Go ahead now, make fun. But I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. And I'm going to keep mine, and not throw it away like George did in "Dead Like Me", when she was cheezed off at the tooth fairy.
Jan 13, 2008
Pillow Treasure
This is what was left under my pillow......
Go ahead now, make fun. But I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. And I'm going to keep mine, and not throw it away like George did in "Dead Like Me", when she was cheezed off at the tooth fairy.
Go ahead now, make fun. But I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. And I'm going to keep mine, and not throw it away like George did in "Dead Like Me", when she was cheezed off at the tooth fairy.
Jan 10, 2008
Fatty McFat Fat
Over the past 4 months, I have gained about 20 pounds. Not out of the ordinary for me, I can put on weight faster than you can say Fatty McFat Fat. It's a talent, a gift. But I put on a whole 10 pounds in about 2 weeks over Xmas. My clothes don't fit now, and I've been stuck wearing my fat pants from a few years ago, just so I can breathe. Every time I leave the house, I pray for Stacy and Clinton to pop out of nowhere and whiz me to New York to teach me how to dress and take me shopping.
No matter how much I have weighed, I've never really known how to dress myself appropriately. When I was younger, and skinny (and thinking I was fat! Arghh, how I hate the thought of that!), it was the age of grunge rock and skater clothes. I either wore my clothes 5 sizes too big, or I was layered beyond belief ( long underwear under shorts, long sleeved shirts under tank tops, cardigans....I've never been able to give up the Value Village cardigans). I never did my hair, because a toque could be worn year-round, and hats and messy pig-tails could pass as somewhat fashionable. I look at photos of myself now, and those clothes made me look way bigger than I actually was. But damn, I was cool. Today, those clothes that were 5 sizes too big, would probably either fit me properly, or be too tight on me now.
As I started to gain weight, and turn into a Ukrainian baba, I moved to big skirts, and long shirts, to cover my disgusting pudge. Having been someone who always dressed a bit different than the norm, and wouldn't know trendy if trendy hit her in the face, I felt okay, being covered, and dressing all hippie-ish. The only skin I like to show, is my cleavage, because my boobs, although they stress me out, are hot.
I hate shopping. I have an incredibly hard time finding things that flatter my build, and that I feel comfortable in. I always end up buying things "that'll do", and that are cheap, because I am too cheap to go to a store that sells things exclusively for us big girls. (Big girls being anyone of the incredibly average size of 16) I have an entire room of clothes that I either don't like, don't go with anything, or don't fit properly. If I had just spent a bit more money on items that fit me, instead of spending tons of money in the long run on things that were okay, I would be doing better in the closet department. I feel less than sexy these days, and would do anything, just to be able to throw on an outfit and feel comfortable and ready to take on the day, no matter what I am doing. I have even stopped going out dancing, because I just don't have any winter clothes that make me feel comfortable enough to shake my booty in on the dance floor, in the confident way that I am accustomed to.
I've got to lose this weight. I must feel better. No ifs, ands, or buts.
No matter how much I have weighed, I've never really known how to dress myself appropriately. When I was younger, and skinny (and thinking I was fat! Arghh, how I hate the thought of that!), it was the age of grunge rock and skater clothes. I either wore my clothes 5 sizes too big, or I was layered beyond belief ( long underwear under shorts, long sleeved shirts under tank tops, cardigans....I've never been able to give up the Value Village cardigans). I never did my hair, because a toque could be worn year-round, and hats and messy pig-tails could pass as somewhat fashionable. I look at photos of myself now, and those clothes made me look way bigger than I actually was. But damn, I was cool. Today, those clothes that were 5 sizes too big, would probably either fit me properly, or be too tight on me now.
As I started to gain weight, and turn into a Ukrainian baba, I moved to big skirts, and long shirts, to cover my disgusting pudge. Having been someone who always dressed a bit different than the norm, and wouldn't know trendy if trendy hit her in the face, I felt okay, being covered, and dressing all hippie-ish. The only skin I like to show, is my cleavage, because my boobs, although they stress me out, are hot.
I hate shopping. I have an incredibly hard time finding things that flatter my build, and that I feel comfortable in. I always end up buying things "that'll do", and that are cheap, because I am too cheap to go to a store that sells things exclusively for us big girls. (Big girls being anyone of the incredibly average size of 16) I have an entire room of clothes that I either don't like, don't go with anything, or don't fit properly. If I had just spent a bit more money on items that fit me, instead of spending tons of money in the long run on things that were okay, I would be doing better in the closet department. I feel less than sexy these days, and would do anything, just to be able to throw on an outfit and feel comfortable and ready to take on the day, no matter what I am doing. I have even stopped going out dancing, because I just don't have any winter clothes that make me feel comfortable enough to shake my booty in on the dance floor, in the confident way that I am accustomed to.
I've got to lose this weight. I must feel better. No ifs, ands, or buts.
Jan 9, 2008
To My Credit
As I rushed out the door to go to work yesterday, I took a quick look at the end table on which we pile all of our mail, to see if there was any mail for me. There was a big fat unmarked envelope from Markham, Ontario. I quickly opened it, to see what I was being solicited about, and realized that it was a credit card. I fainted. (No I didn't, I'm lying.)
I couldn't effing believe it. I have been applying to get a credit card through my bank ever since I bought my new car. I figured that if they were willing to give me thousands of dollars, they might be convinced to give me $500 credit. But they could not be convinced.
I applied about 7-8 times in the past 3 months, just to force someone to print off the generic rejection letter and mail it to me.
"Sorry, Ms. Road, you are bad with money, and we don't like you. Piss off. Best Wishes, Your Bank."
In a sad, twisted way, I liked it, because it is very rare that I get mail that isn't from Reader's Digest, The War Amps, or Ralph Goodale.
A few years back, when I was still wild and crazy, (ok, crazier) and didn't really give a shit about the future, I got myself in some credit card trouble. I went to Scotland, England and France for a few months, with not quite enough money, and half way through my trip, had to start using my credit cards for everything. Of course, I wasn't making payments, (except for the cash my mom threw on the cards when I'd call her from a payphone from gawd-knows-where), and shortly after I arrived back in Canada and got settled back at work, and found an apartment, the credit card people caught up with me. My first paycheck, that was to pay rent and a damage deposit so I didn't have to live on my brother's girlfriends couch anymore, was taken from me. No matter what I said to them, they just didn't care. My last call to them, went something like this:
"But, I'm homeless. I have a job, but I'm homeless. I just got back to Canada. I can pay the whole thing off next month. "
" Sorry, Ma'am. You should have thought about that before you left the country."
"So I made a mistake. Sue me."
"Don't worry ma'am, we just might."
"I hate you for not having a soul."
"Have a nice day ma'am, thanks for getting your poor mother to pay us our money. I hope no one ever lets you live this down."
"They won't. Good-bye."
Ok, I'm lying again, but it was something along those lines, followed by me crying my face off for about a day.
So, when I got that credit card approval yesterday, it was a huge weight off of my shoulders. According to the bank, I am not an irresponsible twenty-something anymore. I can be trusted again. I, am an adult. The past doesn't matter to them anymore, and I should clear up some things myself, so it doesn't matter to anyone else either. The only way to go, is up.
The only reason I wanted a credit card so badly, was so I could start my own Etsy shop. I joined Etsy two years ago, and after going through all the steps, I realized that you need a credit card to have your own shop. It was a kick in the face. Over the past year, a bunch of friends have started their own shops, and I was a jealous bear about it. But now, finally, I can have my own.
I just need some time to sit down and get it going. Which may be tougher than I want it to be, but I'm determined. But, I'll keep you posted, and once it's up, I'll take you shopping. You have to pay of course though, because I'm living off bottle recycling money.
I couldn't effing believe it. I have been applying to get a credit card through my bank ever since I bought my new car. I figured that if they were willing to give me thousands of dollars, they might be convinced to give me $500 credit. But they could not be convinced.
I applied about 7-8 times in the past 3 months, just to force someone to print off the generic rejection letter and mail it to me.
"Sorry, Ms. Road, you are bad with money, and we don't like you. Piss off. Best Wishes, Your Bank."
In a sad, twisted way, I liked it, because it is very rare that I get mail that isn't from Reader's Digest, The War Amps, or Ralph Goodale.
A few years back, when I was still wild and crazy, (ok, crazier) and didn't really give a shit about the future, I got myself in some credit card trouble. I went to Scotland, England and France for a few months, with not quite enough money, and half way through my trip, had to start using my credit cards for everything. Of course, I wasn't making payments, (except for the cash my mom threw on the cards when I'd call her from a payphone from gawd-knows-where), and shortly after I arrived back in Canada and got settled back at work, and found an apartment, the credit card people caught up with me. My first paycheck, that was to pay rent and a damage deposit so I didn't have to live on my brother's girlfriends couch anymore, was taken from me. No matter what I said to them, they just didn't care. My last call to them, went something like this:
"But, I'm homeless. I have a job, but I'm homeless. I just got back to Canada. I can pay the whole thing off next month. "
" Sorry, Ma'am. You should have thought about that before you left the country."
"So I made a mistake. Sue me."
"Don't worry ma'am, we just might."
"I hate you for not having a soul."
"Have a nice day ma'am, thanks for getting your poor mother to pay us our money. I hope no one ever lets you live this down."
"They won't. Good-bye."
Ok, I'm lying again, but it was something along those lines, followed by me crying my face off for about a day.
So, when I got that credit card approval yesterday, it was a huge weight off of my shoulders. According to the bank, I am not an irresponsible twenty-something anymore. I can be trusted again. I, am an adult. The past doesn't matter to them anymore, and I should clear up some things myself, so it doesn't matter to anyone else either. The only way to go, is up.
The only reason I wanted a credit card so badly, was so I could start my own Etsy shop. I joined Etsy two years ago, and after going through all the steps, I realized that you need a credit card to have your own shop. It was a kick in the face. Over the past year, a bunch of friends have started their own shops, and I was a jealous bear about it. But now, finally, I can have my own.
I just need some time to sit down and get it going. Which may be tougher than I want it to be, but I'm determined. But, I'll keep you posted, and once it's up, I'll take you shopping. You have to pay of course though, because I'm living off bottle recycling money.
Jan 7, 2008
Oh, Happy Day.
What a great day.
I was actually mentally prepared for my 7:00 am call-in for work, so when I arrived seven hours early for my originally scheduled shift, I was in good spirits. I found someone to work the remaining 6 hours of my would-have-been 18 hour shift, and headed home to pound a Kokanee.
After a couple of quick phone calls to the girls, I called Smyrish, and he said he wanted to spend some money on me to take me for supper. How could I say no? When I went to pick him up, he said we had to make a quick stop on the way, and it was a surprise. I hate surprises, you never know if it will be good, or bad, and they cause me anxiety. ( "Surprise! Here's a million dollars!", or "Surprise! We're in the middle of nowhere, and now you must die!")
However, this surprise was abso-fucking-lutely wonderful:
( I think I will name her Gigi )
He bought me a new sewing machine!!!! Yippee!! Isn't she beautiful???
After I gave him a smooch, we headed off for supper, where I enjoyed the second best sandwich I have ever had in my life, the best one being the corned beef sandwich I had when I was in Montreal last, at Ben's Deli.
( I promise, it looked much better than these leftovers do.)
After supper, it was off to Home Depot where I sat in my dream bath tub, a quick visit with Film Star at the Shopper's Drug Mart, and then back to Smyrish's place to hang out and listen to the new Radiohead album, read catalogues, and look at old photos.
And alas, I am home. About to spend the first night in forever, alone in my bed. (With the exception of those nights where Smyrish couldn't stand my snoring.) I am going to play some scrabble, watch the rest of "Hello, Dolly", hug Gigi, and hopefully get a good nights sleep, with dreams full of Barbara Streisand sung show tunes.
I was actually mentally prepared for my 7:00 am call-in for work, so when I arrived seven hours early for my originally scheduled shift, I was in good spirits. I found someone to work the remaining 6 hours of my would-have-been 18 hour shift, and headed home to pound a Kokanee.
After a couple of quick phone calls to the girls, I called Smyrish, and he said he wanted to spend some money on me to take me for supper. How could I say no? When I went to pick him up, he said we had to make a quick stop on the way, and it was a surprise. I hate surprises, you never know if it will be good, or bad, and they cause me anxiety. ( "Surprise! Here's a million dollars!", or "Surprise! We're in the middle of nowhere, and now you must die!")
However, this surprise was abso-fucking-lutely wonderful:
( I think I will name her Gigi )
He bought me a new sewing machine!!!! Yippee!! Isn't she beautiful???
After I gave him a smooch, we headed off for supper, where I enjoyed the second best sandwich I have ever had in my life, the best one being the corned beef sandwich I had when I was in Montreal last, at Ben's Deli.
( I promise, it looked much better than these leftovers do.)After supper, it was off to Home Depot where I sat in my dream bath tub, a quick visit with Film Star at the Shopper's Drug Mart, and then back to Smyrish's place to hang out and listen to the new Radiohead album, read catalogues, and look at old photos.
And alas, I am home. About to spend the first night in forever, alone in my bed. (With the exception of those nights where Smyrish couldn't stand my snoring.) I am going to play some scrabble, watch the rest of "Hello, Dolly", hug Gigi, and hopefully get a good nights sleep, with dreams full of Barbara Streisand sung show tunes.
How to Truly Enjoy a Three and a Half Day Weekend, Part Deux
14. When unable to show everyone what a fantastic bowler you are, impress them with your "victory" dance instead.
15. Go home with your man, and laugh while watching "The Darwin Awards".
16. Stay up way too late, pissing around on the Internet and drinking beer.
17. Spend Sunday cooking a lovely, fart-inducing Ukrainian meal for your family. Make a mental note that sauerkraut just may have the power to end relationships, and should only be used when absolutely necessary.
18. Drag out the board games after supper. Lose at Trivial Pursuit. Consider taking Grade Four over again.
19. Hang out in Smyrish's kitchen, drinking water, and talking, before heading to bed to have a good....sleep.
15. Go home with your man, and laugh while watching "The Darwin Awards".
16. Stay up way too late, pissing around on the Internet and drinking beer.
17. Spend Sunday cooking a lovely, fart-inducing Ukrainian meal for your family. Make a mental note that sauerkraut just may have the power to end relationships, and should only be used when absolutely necessary.
18. Drag out the board games after supper. Lose at Trivial Pursuit. Consider taking Grade Four over again.
19. Hang out in Smyrish's kitchen, drinking water, and talking, before heading to bed to have a good....sleep.
Jan 5, 2008
How to Truly Enjoy a Three and a Half Day Weekend, Part One
1. Decide on Thursday afternoon to not worry about household duties you have been putting off, and drag your ass to The Pub.
2. Be pleasantly surprised by the amount of friends that are at said pub, even if they are only there to hug the Grey Cup.
3. Enjoy your free drinks from the guy who won on the VLT machines.
4. When most everyone else has gone home, because they have to work in the morning, pound your pint and head to the gay bar with the other die-hards, who don't have to work in the morning, and believe as you do, that Thursday is the best day of the week to tear it up.
5. Sleep in on Friday, just long enough not to have a hangover.
6. Meet friends for lunch at The Super Happy Fun Buffet. Gorge yourself, it's okay to be a glutton at times like these.
7. Get some household duties completed, to make yourself feel better.
8. Cook a supper of homemade pizza and tortellini for you, and your man. Because, believe it or not, you're actually hungry a few hours after eating 4 heaping plates of food at the buffet.
9. Talk about renting some porn, and end up renting The Simpsons Movie instead.
10. Go to bed by midnight.
11. Wake up early-ish on Saturday morning, drink coffee, watch Spongebob, and read Tuesday's With Morrie.
12. Realize that it's Ukrainian Xmas, and invite family over for Sunday supper, before heading to the Ukrainian Co-op for food, so you can feed said family.
13. Go drunken bowling with your co-workers.
2. Be pleasantly surprised by the amount of friends that are at said pub, even if they are only there to hug the Grey Cup.
3. Enjoy your free drinks from the guy who won on the VLT machines.
4. When most everyone else has gone home, because they have to work in the morning, pound your pint and head to the gay bar with the other die-hards, who don't have to work in the morning, and believe as you do, that Thursday is the best day of the week to tear it up.
5. Sleep in on Friday, just long enough not to have a hangover.
6. Meet friends for lunch at The Super Happy Fun Buffet. Gorge yourself, it's okay to be a glutton at times like these.
7. Get some household duties completed, to make yourself feel better.
8. Cook a supper of homemade pizza and tortellini for you, and your man. Because, believe it or not, you're actually hungry a few hours after eating 4 heaping plates of food at the buffet.
9. Talk about renting some porn, and end up renting The Simpsons Movie instead.
10. Go to bed by midnight.
11. Wake up early-ish on Saturday morning, drink coffee, watch Spongebob, and read Tuesday's With Morrie.
12. Realize that it's Ukrainian Xmas, and invite family over for Sunday supper, before heading to the Ukrainian Co-op for food, so you can feed said family.
13. Go drunken bowling with your co-workers.
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