Nails, Nails, Nails

Oh Halloween..... this is the FIRST year that I have been toying with the idea of staying home and drinking in a less "let me grind my man bits on your ass parts" bar kind of way. Maybe it's the whole marriage thing, or maybe its the fact that I no longer have the patience it once took to put up with that type of shit. Seriously. I make better drinks than the bar does, I play music I like, I don't have to pay extremely high prices, AND I can dance NAKED in my living room FOR FREE without fear of being arrested. Horrible flashbacks are repeating in my mind of when I thought it would be a good idea to go to THE MULE (seedy night club in Penticton) to see Sak Noel. Ok the truth is I got free tickets and figured it would be a good excuse to drink my face off; so I went.  I didn't even know his one hit; "what the fuck," but that didn't really seem to matter because it only had three words in it anyway and I was too mesmerized by his coked-out dancers to really give two shits. Thank Christ the tickets were free. The precious hours of my life however? I will never get back. Where the balls is this post going??

My point, I think, is that I find as I am getting "older" I have discovered myself to be much better company than the other 99% of the population. Don't get me wrong, at most times I can't stand myself and I truly do pity the poor bastard that married me - he is long suffering. BUT! Even if I was single and looking; the last goddamn place I would go would be the bar; christ, I would have better odds at the Greyhound station in Merrit than take my chances elsewhere. Maybe it's the way I party, because no matter the shit hole or "happenin'" city I find myself in, I always have some messed up experience; like that time at Pride in Vancouver where I got lost, bought a transvestite named Tamara a cheese dog from 7-11, and took (what should have been a 5 min cab ride)  for 45 minutes because for the life of me I could not remember where my hostel was. To make matters worse I had to "bunk up" with a hostel mate that I didn't know and who had more hair on her legs than a male gorilla. I have never wanted a shower so bad in my life. On the plus side I managed to acquire someone else's t-shirt and their gucci sunglasses. HMMMM.

Ok, one more mention of babies here because I feel it is necessary to defend what may be interpreted as "human hate." So not two days after my mention of "baby Facebook," I go in to get my nails done at "Nails, Nails, Nails," which is usually a sanctuary of sorts for me as "Bella" speaks little English but makes nice conversation with me regardless. So anyway, within 5 minutes of sitting down she tells me that she is pregnant; naturally, I am excited for her and begin to ask her questions about "how far along she is," and "what names does she like." Within seconds the conversation turns to "how to get pregnant," which is not something I am looking for information on or "coaching" for that matter. My apprehension didn't seem to phase her and for the next 45 minutes, through broken english and hand gestures, I was able to make out; "cum" "lay on your back for 4 hours afterwards," "do it at 4am so you can go back to sleep," AND, "keep your legs in the air." WHAT THE FRICKEN FRACK!!! Even my nail lady is in on this. May I point out, that if conceiving a baby requires me to stay on my back for 4 hours and have sex in the early am; you can count this bitch out.

I am seriously convinced that Jesus is against me; the following evening I was "holding it" until I got home when an unexpected urge to sneeze appeared and I ended up pissing my skirt in the lobby of my apartment building. I thought this shit only happened to women who have HAD babies?? As my mother said, " you better start doing some "exercises" if that's the state you're in."

"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward"

You know those times where it probably isn't a good idea to go out in public or communicate with anyone of the human species due to your horribly un-excused attitude?? Well it's one of those times for me; I almost choked a bitch in the save-on foods check out; except it wasn't a bitch, it was a 9 year old boy annoying the living shit out of me and his oblivious father that has no doubt instilled those "talents" into his child. It's always the people who should have been deemed "unfit" to be parents that seem to procreate like rabbits and produce little mini versions of themselves. Wholy Christ. Whew. Maybe it's the fact that Facebook appears to have become "Baby" central as of late; goddamn, I fully expect that the next add to appear on my timeline wall will go something like this;

 "Get your 1939 Nun Cornette and Habit at 50% off if you buy now. Your ovaries may have given up on you, but Jesus hasn't!"

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against babies, people having babies, and the fact that I don't have one (Thank Jesus - pun intended); but goddamn, I already have put enough pressure on myself to PICK A CAREER (and stick with it) and to finally finish school that the last thing I need is a constant reminder of the many "milestones in life" that I have yet to even ponder. Maybe I should have thought about this before I "accepted" successful people as my friends on Facebook. I need more sub-par friends that I can compare my life to and  feel good about myself selfishly while I sleep at night. I guess that's why I like watching The Biggest Loser while eating horrible shit food. But lets be honest, and I may just be tooting my own horn here, but making a baby or getting successfully fat don't take much effort do they?? (in most cases)??? For sweet shit sakes, you could do them both at the same time!!! Getting a degree however takes years of procrastination, debt, dignity sacrifice, and the conclusion that any chance of "normalcy" can pretty much be thrown at the proverbial shit fan. Maybe I'm going to become one of those socially-stigmatized women that "chooses her career over raising a family?".......................Probably not as I'm pretty sure that I'm destined to have some sort of fetal surprise (mistake) in my future. Well, then again, there's really no need to worry as I think there has been enough "Jesus slander" and anti-human race comments to ensure me a speedy one way ticket straight to hell.

Until next time.

The past two weeks have felt like I've been sliding down a slippery shit-stormed slope; the end doesn't look too promising either. I returned back to Penticton from my relaxing weekend of Thanksgiving gluttony to find the first "nugget" of shit in the form of my vehicle. My (actually its Fraser's)1994 Mazda Protege had decided to officially DIE upon my arrival home; Jesus was obviously of Fraser's side as the car was working fine while I was away. So Fraser departs the next morning for a week of hockey crap, and I am left with not only  the pleasure of a clean house (not) but my transportation options were now either the BUS or taxi. I may be cheap, but clearly not cheap enough to succumb to public transportation; instead I paid out the asshole in cab fare. OH! My favourite "highlight" of the week was waking up on my first day back to work and realizing that the toilet paper fairy had used the last roll and forgot to magically purchase more. That bitch better shape up or ship out.

On a lighter note I had sooo much fun drinking wine and vodka on my home vacation that it has given me lasting hope that Christmas is only a few short months away. I'm sure by that time I will have digested the baby-sized amount of food I ate and will most likely have sobered up by then. Also, I have had to go with a rental car for the past week and since Budget was out of economy cars, I am now driving a black Impala; I am secretly living out my dreams of being a female pimp/drug lord. It's amazing what driving a new car can do for the ego; each morning I secretly hope the Mazda has been stolen and driven to Mexico. The car depreciates my sense of self worth. Once again, the amount of complaining in this post makes me feel like slapping myself square in the face; if car troubles and over-eating are my only two problems, I deserve to be shit kicked.

One of my many "realizations" this week came quickly after visiting the dentist today. Now, usually I choose not to think about my student loan debt or the insane amount of money I have wasted on nicotine gum; but today was one of those days where I had to face the facts. I figured that unless I rob a bank or become a prostitute, I will be paying "maximum fees" until I can secure some sort of job that has DECENT benefits. You know, it's times like these that I find a soft place in my bitter heart for criminals, those that misuse the "system", and others that "give it to the man." The fear of WHAT would happen to me in prison is the only thing preventing me from becoming one of the above mentioned people. Basically, my two choices are to become homeless and invest all my money into my teeth, or, become one of those gap-toothed hobbits with dry socket and tooth decay; none of these options are enticing to say the least. Maybe I should just throw in the towel and get dentures.

The past few days have made me extremely bitter towards anything that costs money; hence why I am spending my Friday night at home eating a jar of pickled beets for dinner. I did however make it to the gym today; it is amazing how great I feel afterwards, it's the "getting there" part that is most difficult. Regardless, I will admit that my "outlook on society" is probably tampered by the fact that I stayed up until 2am lastnight watching the Hunger Games and then proceeded to contemplate how I would survive if I were "chosen." Christ. I also watched, "Seeking a friend for the end of the world;" which resulted in me trying to decided what I would do if the world was going to end. I basically decided that I would spend some of my time eating myself sick and wearing my "no sex pants" - pajama pants.

The Mazda had returned home; about as exciting as finding 2 week old dirty underwear.

I would first like to start out by stating that I am completely uncomfortable with public displays of affection; mine and others. I really don't know where this stems from...maybe being completely grossed out as a child watching my dad and his wife at the time kiss...I don't know but the 4.5 hour drive to Vancouver warranted ample time to ponder my many "thoughts." I caught a ride with a distant family member (in-law) which I am very thankful for, though riding in a truck definitely did not allow the appropriate amount of room for myself, him, and his new girlfriend. Maybe I have turned the corner and become a bitter old married hag or maybe it was the fart I held in all the way from Penticton clouding my perception, but if the space in that truck was any smaller in proximity; I could have quite possibly been a member of an incestial road-orgy.

I am currently sitting on the ferry waiting for it to bring me back to my beautiful island; my luck, however, has landed me directly outside the women's washroom; nothing like the smell of shit and whitespot to stir up an appetite. Filled with screaming over-tired children, teenagers (I can complain about them now because I've come to terms with being classified as "old"), poorly dressed members of society, and of course BC ferries workers. I for one, no matter how much they paid me, would never take a job here, those blue pants almost beat out Tim Hortons in the, "how many feet can we add to your ass" - pants contest. I'll pass.

On a good note, I got a raise at work, so I have now moved up from being a "below poverty line" student to a"just skimming the poverty line" student. It's amazing what $1.00 can do to a person's optimism, really. Some part of me obviously cares remotely about my job because I have decided to not publicly post what I'd like to tell them about that dollar and where a nice place for it might be. Compared to last year, atleast I'm employed.

All in all, the travel is well worth it though; I'm looking forward to seeing my family and being home for Thanksgiving; which just so happens to be my favourite holiday of the year. This is also one of the few holidays that I don't cry at, unlike Christmas and my birthday. I'm also looking forward to drinking lots of wine and............no, just drinking lots of wine.

Happy Thanksgiving All!!! May your festive celebrations be as dysfunctional as mine!!!

That thong tha thong thong thong......

So I have managed to go another week relatively unscathed from my rather chaotic life at the moment. You would think that after four years of University I would come to the conclusion that working full time and going to school full time is not going to benefit my personal and/or mental health....but noooo. I know it's the start of a new semester at school when I start to cry uncontrollably at any commercial with animals or babies in it (emotional instability), my body breaks out in hives (physical reaction to stress), and my diet begins to consist of anything that can be microwaved, blended, or ready-to-serve. Needless to say; the end result is not pretty. I keep telling myself that in less than one year I can have my life back...except I'm not entirely sure what that looks like. I think I'm still 99% stuck on the fact that I will win the lottery; like that time this woman called me twice in regards to being "re-entered" to win a Lexus; I was effing convinced I was going to win and had even planned out what I would do with the money after I won it (and sold it). Flash forward 2 years and I'm still scratching Gold Rush tickets. I won $6 dollars last week; tripled my initial investment.

Don't get me wrong, there are waaaay more things that I enjoy in my life than despise. Thank-god for my friends and family..oh and my wonderful husband ( the word still seems foreign to me as I was convinced for the majority of my years before this that I would remain single and have a cat-breeding farm somewhere in the woods...however part of that dream is still possible?)

In other news. Had the in-laws up for the weekend, how fitting that it was Wine Fest! Saturday involved me finishing a paper with 1.5 hours to spare and then spending the rest of the day, afternoon, and evening drinking copious amounts of liquids with varying alcohol contents. Things that I remember, or that I was told I did that evening:

Going for lunch at Hillside and drinking half a bottle of wine - remembered
Doing a wine tasting a various wineries - (remembered)
Having over $150 of wine bought for me by my lovely family - (Seriously? Of course)
Going back to the hotel, drinking vodka on the rocks (thanks mother-in-law) and getting dressed - (slightly blurry)
Going pee at the restaurant and realizing that my thong was on backwards all morning: (Why yes I do!)
Going to the Vees Game- (Remember entering and drinking above-mentioned vodka out of a water bottle)
Peeing in the bushes outside of the rink in front of my in-laws (NO)
Eating chicken wings and food at the restaurant - (Barely, though I remember not finishing my drink)
Taking a cab ride home (Apparently) ....side note, I woke up on Sunday morning and said to Fraser;

 "I actually don't feel that badly and I remember most of everything, except the cab ride home was a little blurry"
FRASER: "Well that's because I DROVE home"

All in all it was a pretty classy night, I really have no idea what I even talked about or if I was even able to talk; the morning resulted in me hoping, as I always do after a night like that, that everyone else was equally as shitfaced as I was.


It is now Tuesday and I think I am finally over my hangover. I don't get it, the old people drank me under the table and were twice my age; not to mention they were all up before 8 am the next morning while I was still asleep in a vodka induced coma. So much for a healthy start to October. It's bad enough that I already dislike Monday's, but heading to work after a weekend of above-legal blood alcohol levels could closely resemble HELL. I came home that evening and ate my weight in Turkey casserole; lazed around on the couch in my "no sex pants" as Fraser calls them, and then just before going to bed I realized that I had somehow over-looked a paper that was due in 4 hours; nothing like last minute. For fuck sakes.

Now to recover and do it all over again next weekend; hopefully this time I'll have my big girl panties on straight.

Hello Fall

I am one pair of crotch-wrenching pantyhose away from becoming a 1960's housewife. Although some aspects of that lifestyle would not be that bad...such as; not having to work......I can't think of any others.

I have cooked, cleaned, washed laundry, and am currently sitting on my couch with no pants on and curlers in my hair. It is Saturday night and I've spent the past hour trying to convince myself that this is perfectly acceptable behaviour for a 25 year old married woman.

Fast forward to Sunday.

I find it quite amazing the amount of work I put into cooking dinner; especially after having a few drinks. Though I do not condone drinking to excess, I fully support its use in becoming a happier and more productive member of society (within reason). Personally, I use alcohol to just not give a shit; dishes? No problem. Paying bills? Absolutely! Talking to people you definitely wouldn't carry on conversations with sober? Of course! This is when alcohol can become such a great companion; on the flip side, it can leave you in tears crying in your 1994 Mazda Protege to your husband about your "issues". Not the finest of moments.

Saturday night did not turn into much, my hair ended up looking like a post-sex follicle romp and my PMS (which has worsened each year??) took the better of me. I ended up watching Lord of the Rings on teletoon and eating half a bag of crispy mini's dill flavour; carbicide.
 I woke up this morning with yesterday's makeup on and some sort of  blonde animal growing at the back of my head (my hair). Note to those wanting extensions, get a weave. Saying "my weave is tangled" is much more badass than explaining why your "clamp extensions have dried out." Just sayin.

Though I am a full time student and work full time, my "google search list" begs to contradict that statement. Throughout my life I have come to accept that I am eccentric, often OCD, a mental terrorist, and quite stubborn the majority of the time, I never thought that my life could be summed up by simply looking at my Google search history.  I thought I would share what I came across; keep in mind, these searches are only one week old:


Canada post Penticton
Side effects of dairy allergy
Unique Baby Names
What is a group of deer called?
Tegan and Sara new album
Diplomat cake recipe
Jessica Simpson's baby (I was trying to convince Fraser that this could quite possible be the ugliest child)
Trichotillomania
Deena plastic surgery
French Bulldog
Cesar millan's dogs names
Cesar millan Mr.President
Cesar millan's dogs
Cesar

FUCK.

This is Mr.President, not sure why I needed to search four times.

No better time than the present??

So I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog for awhile now....to be honest I used to have one in high school filled with teenage angst and stories of how much I couldn't stand my parents and life at the time..... if I could go back now I would definitely give myself a straight slap to the face. I guess the real reason behind this whole thing is to kind of have a way to document my life; what I have learned, what I have been forced to accept, and the crazy randomness that falls in between. Don't get me wrong, my life is by no means a hollywood drama or action movie; you'd probably get more excitement in the dog food aisle at Pet Smart most nights of the week. For example; it is Saturday night and my evening plans have resulted in eating half a jar of pickled beets (tasty), watching a re-run of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, and procrastinating doing my homework; you better red-neckognize.

After re-reading that paragraph I have concluded that the true reasons behind this blog are driven by my extreme determination to procrastinate my final year of school AND my underlying fear of developing alzheimers and forgetting everything. Although forgetting some things wouldn't be that bad; such as my age.

Speaking of age I would like to make mention that this has become an issue for me, mostly because the number keeps increasing. I was staring at myself in the mirror at work the other day (there are mirrors everywhere, I'm not that vain) and realized that my "smile lines" have become smile "crevasses" on my face. It took everything in me to refrain from resorting to google to find the nearest botox center. (This is another issue that I'm sure will surface itself again throughout this blog). I probably would never go through with botox, actually that is a lie, I will never go through with botox in my 20's. I think I'm secretly hoping that the world of anti-aging will make great leaps and bounds by the time I truly do need some "help" and then injecting your face with pureed organic crap will be available. I've also realized that I will have to be a closet botox-er, my family would never let me live it down, just like that time I got stuck knee-deep in fish sperm and eggs and had to spend the rest of the day "airing off" while my family took part in their happy outing; bastards.

Believe it or not, there IS a part of me that enjoys my age, staying home on weekends, and being employed. For starters, I would take being 25 over reliving the years between 18 and 22, I greatly appreciate (though not while the drinking is actually happening) waking up Sunday mornings knowing EXACTLY what I did the night before and not having my eyelash stuck to my upper lip, and finally, though I have convinced myself that I "shouldn't have to work," I have concluded that I could not do the things I do now OR be able to buy SKY VODKA at any given day of the week if I didn't have a pay cheque. As a result of all of this I have started playing the lotto; this would solve everything.