytFLKbSvMJ7d0YQSiGtXeUraJmmivK9FFX9wVv-o/s1600/candies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOa9eElFKFZ7RX98CmWxQwhTzEja2m7AQPYyD2DPefLwPxWfpVNwoKB4KC_9lTZ96D13ZER0GXWRrs7f_5k-oijoBMWVbK-a_U_XpytFLKbSvMJ7d0YQSiGtXeUraJmmivK9FFX9wVv-o/s1600/candies.jpg" /></a></div>Why??<br />
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Loose candies??<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (shaking my head)</span> and off to the trash they go. What a waste.<br />
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Loose jelly beans, loose jube jubes, loose Skittles??<br />
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Why??<br />
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First of all your dirty, nasty hands have touched those loose candies and I don't know where they've been!<br />
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Second, and this is going back to my days of Trick or Treating 30 years ago, any fool knows about candy safety unless they are deliberately wanting to harm a child <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I curse you whoever you are)</span>.<br />
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So why would you even bother to do this. Is it to save money? Really?<br />
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I get the whole "it's the thought that counts" thing, but in this case, there is no thought. It's just sheer stupidity.Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5698534110792444929.post-62360217424431904832011-11-01T19:59:00.000-07:002011-11-01T19:59:31.275-07:00Okay so now what do I do?Okay, so here's the thing. On the days leading up to Halloween, I was able to get my boys out of bed and up and ready for school by yelling out, in an excited voice:<br />
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<strong><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">"(fill in random # here) more days 'til Halloween..."</span></strong><br />
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This pretty much got them out of bed and dressed no problemo. Because what were they?? Excited, that's what!<br />
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So now what the heck to I do?<br />
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Somehow <span style="color: red;"><strong>"2 months 'till Christmas..."</strong></span> just doesn't seem to have the same appeal.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">"61</span> <span style="color: red;">days</span> <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">'till</span> <span style="color: red;">Christmas</span></span><span style="color: #93c47d;">..."</span></strong> Nah, even Jinglebelled out it still doesn't work. It seems like an eternity away. That wouldn't get me out of bed in record time either.<br />
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So it's back to grumpy pants Mom who yells them out of bed, yells them dressed, and yells them to get teeth brushed, etc.<br />
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I could threaten to highjack their "ween loot. But then they might hide every left shoe in each pair that I own which would indeed mess with my sanity.<br />
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Yup, I'm buggered until at least Dec 1st!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0sT7y9_ZoL9M-IV6IzrEP77TNYNzjI8Uq5hxOrGsDXVIGEgdmRA_Zu59gpFz4DreLuZkWZuX0q13VoBYE__CImCNnnxI6WpQ4LOQZn0KDAKF036gae1ZQub19PQ8Wshmlb4-i77DrUU/s1600/106_1940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0sT7y9_ZoL9M-IV6IzrEP77TNYNzjI8Uq5hxOrGsDXVIGEgdmRA_Zu59gpFz4DreLuZkWZuX0q13VoBYE__CImCNnnxI6WpQ4LOQZn0KDAKF036gae1ZQub19PQ8Wshmlb4-i77DrUU/s320/106_1940.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJB3awmd9lk6vNsoEl172RVs8rcL0FrRh26fnISI-T9fJ5LXf8mipg7UedBca4C5v3kdCQQoXjV3NZE7bpL-i7wjADMTkN54KNgCGQlNvOu2qfIOGLLrJqMZ0ftJF3436i4zplyAXqdDE/s1600/106_1941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJB3awmd9lk6vNsoEl172RVs8rcL0FrRh26fnISI-T9fJ5LXf8mipg7UedBca4C5v3kdCQQoXjV3NZE7bpL-i7wjADMTkN54KNgCGQlNvOu2qfIOGLLrJqMZ0ftJF3436i4zplyAXqdDE/s320/106_1941.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Twisted Mummyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13282498324491851964noreply@blogger.com1