20 Ways To Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity

(disclaimer: I did not make these up but I did laugh a little. This is my version of 'forwarding')

1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a
hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

3. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries
with that.

4. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it "IN".

5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks . Once everyone has gotten
over their caffeine addictions, switch to Espresso.

6. In the memo field of all your checks, write "For smuggling diamonds".

7. Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy".

8. Don't use any punctuation.
9. As often as possible,
skip rather than walk.

10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.

11. Specify that your drive-through order is "To Go".

12. Sing along at the opera.

13. Go to a poetry recital, and ask why the poems don't rhyme?

14. Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds
all day.

15. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party
because you're not in the mood.

16. Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name, Rock Bottom.

17. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I Won! I Won!"

18. When leaving the Zoo, start running towards the parking lot, yelling
"Run for your lives! They're loose!"

19. Tell your children over dinner, "Due to the economy, we are going to
have to let one of you go." (I love this one!)

Annoyed...again

Pictured here is the shower curtain that I ordered online from CanadianTire almost 2 weeks ago. Yes, it's cool. I love the colors and I can't wait to see it so I can get to painting my bathroom!

And here we have a picture of the one that was sent. Also cute but NOT the curtain I ordered!!! What vexes me more is that they didn't REALLY send the wrong one because the product numbers are the same! How does this happen? How many people out there are ordering things online only because they like the pictures and descriptions and then do not receive what they have been anxiously hoping for? If there were color options for the curtain don't you think that should have been advertised? Or does the person putting together the order just say

'hmm, well it's not the right color but I am sure the customer won't mind this color too much'

Anyway, they have to 'start a file' on the incident and try to straighten it out for me. That means it could be a long time before I get my shower curtain. Which means it could be a long time before my bathroom gets painted which means a long time showering in the basement....uggggg!

This is flibirdijibits very frayed online shopping nerve......

For Posterity....

This post is mostly for my sake, taking advantage of the diary initiative that is Bloggy. So read on if you like but remember it's just a way of keeping track of my life for later on down the road when I can't remember what the hell it is I have done.

This week we are off to Christopher Lake to partake in our version of camping which is borrowing Auntie Margaret's cabin. Flebb and I met there, and it's always refreshing to go back to 'where it all began'. Our 6th, yes I said sixth, anniversary will come and go while we are away. Have to say we've accomplished and demolished quite a bit in the last 6 years. I realize this is not REALLY my personal diary so I'll stop there. Anyway, perhaps some funny incident will fall upon us in our travels and I will have more flibirdijibitisms then?

Toodles.

Urban Dictionary

This site seems to take my little game of Balderdash to another level! It's a slang dictionary that you right the definitions for!It's really funny. Here's todays word:

August 4, 2006

awesinine:
Stupidly brilliant, or brilliantly stupid. Describes an idea or work whose chief virtue is its overwhelming, unadulterated dumbness.

Have you heard about that new movie 'Snakes on a Plane'?Heck yeah! I'm going opening night. That thing looks awesinine

Wilma, you totally have to go put your new words up on that site!

Is This Thing On?

Last week Flebb (That’s my husband’s longtime nickname since school) and I had a little bonfire outside after we put the baby to bed and we always bring the baby monitor outside with us to hear every breath she makes, even though the window to her room is directly behind us when we are outside and we would most likely hear her without the monitor if she made any real noise. Doesn’t matter we still like to use the monitor.

The next day, I had put the baby down for a nap in her crib and then went downstairs to use the pooter and she had a great sleep. A rather long sleep I thought. Then I heard this faint yet urgent crying noise coming from upstairs! So I rushed upstairs to see what it was and it was nothing, she had just woken up, had her little happy awake time and transitioned into unhappy – I want outta this crib now – time. So I wondered why I hadn’t heard her wake up while I was downstairs working on the pooter. Usually I would hear every little noise she makes, especially something so ‘monumental’ as her having woken up from sleepy bye nigh-nigh time…. Then it occurred to me that the monitor must have been left outside during the night. Then shock and horror overtook me as I rushed outside to find it thinking all the while “Oh my gosh! The whole neighborhood could probably hear the goings on of our household all night and all morning” because we keep the volume turned up pretty loud especially when we head outside for the bonfire – again – there doesn’t seem to be any real point for us doing that but we do it anyway. Not that anything real exciting happens around our house throughout the night or during our morning rituals BUT it did have me running through conversations I had on the phone that morning and things I had said to my daughter or tones I might have taken with her etc,etc, yadda yadda yadda. The point is this:

Had I known the monitor was on and the whole neighborhood could hear my life, I might have paid more attention to what I was saying and doing and possibly taken more care.

When I got out there, I discovered that the monitor was in fact NOT out there but someone other than myself had indeed brought it in and just hadn’t plugged it in again inside. Well the feeling of relief I felt at not having to decide whether or not I had said or done anything inappropriate for the whole neighborhood to listen in on was remarkable!


Now here’s the ‘preachy’ part as I am SOOOO in the position to be preaching at all o’ you! I have resolved, since then, to (try) speaking and acting as though the monitor IS on. This resolution will come back to bite me in the ass I’m sure as there will be a certain amount of accountability at having shared it with you but that’s okay. It’s probably best for everyone that I just assume that ‘this thing IS on’ and mind my P & Q’s. I’ll admit I haven’t been doing that well when it comes to certain topics but I am going to try and do better. For instance: when I am getting ready to say something about someone who isn’t in my immediate presence I will stop and think “would I say this if the monitor was on and they were at the listening end?” or when I am busy doing something that frustrates me quite a bit, like ANYTHING in my kitchen and I feel like dropping a few choice yet unsavory words, I will (try) to stop and think “would I be saying this if the monitor was on and the whole neighborhood was listening in on my life?”

Of course I have to take into account the fact that I DO have privacy and the monitor isn’t really on especially at times when I need to vent a little, or someone needs to vent to me a little or when I want to do any number of the things I do everyday that are embarrassing yet necessary. I am sure I do not need to give examples of what these things might include. No, mostly I would just like to take more care in how I speak. Maybe give things a little more thought? Well, we’ll see how it goes. Lord knows I do NOT like the feeling I had when I thought the monitor was on without my knowing it. Remind me to write up the little story about the man who sang “ I Did It My Way”…..talk about putting your foot in your mouth! Well long story - short - I said some nasty things about him with his wife sitting in the same waiting room as me listening to everything I said right up until he came out and joined her and they left together! Yah, that’s about how it feels when you think the monitor has been on all day and all night without your knowing it. Just wanna avoid that.

While enjoying Rockstar: Supernova (Suave Porn) I couldn't help but notice a startling resemblance between Mr .Gilbey Clark and our beloved, creepy Burger King. I couldn't find a suitable photo of Gilbey to back this theory up Bloggywise but I invite you to join with me watching the series to look, see and discover these matchers yourself.

As an aside, while trying to find a good picture of the Burger King I came across this article which I am not sure how to feel about yet....

Burger King The Movie

(Also here is Wilma's very specific blog about Rockstar: Supernova maybe she has or can get a good pic of Gilbey.... Suave Porn) Well...

what?

Oh!

You barely have to mention it and a picture from Wilma appears out of nowhere! Here he is in all his Burger Kingish Glory! Enjoy. Thanks Wilma!

Blabberdash

Last week in between goings on at the paddling pool and both cabins. A new term was introduced to us by Mr. G-Za:

"Titer Levels"

It was on a half ripped up brochure he was looking at and needless to say the term intrigued us and amused us greatly! We have had such great fun searching for the meaning of the term by casually throwing it into bits of conversation that I think we should all partake in a friendly game of Balderdash. So tell me, what does 'titer levels' mean to you? After all the fun and frivolity I will dutifully reveal the true meaning of the term! Or not. As I am sure it won't be nearly as fun.

Got Milk?

The other day G-Za and I were at our second home, the paddling pool, and I saw, greeted and chatted with a girl who graduated from the same school as me. She doesn’t live here in town anymore but every summer I see her around and she has an adorable little boy.

Nice huh?

So she asks which children are mine and how old they are and how long we’ve lived here and chit-chat-chitty-chat-chit!

Nice huh?

Then my 5 month old started fussing and it was time for a feeding and I did my (or what I thought was a) good mother thing and went over to feed my baby her bottle.

Nice huh?

Then she comes over and grabs a toy out of the box and nonchalantly says “Where’s the breast milk?”

Uh….NOT NICE!!!!!! No - rude! NO - bad!

There are a few things off the top of my head that are wrong with this comment actually there are about 1000 but here are my initial thoughts.

1) You just asked me, a person you had to ask the first name of, at the paddling pool a VERY personal question about secretions that come from a certain personal part of my body.
2) You have just criticized my parenting style and decisions while in the same breath assuming that what I have in the bottle is not the “precious liquid” being inquired on. And also how does she know my baby is not adopted or unable to nurse for some other sad medical reason?
3) You have just intimated to me that you would really just like to see me whip it out right then and there with a detailed anatomy lesson on where the breast milk really is! “Oh it’s right here! I’ll show you! Sure!”

People PEOPLE! There are rules of public conduct that must be followed in this world. I don’t ask for much but please PULLEASE do not:
- ask people where their breast milk is
- reach out and grab at pregnant bellies with out their clear permission and/or invitation also DO NOT ask when the baby is due unless you KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is a baby due. This hurts feelings for more reasons than I can count especially if there is no baby and for one reason or another it looks like there is. It's deserving of a whole other rant that is not blogger friendly, at least not my blog. Actually Tamado has a really good post about pregnant woman eitquettte - check it out!http://tamnado.blogspot.com/2006/07/belly-in-public-domain.html

Further More......
- Do not ask people for money they owe in the street or while they are shopping at your store. If you must ask them for the money please be discreet about it.
- And finally there’s this. And this is for all health care professionals out there. Let’s say, for instance, you had a rather large mole on your body and it wasn’t in a place that was really visible for everyone to see…..yah….and you go to the hospital to have it removed and you are in the waiting room with another girl whom you know from Smalltown and the nurse calls you BOTH to come at the same time and interviews you TOGETHER about your non-visible moles that will be removed that day. No. Don’t be that nurse.

That is all.

Twinkle Toes Attempts Murder …. (what’s she doin’ with that gun?)

Well here is my second attempt at this story and this time I have taken the advice from that Tamado across the street and am composing in Word. Now that I have already typed out this whole story in it’s entirety it seems silly to write it exactly as I did previously with the whole feigning ignorance about how to start the story and then typing words to mimick the thought process and then having a light bulb moment right here on my blog in front of all readers and THEN get into the story. Now….NOW I feel like just writing out the facts in point form in a lack luster fashion void of humour and intellect. But what then would be the point of this second attempt anyway? You’re right there would be no point……but now I think I’ve got the juices flowing again and I am ready to make nice with blogger and try, TRY again. Here goes:

The story begins once upon a horrible, awful, no good day in the life of 15 year old Flibirdijibit. Why was Flibirdijibit having such a horrible, awful, no good day? To put it plainly but not quite in point form as discussed earlier it was Flibirdijibit’s StupidBoyfriend of the time. This is really not the story - so not to put too much importance on it we’ll just say she was crabby because StupidBoyfriend treated her like poo on shoe and didn’t talk to or look at poor Flibirdijibit ALL day at school or phone her! Now for those of you who have been a 15 year old girl in the past or even just dabbled in it – this was a big deal and worth getting on a serious grump about for at least the span of 24-36 hours. Not as bad as realizing Christmas wasn’t as much fun anymore but enough to make a teen girl more emotional and easily shattered than usual. So the point is: Flibirdijibit was crabby!

Being 15, Flibirdijibit was also trying very hard to become a better driver so she could one day get her license and be all the nearer to freedom. This also would require a whole other post as most of you know – Flibirdijibit learning to drive was a very trying and stressful time for all in the Entirerooster family. She liked to practice though and decided that it was (for some reason) a good day to practice backing up. This also is not really the meat of the story so hopefully it will suffice to say that she did just a BANG UP job of ramming that little truck right into the corner of the garage! As you can imagine this did nothing to improve her already spiraling downwards, tears - welling - up mood so she decided to pull herself together and try an activity that always brought relaxation and joy every year and that was to let Twinkle Toes, her grey mangled footed kitty beast lead her to the new kittens. It was an annual event every year since she was 11- when Twinkle Toes started having kittens. The 3 years prior to that Flibirdijibit thought Twinkle Toes might prefer her own kind, but apparently she was just a late bloomer because once she got started there was no stopping her! For more info on this check out Wilma’s blog. I am sure she is pictured there with all the other pervs.

So normally the mutual agreement between cat and girl was that girl calls cat and asks cat where the kitties are and starts out towards the usual hiding spot of the fuzzy treasures. Cat obliges and leads on happily checking back every 10-15 feet that girl is still there.

NOT THIS DAY! On this day something was obviously off. Possibly a change in the understanding that could not have possibly been communicated by either party? Possibly Twinkle Toes had a sense of Flibirdijibit’s frazzled and unstable vibe? Either way, this day was different in that they started out on the path towards the kittens but about half way across the yard Twinkle Toes turned around, glared at Flibirdijibit then ran full throttle towards her leaping onto her body all the while thrashing, scratching and hissing in a matter that could only be interpreted as “Today you shall die by CAT!”. Quite startled, Flibirdijibit managed a weak shriek and frantic kick to rid herself of the nefarious (new word I picked up this week) feline and fled to the safety of her house where ~ dun dun DUN! ~ they kept the GUNS!!!!

Meanwhile, Flibirdijibit’s mother and brother were sipping coffee and enjoying the calm spring afternoon on the deck. Not phased in the least by her fit of despair running and screaming as they were quite accustomed to this behavior emitting from Flibirdijibit as she was 1. The baby in the family,2. female 3. a teen female and 4. dreadfully phobic of !BEES! Which has nothing to with Twinkle Toes BUT more often than not if Flibirdijibit was seen running and screaming to and fro it was because the threat and terror of the villainous !BEES! had thrown her into such a state. So they let her bee as it were and paid little to no attention to her episode of sheer discomposure.

However, as we established, it was not the wicked !BEES! that made Flibirdijibit flee it was the homicidal cat and sadly, on this day Flibirdijibit thought it a fair trade for Twinkle Toes to exchange her very life for the blatant attempt on ending her own, futile as it was. For it was not her legs and body being slightly injured that pushed her over the edge of reason but rather the utter devastation of her Fragile Pride by her once beloved pet which was only amplified by the aforemnetioned StupidBoyfriend that caused her to act and think so irrationally. So into the gun cabinet she went and out came the biggest shotgun she could find. Luckily for Twinkle Toes and also for Flibirdijibit's wellbeing she did not have the wherewithal to wield such a weapon without some assistance so her mother and brother then heard “get the hell in here and help me with this gun!” to which Flibirdijibit heard “what’s she doin’ with that gun?” and “what? She’s gonna shoot the bees?” followed by “GIMMEE that!” and a swift push of her body away from the firearm and the cabinet where it resided happily away from the unskilled hands of emotionally overwrought 15 year old girls with StupidBoyfriends. At this Flibirdijibit was finally released from all expectations of fortitude or the ill attempted forgery of it and was sent off to the sanctuary of her room where she indulged in a much needed blubber session for slightly longer than appropriate given the events of the day. Really, it’s what she SHOULD have done in the first place without hesitation after being delivered home from school.

The End.

Disclaimer: no animals or humans were mortally wounded or even really injured in the making of this story unless of course you count someones overly taxed feelings?

well crap! I typed up my whole Mama Kitty story this afternoon and then couldn't save it because StupidBlogger shutdown! This really ticks me off. Now it is nowhere to be found! GONE!

I discovered this website today and it amused me for MINUTES! Which is pretty good for old flibirdijibit....

http://www.43things.com/

Enjoy.

Mr. Fuzzy Shorts - with a side of creepy pinocchio.

At the ripe old age of 10 (for real this time not just an 11 year old saying she's 10) my family and my best friend's family took a vacation to Disneyland. It was a Christmas/Graduation combo present for our families since our oldest brothers would be graduating from highshcool that year and it seemed the last opportunity to take such a big trip as a family. Seriuosly, Disneyland is for 10 year olds though, right?

So anyway.....the hotel we were staying at in Anaheim was directly across the street from Disneyland. It had a pool and hot tub situated outside with a fence all around (I guess to keep 'outsiders' from coming in and using the facility?). My friend 'Georgela' and I were very much enjoying the pool with our brothers and dad's but after a while they were tired of swimming and so (and don't ask me why) they left us - alone- outside- across the street from Disneyland- at the ripe old ages of 10 and 11.

~In their defense, they were and are farmers from small town Saskabush in the late 80's. So it really doesn't surprise me that they would think nothing of leaving us alone to our own devices. I mean they left us alone to fend for ourselves back home all the time, why would it be different there?~

But I digress....

It's dark, we have moved into the hot tub because we are cold and we are not thinking about the fact that we are alone, outside in the big city at all. We are simply chattering on and on the way we always did and enjoying every moment of our Californian vacation together. While we were sitting in there an older man - whom I can only assume is an accomplice of Mr. Fuzzy Shorts in retrospect - comes by and asks us how we're doing and if everything is okay and how is the temperature 'blah,blah, blah'....then he went over to some dial on the wall near our changeroom/sauna and fiddled with it and left.

A few more minutes pass and a second man comes along wearing a towel, a T-shirt, a beard and glasses. At the tme I would have guessed him around 30. Georgela says to him as he passes by our hot tub 'Hey Dude!' he replies 'Hey' back and continues into the changeroom/ sauna where our clothes and towels are. Not realizing there was both a men's and a ladies changeroom we thought nothing of him going into our changeroom. Not sure why but we didn't.

A few minutes passed and we had all but forgotten about the guy when he made a reappearance just outside the changeroom. Georgela was facing me and didn't notice him come out and I wouldn't have paid him much attention either except there was something peculiar about his swimming trunks.......he was backed by a light and his shorts looked rather, um, fuzzy..... wait a minute! Those are not shorts at all! In fact there ARE no trunks ON this man! This all occurs to me in about a millisecond of gauking. So without moving my mouth at all I say between clenched teeth to Georgela in the style of Cameron Fry from Ferris Buellers Day Off (a favorite of ours at the time) "look over there!" She looks, I look, he is looking at us..... posing rather and, if I might add, looking 'quite excited' and 'happy' in the unshorted area. After a beat he goes back to this 'dial' on the wall and does some 'dialing' and then retreats back into the changeroom.

Well Georgela and I were out of that hot tub and up the stairs before you could say 'Mr.Fuzzy Shorts' and we ran into our dad's coming to check on us on our way! By the time they got down to kick some butt he was already gone. Never to be seen again......

Creepy Pinocchio....

This story may or may not be related to Mr.Fuzzy Shorts and I am unsure of the timeline, if this happened before or after the pool incident. Georgela? Mayhaps you remember?

I liked to have my hair 'done up' when I was a child and my mom obliged and bought me all kinds of cute barretts and such to wear in my overly done, overly hairsprayed hair. Yes I was 10 and had REALLY high bangs.

One of the days we were spending at Disneyland I was of course sporting some very stiff bangs and a very tight ponytail and some neat ladybug barretts. Well Pinocchio took QUITE an interest in my do by stopping me, and fondling patting and fiddling with my hair for several minutes. Of course it made Georgela and I laugh hysterically we even caught the whole thing on tape! But now....looking back.... is it possilbe that Mr. Fuzzy Shorts was donning a Pinocchio suit during the day?????? HMMMMM?????!!!!!!

Creep.

Now you must vote for you next selection from the crypt of flibirdijibits past:

a) Flib flies at table mountain
b) Flib flies at Cousin Vinces
c) Twinkle Toes and her Kittens...(what's she doing with that gun?)

These are some pictures of what I washed out of my carpet this weekend.....

Yes, our dog Ronin was finally adopted after 6 months being posted on petfinder.com. So I got busy and shampooed my carpets this weekend and although I was happy to have my carpets clean I am sad to see him go. So Ronin, if you are reading this, which I am sure you are because your new owners will obviously have you set up with your own laptop, webcam and personal MP3 player.........goodbye and be good.

And the Legacy Lives On

So some one should tell these girls before it's too late that they are SO not cute! I mean look at them! NOT CUTE!


Solveigh in Gramma's Chair
Tova as a Rock n' Roll Queen

Why I'm Not Cute

- the first of many stories that have shaped the dead beat I am today.

I decided that I have just too many good funny stories about me growing up and being a grown up that if I don't record them somewhere they may be lost all together. The topic of this, my first recant-a-rant (that's a new word I just made up), is the story of how I learned that I am indeed NOT CUTE! No. Not.

It was grade 6, I was 10 and we were working on gluing hundreds of popsicle sticks together to make a lamp see?


This is what we aspired for our lamps to appear like after all the messy gluing was through.....Apparently I never even completed this art project, too busy talking!

Yeah....like I say, I was talking in Art class if you can believe it and I guess I was the only one too because I am the only one that got sent out to the hall. A first for young flibirdijibit.

Yes, there is young flibirdijibit, sitting out in the hall wondering what would become of her next? What happens in the hall? What does the teacher do? What will the teacher say? Will my mother be phoned?

After quite a while, in my 10 year old mind 5 minutes would be a very very long time (in my 27 year old mind 5 minutes would be a very very long time) my teacher who we shall call........ hmmmm..... Mr. Ztruk? yes! Mr. Ztruk emerges from the classroom looking very displeased indeed and here is what he proceeds to explain in the hopes of chastising my 10 year old self for talking while gluing popsicle sticks together during art class:

'you're not cute, nobody thinks your cute (as though they had held a meeting to discuss how disgustingly un-cute I am) so stop trying to be cute because you're NOT!'

then he left me alone in the hallway again to mull over what we had discussed; me and my not cuteness. Needless to say, at the time it crushed me a little bit and I wasn't quick enough to make any smart remarks like....

'so, what you're saying is....you think I'm cute?'

No, I am sure I just sat there with my mouth hanging open (mouth breather for a long time, which also is not cute) wondering what I did to invoke such anti-flibirdijibitism.

And that my friends, is why I am not cute. No. Not.

Dead Beat Strikes Again!

So serioulsy, is there a notice out there somewhere sent to all the stores and businesses of our town about me and my 'dead beatedness' as it were? Really this is getting ridiculous. Today it was only funny because of what had happened last week and because Wilma was there to witness the whole thing and laugh with/at me. So this is what happened:

I went to register yesterday for 'something' that is happening in our town this weekend, there was a small fee to register and wouldn't ya know it, I couldn't pay it yesterday! I had no cheques with me and I couldn't pay with debit so I said I would come back. Well today while I was out running various and sundry errands....NOT AT THE GROCERY STORE EITHER.....I ran into Wilma, I hugged her as it seemed the appropriate thing to so as someone just had commented to her how she's being hugged and congratulated all the time now since she became Mrs. Puffy Unkle Kracker Daddy Jack Cap'n Kirk Man. Then both Wilma and I ran into a mutual aquaintance/friend and wouldn't ya know it she's in charge of collecting on my registration fee so there I am in the street this time being asked for my $x.xx again! It was TOO TOO funny I tell you!

Think I'll put up posters of myself around town warning all of my failure to pay and to not let me in unless I show my cash on hand first!

I tell ya with me being a Dead Beat and my husband having a whole phrase coined about his 'one sided' sharing tactics with certain beverages of the bubbly, bitter, "beerish" variety - we are really living up to our potential as citizens of our community and role models for our chillun!

DEAD BEAT MOM!!!

Well On Friday I went to the local Shop Easy to get a few various and sundry items with my two in tow.....and while I am perusing the aisles the Manager (not an original Townie) approaches me with a bill for some groceries I had charged a while ago (about 2 - 3 weeks) because I had forgotten my purse one day(thispoint does not add to my side of the case I know!) . I knew I had paid it when I saw the bill and the amount because I don't make a habit of charging my groceries and I remember having asked to pay my bill on a different day when I was in for groceries so that's what I told him, thinking he would believe me, say 'okay' and take the bill away. But not.....instead he explains that it doesn't show it's been paid and that he wiil get 'the girls' to check it out. Fine, that's fair. So feeling satisfied that they will discover the proof that I had indeed paid my bill I go about my perusal of cereal on display. Next thing I know this little 'Bull Dog' of a woman comes out of the office with my bill in hand and explains to me that it wasn't recorded that had I paid so I must not have paid it. I then try to explain to Bull Dog my case again: that I know I paid it and someone must have made a mistake and the Bull Dog disagrees and reiterated her point (as I am sure my $34.19 is a very close and personal problem for her) that I must not have paid it because the people that run the cash register do not have access to the book that she is holding in her hand. So I then stop arguing because I am already embarrassed at having my bill confronting me while I am trying to shop and being implied a liar and a dead - beat Mom who doesn't pay her bills and ask "So I should just pay it again then?". Not backing down she once again shows me her book and let's me know it hasn't been paid. So in an effort to stop the embarrassing confrontation and further hold up the days business I respond: 'Fine, I'll just pay it again, it's only $30, whatever."

Afterwards as my groceries that I had selected from the visit were passing through and tallying up I was starting to get really mad about the whole situation;

1) The being approached in front of other shoppers about my outstanding bill which I can't for the life of me understand why it wasn't just mailed to me. If you knw who I am you know how to mail it!
2)The not being believed when I say I already paid it and not given any oppurtunity to really prove that I had - which wouldn't matter any way because I have no proof to speak of other than my memory and my debit transaction from the bank the day I believe I paid it before which wasn't for the amount in question because I was paying for other food as well.
3) The 'big city' attitude towards a very 'small town' situation. I mean if their policy is to let cutomers charge their groceries which is SOOOO small town then in keeping with that policy are they not somehow responsible to trust and give their customers 'credit' in other matters such as this at least one time when I am so obviously adamant that I had already paid? I can see tracking me down and demanding payment on an overdue account if it is clear that I make a habit of not paying my bills.

Anyways, while these points were passing through my mind and my groceries were passing through the scanner I decided to not buy the $50 worth of groceries I had taken off the shelves and cancelled my order and asked, again, to pay the Stupid Bill, thinking 'I won't be shopping here anymore.'

Then I went to the Grands and told them what happened and Gramma was SO MAD! It was hilarious! She wanted to go down there right now and set them straight! 'They'll know who was right when I am done with them! Esmond! Take me down there right now!" It was so sweet to see her upset with them for me!

Anyway, I am not as mad about it now, in all likelyhood (and this is not in anyway an admission that they are right and I am wrong) I probably didn't ever pay the bill ,knowing myself, I just thought I did. I mean I am the girl who goes and buy's the groceries and just leaves them there at the store - because I am towing two and at the moment and especially lately feel quite proud that I get out to do the shopping at all - and I am the girl who goes to the store to buy groceries and forgets my wallet but I am NOT the girl who tries to get out of paying for something I owe! All I have is my memory and it just may not be correct. I am still mad about the way it was handled though. It embarrassed me and made me feel small and untrustworthy in MY town that I grew up in and they are only there because the last two fools that tried to take over the store got fired! So hopefully they do too! I won't be arguing the point about my $30 I think I have paid twice now and have no proof of but I will have to make mention of how poorly that situation was handled somehow me thinks. Sadly, I think I still have to use the store as it's the only one we've got! I need stuff and I can't just be running to the nearby town that's 48 km's away. Sadly, because it's our little small town it has to be set right, at least in my mind.

There! Are you happy Puffy Kracker Daddy Cap'n' Kirk Man? I posted sumpin'.

Gotta See the Laughing Babies!

http://www.killsometime.com/Video/video.asp?ID=465, This just made me giggle and giggle!

Jaime's Blog = BORING!!!!!

Recently, it has been brought to my attention on more than one occasion that my blog......well...it sucks! It gives me more than a little discomfort to know that all my (4) frequent readers have let me know how boring I really am. It's not that I do not have enough fodder to fuel the bloggy fire, and it's not that I don't have the time-I mean I know at least one other mother of a two month old who does very well at blogging on a regular basis for the MASS that so enjoys frequenting her page. No, it's more like 'bloggy stage fright'. Fear of disappointing all my (4) frequent readers. But now I see through extensive research (I've talked to 4 people) that my failure to blog is just that.......complete and utter failure, bringing intense disappointment & sadness to all my (4) frequent readers. So I apologize right here and now for sucking like a hungry infant at the bottle, or what have you........So here is my attempt at getting back up on the neglected little bloggy horse and giving your poor, 'inside the head of a flibirdijibit' deprived minds a break from all the unused bloggy space that is this right here. In case you are wondering, the picture to the left represents me and the neglected little bloggy horse as we embark on a new more verbose phase in our relationship. I just love Gumby! Don't you?

Here's Solveigh!!!!

Finally she has arrived! Her full name is Solveigh Liv Frydenlund and she was born February 2 at 4:37 pm. She weighed in at 6 pounds 3 ounces just like her big sister. It was a long haul to get her here but well worth the wait. Her presence has hit our home like a huge LOVE bomb! So far she just really likes to be held and adamantly protests against sleeping by herself in the crib at night so it's 3 in a bed for a while yet.....really though wasn't it 3 in a bed less than a week ago as well?

As a General Rule....

Recently my friend that I like to call 'whoa-oh Black Betty lam-di-lam' made a trek to the Big Apple to celebrate her birthday. While there, she managed to pick up this lovely 'Kate Spade -New York' hand bag for me. As a side note: I really love this new tradition of YOU buying ME the gifts to celebrate YOUR birthday.....we should have thought of this sooner! She also got herself and our friend 'Wilma' lovely 'Prada' bags.

Now, that being said I have a few easy questions that may help to get my point (and there is one) across.

Let's say you are meeting a woman for the first time and in your head, while assessing her appearance, you wonder " Hmmmm, I wonder if those are fake". Do you:
a) reach out and grab them, and ask.....'Are these real?'
b) politely keep your curiosity to yourself knowing that it may embarrass her to have such an interaction.

Also, let's just say a friend or acquaintance gets engaged and while she is flaunting her abnormally HUGE diamond around to everyone you think in your head 'Is that maybe a cubic zirconia or the other thing that's supposed to be like a diamond....ummm........moissanite!' Do you:
a) gawk at the ring mercilessly inspecting it for clarity, cut and inclusions then ask finally if it's a fake.
b) compliment her on her gorgeous new ring exclaiming how beautiful it is and how happy you are for her.

Generally I think most women would choose option b) in both scenarios, am I right? Which is good and right......

Why then, when you see myself, Betty or Wilma or any other member of the female gender out with our designer bags would you endeavor to ask the question 'Is that a knock-off or what?'. Some things are just better left under a veil of feminine mystique. Like whether we bleach/dye our hair or wear false eyelashes or attach raw chicken looking pieces of silicone to our bodies for the sake of beauty......

So here is a list of general rules I hope to follow in the future & invite you to as well:

1. If it looks blonde.....it's blonde
2. If it looks brunette, well, it must be brunette.
3. If it looks like a 36 DD, then that must be what it is.
4. If it sparkles and shines like a diamond or what have you for precious gems, then they must be.
5. If it says "Kate freakin' Spade - New freakin' York" on it then I can only assume it be that. Same goes for Prada, Gucci, Fendi and the like.
6. If you want me to assume they are not fake, except I must admit I will never buy into the hair piece thing, then ass-u-me I will. If you volunteer the falsey info on your own terms then I am glad to have gained such confidence.

Sheesh! I better get this kid out soon before I start ranting and raving myself into an oblivion! Who knew I was so opinionated?

What the.....?!!!!!

So you know how you can have your 'pooter run a little slideshow on it's screen while you are neglecting it?

Well, you can imagine my horrified surprise when I look over at my (demon possessed) 'pooter and see this image just lackadaisically floating by as if there's nothing wrong with this picture and that it somehow belongs on my screen.....which it does not as I am absolutely freaked out by old creepy dolls! I know there are others of you out there who share this very real fear and also know that my past is speckled with the hauntings of these mean little plastic creations.

I need a moment.....

okay, I think I am ready to perform the exorcism ritual to rid this image from my hard drive.

Where did it come from?!!!!!

There are two kinds of falseys, maybe three: The Good, The Bad and the OOgly.

The Good?

That includes those wonderful little silicone things that resemble uncooked chicken as an alternative to rather invasive and dangerous surgery, those who know what I am talking about you know who you are! It's also great what they can do with fake teeth now too.....porcelain veneers are good falseys. No one wants a real fire alarm so falsey's of those are okay too.

The Bad?

tattooed on eyebrows or eyeliner. Fake moles that are glued on or drawn on and of course counterfeit money. Also, I think it's safe to say that most false hair meant to disguise obvious balding could be classified as 'bad-falsey-ness.'

The Oogly?

That is hands down the 36 week pregnant body tricking you into thinking it's really 'that time' and you've already been to the city and back and have to make your husband drive you back into the city at 11 pm just to be told, finally around 3 am that you have just suffered an episode of false labour!

At least they didn't kick us out of the hospital, they did let us stay for about 4 hours to 'have a little rest' before driving all the way home again. I guess it's just good practice to have a 'dry run' to make sure we know what do before the actual not-so-falsey day. (I hope your catching my sarcasm 'cuz I am laying it on pretty thick.)

So there you have it.....old western movies will always be relevant to our everyday lives.