Archive for the ‘Humour’ Category

Our life is like drywall dust….you never know where we’re going to land   5 comments

IMG_0456A year ago today…my life was unfolding nicely. We had just finished our latest home improvement project/necessary repair of damage caused by a huge bathroom flood, and we were enjoying a much needed time out from the gang at Home Depot. Lovely people, helpful, super styling in their orange aprons; but sometimes you just have to widen your social circle to include those who don’t know the intimate details of every structural failure your home has ever bestowed upon you. It was also nice to have some disposable income again for those little extras like food and name brand toilet paper.

Did I mention we completely renovated our entire house top to bottom? I didn’t? Well let’s back this story up to the beginning of the end. ( if you chose to…now would be a good time to bask in the excitement of my flawless foreshadowing) take as long as you like. The story will continue as soon as your finished.

And for those of you just rejoining us …back to the story …or as like to call it the Reno to end all others.

It all began one morning in late August. I was headed downstairs to do laundry when I felt a drop of water land on my head. I looked up and to my horror saw that the ceiling light was filled with water and once again I knew that our house was giving us the middle finger.

The leak was coming from the ensuite. So the demo began. However, once we changed the tiles, tub, toilet, vanity and re-painted the bathroom the rest of the house didn’t quite match up. So logically we decided to rip up the rest of the flooring and replace it too. And as anyone knows if you’re replacing the floors it’s a perfect time to paint and install wainscotting …so of course we did. This was turning into a real life “if you give a mouse a cookie” situation..

Once we had finished the painting, the light fixtures looked tired so we replaced the lot, and after we shed the new light on the old kitchen cupboards well you know they had to go too. Going without an en suite for 6 months meant I had spent a lot more time in the main bathroom and it inspired me to change out the vanity and toilet in both the remaining bathrooms. I felt there should be a cohesive flow to the house and they were really the only rooms that had remained unchanged and It seemed cruel to leave them out.

Spoiler alert.. we went with the low flow push button flush option on the toilet, I thought it would get the kids excited about flushing again….it did not.

Side note. If you ever decide to change out the flooring of your house and have pets and reside with numerous people who are incapable of removing footwear or carrying a beverage without splashing it all about like a drunken cave person, you must avoid purchasing and installing black tile. It was a beautiful lesson in buyers remorse if ever I’ve lived one and I have lived a few of those in my time. But glass half full gal that I am, I managed to push through with a tiny tweak to my medication and a slightly lower bulb wattage. Sometimes the dark is the least scariest place to be.

So after all that fuss we were suddenly project-less. Having nothing on our home improvement “to do” list was something we had only ever dreamed about, an impossible goal like me finally losing the baby weight or my husband cooking an edible meal. It was our Mount Everest and we had made it to the top; and much like Everest the view from there was spectacular (minus the black tile floors of course) and for 5 maybe 10 days we were content.

You see, the thing about achieving the impossible that people never talk about is that once you’ve done it, and the dust settles ( literally…because dry wall dust can linger like a chilli fart in a hot car mid July…true story) you find yourself in a sort of anti climactic state. The day to day moan and groan of the project is suddenly over and you’ve got nothing but free time.

So we decided to travel. We went to Victoria, Cabo San Lucas ( where we got a little drunk and bought a time share…another story for another day) and finally we took a cruise from New York City up through Atlantic Canada.

And that’s when it happened; when everything changed. Caution met wind and said “what the hell” and reason and logic decided to pack their bags call the movers and change time zones. We had an epiphany and it’s name was Cape Breton Nova Scotia. One minute we’re floating on the Atlantic eating at a lacklustre buffet and the next we are moving clear across Canada a mere 6,020 km from home.

Most people thought we had lost our minds, some people even speculated we had been entered the witness protection program. The truth is we’d found a new mountain top to climb.(not literally…I have a fear of heights and feel strongly that ascending mountains that require an oxygen tank and changes to my life insurance disclosure form are going to remain forever on my “never gonna happen” bucket list)

I guess for us life is supposed to be an adventure. Never dull never boring. And in keeping with that theme….I’ve saved the best for last..

We bought our new house on line sight unseen. Super exciting ( she wrote with a thick note of sarcasm) We Skyped the house inspection and our internet connection was spotty at best. Hind sight being 20/20 I would probably remember to not do that again because apparently during one of the spotty bits we missed the part that discussed the significant furnace and plumbing issues.

So as you can imagine, It’s been a roller coaster ride from the get go. So many stories. Like the one about the the septic system backing up into the basement 2 days after we moved in. Or the one where we left our milk out of the fridge over night and it was frozen like a slushy in the morning due to the furnace not being hugely functional.

Our beautiful new home is 125 years old and leaks like a broken sieve. It might try and break us but we will not falter. And while it’s true we may just have met our white whale, only time and me will tell that story, for now we ( and when I say “we” I am referring to my husband) will strap on our tool belts and charge up our power tools. We have preferred parking at homedepot and a new credit limit is being discussed. Let the adventures begin!

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Babysitting Chaos   3 comments

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So we finally finished the house. Yeah us!,

 

We got it just the way we always dreamed it could be…it was perfect. Well…apart from the black tile floors.

 

Don’t get me wrong they were stunning…I first met them in the dust free, pet free, humans having a life free …showroom of our local flooring store. I fell in love..so elegant..so rich looking…I just had to have them…..I imagined the statement they would make when I moved them into my home…how they would majestically redefine the hallways, the kitchen, the bathrooms, the family room, laundry room and the staircase…in that moment I felt as though nothing would ever feel so right.
And then the man came and laid my beautiful treasured tile…and in an instant I knew nothing would ever be right again.

 

 

They were a mistake…huge mistake…a huge soul sucking mistake…Did you know that black tile floors expose every single fleck of dirt, dust and hair and magnify them to the power of infinity? I had to up my OCD medication just so I didn’t stand in the corner all day wielding a Swiffer wet jet like lady Macbeth…screaming “Out, damned spot.” It was a thing…I got help…it didn’t help…so we put the house up for sale.

 

 

Yes, you heard me….we decided to move…

 

 

No, not just because of the tile…I mean obviously….we’re not that obsessive….however if questioned in a court of law….I would be unable to deny ….under oath…that it was not not a contributing factor.

 
The truth is we went on a cruise and one of the places we visited was Nova Scotia and we fell in love. Not like the “black tile” love…that ended in betrayal and sadness…but real life affirming this feels like home…love. We jokingly said if there was ever a job opportunity there we would seriously consider moving.

 

 

Never joke…true story…you’re welcome.

 
Now, I’m pretty convinced the Universe eavesdrops on my off the cuff remarks like an ambulance chasing lawyer desperate to have some relevant skin in the game. I could be wrong…but just one week later, we were staring at a job offer that was too good to turn down…and 2 weeks after that we were sitting at our dining room table talking to a realtor about home cost evaluations and curb appeal.

 

 

And just one short month later …contracts were signed, our house was sold and the movers were booked. It was November 25th and in a mere 5 days we would be leaving beautiful British Columbia to start our new adventure in Sydney Nova Scotia.

 

 

You’d think the story would just end there, wouldn’t you? Probably for most people it would. But our family’s freak flag flies torn and tattered and at half mast at least fifty percent of the time so this story is not quite over yet.

 
You see we operate under the assumption that Irony and Bad Luck had a love child (Chaos- its Christian name) and when they want a night off….they leave Chaos at our house for safe keeping.
I remember it as though it were yesterday…it was Friday night and I was watching the news and a story came on about a massive flood in our almost new town of Sydney. I remember thinking it was very sad.

 

 

Now at that time I did not know I was babysitting Chaos….they truly are the worst parents….they never call ahead and make sure I’m free….they just drop him off and run…usually I don’t even know he’s there until it’s too late…and yes I have tried calling child protective services…but the last time I did they just opened a file on me….which I thought was very rude and completely unsupportive.

 

 

Anyway that night as we slept…blissfully unaware that Chaos was in our charge….our dishwasher sprung a leak and by morning our ceiling was buckling and we had 3 inches of water in our basement. It seemed that Chaos wasn’t very sleepy that night so he decided to entertain himself by making our home into a rather sad little water park.

 

We were to close on the sale of our house 6 days later.

 

 

The good news is it all worked out. Not without a modicum of trouble and strife but all things being what they are…for us…business as usual.

 

 

The bad news…It’s the end of this chapter…but don’t worry…I haven’t even got to the good part…so stay tuned…

Your Next President of the United States is….   7 comments

 

 

The countdown has begun. End of days? Maybe. Apocalypse? possibly. In my opinion the citizens of the United States are staring into the abyss…and the abyss due to its utter embarrassment is refusing to look back. I mean I assume it is…it’s not like the abyss and I are Facebook friends…but if I were the abyss I would be like…nope I can’t watch this…you people are officially on your own…it’s a pretty sad day if even the abyss won’t return your calls.

 
I’m speaking of course of the 2016 presidential election…or as I like to call it the battle between the bottom of the barrel and the sludge you might find stuck on the side of said barrel. I for one don’t envy their choices. How does one decide between a lying manipulative entitled garden gnome and an ignorant racist sexual predator with combed over troll hair? It’s not as easy as I make it sound..gnomes can make lovely lawn ornaments and trolls can manage bridge tolls and I assume also have working knowledge of expansive walls? Both have some, albeit limited, value.

 
So I would like to offer a third candidate. Now It’s a little unprecedented and I’m not entirely sure of the legalese of my suggestion but given the fact that this entire campaign has been run with the decorum of a Jerry Springer baby daddy reveal, I feel that the bar has been set so far underground it may or not have been reduced to molten steel.

 
That being said and without further ado I would like to introduce to you my mini dachshund chihuahua Wiggles and nominate her to be your next president of the United States of America. She has decided to select our Siamese cat Salem as her running mate as she feels that he rounds out the ticket with his ethnic diversity. Also it’s important to note that he has been neutered so he is unlikely to be a political liability with regards to any sexually deviant behaviour and the only “Bush” he hangs around is the one by our front door.

 
Some of you might be asking yourself what qualifies either of these four legged furry phenoms to be the leaders of the most powerful nation on earth? I say some of you because there is obviously a faction of individuals who believe that the lesser of 2 evils is the way they will be utilizing their constitutional right to vote on November 9th. If that isn’t just the saddest most demoralizing use of of democracy I don’t know what is?

 
Wiggles and Salem recognize how important it is to once again inspire and bring hope to your great nation and they are challenging all to cast their vote for the party of Barksalot and Purrsome..(working title only)

 
They are willing and currently able to leave their home in Canada and take on the most auspicious office in the free world. ( I say “currently” because Wiggles is of Mexican descent and Salem has been batting about the idea of adopting the muslim faith, so obviously their immigration status and freedom of religion may become a bit of a logistical nightmare if one of your current candidates wins the election) but I digress…

 
Their sacrifice of free healthcare and the ability interject “eh” and “I’m sorry” for no apparent reason is not something that they will easy part with. However it is their determination to reset the balance of democracy in favour of something a little less ridiculous that fuels their belief that they are the one true hope for your nation.
Also it’s important to note that Wiggles will absolutely release her tax returns and Salem has never been allowed to use our home server to access any of his work related emails.

 
If you could see Wiggles and Salem right now you’d see that their passion for governing is second only to their love of naps and snuggles. So it is with a humble heart I would like to give you this alternative on November 9th because a vote for Wiggles and Salem is a vote for furrmocracy.. And let’s face it isn’t that the best mock-racy there

I’m not….so maybe you’re not too?   2 comments

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I’ m not a lot of things. In fact, the laundry lists of things that I am not, is quite impressive if I do say so myself. For example I am not a man nor am I pigeon or a particularly skilled athlete. The latter can be attested to by anyone who has ever watched me participate in any activity that requires both my brain and my body to coordinate in any meaningful way.

 

I once dislocated my knee in the 30 seconds it took me to stand up and walk over to the dance floor. True story. Luckily the fellow with whom I had attempted to dance with was able to quickly slam it back into place. He had that skill set. So while I always knew that I shouldn’t walk and chew gum at the same time without a supervising medic, I know have to live with the painful knowledge that just plain walking is not something that I am gifted at.

 

So I’m not coordinated. I own that. I’m fine with it and if I find myself in situations that require me to perform acts that could cause me bodily harm I wear a helmet and make sure my health insurance is current. I like being prepared. That’s my skill set.

Now if I can accept what it is that I am ‘not’ why can’t more people embrace and accept the limits of their own realities?

So what’s lit the fire in my belly that has lead to yet another one of my epic over shares?

Well the answer to that question my friends is simply this: crappy drivers.

 

Just because you can spell the word “car” doesn’t mean should drive one. For example. If you consistently drive in the left lane a minimum of 10km below the posted speed limit, whilst seemingly sharing recipes with the driver keeping pace with you in the right lane. You should both immediately pull over, put your vehicles in park and burn your drivers license and or your cars. Now of course there is no law requiring to do so…but it is fair to say that driving is ‘not’ your thing. It’s ok, no one will judge for accepting this simple truth about yourself.

 

Animals have zero difficulty accepting what they are and aren’t capable of. Case in point, you will probably never see cats teaching quantum physics or sharks climbing Mount Everest. I say probably, because I am also not a zoologist and I would be remiss in speculating on the possibility of either one of these things occurring at some later date. However as of this minute it would appear it is still well beyond their current evolutionary purview.

 
So, if genetically speaking, we are all predestined to live within our own evolutionary constraints; why do so many people fight against it with every fathom of their being. It’s okay not to be awesome at everything. It’s okay to not to be much good at most things….I am in fact the living breathing testament to that statement. That being said, if you are this driver or you know this driver …do mankind a favour, stop trying to do what your not good at….and maybe just call a cab.

My social indictment of the selfie   24 comments

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What the selfie is happening to us humans? If I see one more teenage girl using her phone to take a picture of herself wearing a surprised duck face I am going to be forced to make a citizens arrest.

I could you know. It’s a thing… I looked it up….

The criminal code of Canada allows for a citizen to detain and charge an individual who has performed an indecent act. Now I realize I may be taking some liberties in my interpretation of the law, but I have watched the entire series of Ally Mcbeal and Boston Legal on Netflix so I feel pretty confident that I could make a very strong case.

I would further argue that the selfie stick should be registered and included in the list of prohibitive and restricted weapons. With all these crazy narcissists waving them about in public, it is only a matter of time before they impale some innocent bystander and or somebody loses an eye.

You know the old saying “it’s all fun and games until somebody’s on their way to the emergency room.”
I’m not saying they should do time in a maximum security facility but I would definitely advocate some jail time in that prison I’ve seen on the show Orange is the new black. Try taking a good selfie with a disposable one shot camera wearing a shapeless prison jumpsuit and posting it to Facebook. I dare you.

Sometimes I close my eyes and remember a quieter gentler time, when people had the good sense to resist the urge to capture every inane moment and faked facial expression that occurred in their lives. I’m reminded of the days of old when taking pictures was reserved for special occasions like birthdays, weddings, funerals, gathering evidence for a criminal investigation or to leverage a better settlement in a divorce. Those were kinder gentler times.

To those of you out there who are guilty of this non crime…..be warned. Life has funny way of self correcting, and if you insist on taking your picture posing like you just had your lips sucked up in vacuum you run the real risk of capturing the enduring image …..of an idiot.
Sent from my iPad

Posted January 14, 2016 by janyceresh in canada, family, Funny, Humour, ipads, iphones, Uncategorized

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In for a penny…. In for a pound.   32 comments

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Have you ever had an Oprah-esque (not sure that is a word….yet) moment when you can no longer reconcile your version of the truth with the cold hard slap in the face real life reflects back at you? It’s like waking up and realizing it is still Monday.

There you are just living your life and out of nowhere some sort of cosmic epiphany downloads to your brain which forces you to face or accept some new fact or reality. To which I always say, “Thank you real life for interrupting my regularly programmed and most enjoyable sense of contentment.”

I just would prefer to live in a softly lit bubble of fictional reality. Who wouldn’t? Truth for the most part is highly over-rated.

Sadly today, that bubble burst along with a pipe in our bathroom.

Yes folks, my home’s terrorist assault has continued and it has now begun to water board us; and by water boarding I mean rotting out my floor boards with a leaking pipe in our shower. The good news is we were able to discover the problem early when some dingy water drizzled on a friend of ours who had stopped by for a visit.

If I wasn’t before, I am now completely convinced our house is trying to break us or at the very least evict us. If my house was an animal I am certain I’d be advised to have it put down. I may have said that out loud last night…..do you think I caused this?

Regardless of who or what is responsible, we are now facing a demo and a rebuild. We considered hiring a professional to do the work, and then we just laughed and said why pay someone to do something that we can so effortlessly do ourselves? I mean how hard can it be? Some new pipe and a bit of soldering and Bob’s your uncle. Realistically, we should be able to knock this off in a day or two and be living the life of non-leakage in no time.

Now I know what you’re thinking, statistically speaking we haven’t had the best track record on home improvement projects; but practice makes perfect right? And we rarely make the same mistake three times. We make similar mistakes a lot but not the exact same ones, because that would make us complete idiots. I feel really good about this.

These are the things I’m telling myself to try and ward off the mother of all panic attack I sense is about to envelop me.

On a positive note we have decided to totally change the design of the bathroom. It was entirely too small; not even enough room to swing a cat. Not that I would, or have ever, swung a cat. (Please no letters). However, for arguments sake, I would assume that if ever the need did arise (to swing a cat) I would be unable to do so.

The new design will require us to bang out a couple of walls and re-plumb a few things….no big deal… just the toilet, sink and shower. This of course might add a day or two to the projected completion date but you know us… in for a penny, in for a pound.

Pass the brain drano…please   18 comments

image I need brain Drano..I don’t know if there is such a thing but if there is I am going need to get some ASAP. Price is no object. Although it would be great if the potential side effects of the product did not list potential death and or rectal bleeding. Not necessarily going to be a deal breaker, but it would nice not to have the worry.

I am distracted and discombobulated all at the same time. I love that word. It’s just as much fun to write as it is to say. It reminds me of Mary Poppins and that song “Supercalifragilistic”; now that was a great movie. I’m going to see if I can get it on Netflix. That reminds me, I have to get some pictures printed from our Disney trip. Note to self; find memory stick.

See what just happened there? I can’t even focus my attention long enough to finish a thoug* ( ironic typo.) Who am I kidding with that ‘note to self’ comment? Lately my brain is like an etch-a -sketch every time I shake my head the last thought I had fades to grey. I never really embraced the etch-a-sketch as a child although I was fascinated by what Will Farrell drew with it in that movie Elf. I think I watch too much TV. Excuse me I have to go flip the laundry. I’ll be back in a minute. Although it’s just as likely I won’t. How will you even know? I could have started this last April and am just now returning; not obviously from doing the laundry but from doing other stuff.

Maybe that’s my problem. There is just way too much stuff to do all the time and my brain is now refusing to think new thoughts or even finish current ones. Maybe my brain is on strike? Although you’d think it would at least give me a set of demands if that were the case. Obviously its union rep is just going through the motions.

Brains are absolutely amazing though, aren’t they? No I’m not just sucking up to my brain in order to regain its cooperation. It’s true. Here are some fun brain facts.

Did you know you can’t tickle yourself because your brain can detect the difference between an unexpected external touch and your own?

The average brain thinks about 70,000 thoughts a day. No wonder mine is confused – I had no idea I was working it that hard. I am blonde though, so it’s entirely possible that number is a wee bit exaggerated.

Laughing at a joke is no small task either. It requires activity in five different parts of the brain. So if at any point while reading this, you had a giggle, you can knock five minutes off your workout. I’ll write you a note. You’re welcome.

Do you know approximately 4% of adults live with ADD and many others have never been diagnosed? You do now.

You know, I just realized something. I thought (one down 69,999 to go) maybe I was not going to have anything to write about this week. I was so distracted I couldn’t find the funny. Then just like a reprieve at the eleventh hour my brain checked back in long enough to finish my column. Let’s hope I didn’t have to give up anything too important in the strike settlement. It would be really awful if I forgot to remember to do something important like the laundry.

Posted November 26, 2014 by janyceresh in Humour

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I’m not sick anymore….and apparently that’s a bad thing?   9 comments

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I have a feeling I am no longer cool. It is not yet official, but I have been informed by not one, but two of my children that my street cred is almost maxed out. Not sure if I can apply for additional credit, or what slippery slope I’d have to slide down to get it? Is street cred even a thing anymore?

The sad reality is I’m not sure how long I have been out of the loop; or if there is still even a loop to be out of?

I just found out that it’s not even cool to say “cool” anymore. Apparently “sick” is the new cool. Which is beyond confusing because being sick has never been something I have ever aspired to be. In fact, at the first sign of illness I usually start downing Echinacea like my life depended on it. Now I find out that I should have been embracing my “sickness” as though my reputation depended on it.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to stay current.

I listen to the latest jam (which I recently figured out is music and not a reference to a fruit preservative.) This has not been without sacrifice because listening to the repetitive nonsensical content that some popular artists spew onto the airwaves is tantamount to ear torture. Not to pick on anyone in particular but if losing my cool (aka sick) mom status means never having to hear Rhianna’s “Umbrella” ever again….it would almost be worth it. What the “Ella Ella” is she going on about anyway?

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I used to have the language down. Sadly that too…”was so five minutes ago.” Actual words have now been replaced by acronyms; LOL, IDK, and OMG and of course the most banal of them all…. the letter “k”.

I have a sneaking suspicion the reason for this trend is the youth of today can no longer spell. Of course that’s just a working theory and when presented to a focus group of teenagers the idea did elicit some serious eye rolling. The good news is that they weren’t having a seizure just indicating a reticence to agree with my hypothesis.

Keeping abreast of the all the fashion fads has also been a bit of strain. I would dearly love to have a few minutes alone with the genius who came up with low rise jeans that showcased everything from tramp stamps to little Johnny’s boxer briefs. If only there were things that I could un-see.

The world is changing too fast, it’s all about emoticons, snap chats and selfies. There is even something called the vine which I was super excited about until my daughter pointed out it had nothing to do with the production of wine. I also don’t see the point of posting mindless status updates on Facebook. Do we really need to know what people are feeling and doing every second of the day? I myself prefer a little mystery.

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I guess the truth of it is that I don’t want to be “sick” anymore. It’s exhausting and confusing. I’m okay letting it go. Not all of it of course, just the bits that grate on my nerves like white girls who sing along with gangster rap like it’s their personal truth. The fact is holding on to youth and youthful ideas are a bit like chasing a ghost. It seems like it might be fun because you’ve heard about it on twitter but when push comes to shove it is just way too scary.

Posted October 25, 2014 by janyceresh in children, family, Humour, parenting

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A very unhappy birthday to me   25 comments

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It’s almost my birthday. I couldn’t be less thrilled. I’m not exactly a fan of my birthday. If possible, I would love to skip the day entirely. Why do I need to celebrate the fact that I made it one more time around the sun? Is it supposed to be some kind of reward for not dying? I guess that’s an accomplishment of sorts, but is it really worthy of cake? Not in my opinion.

Speaking of cake, given the recent onslaught of forest fires it was suggested that I refrain from lighting an accurate account of candles on my cake for fear that it might cause the fire department to deploy a water bomber to my house. I told that person to just start running.

Oh birthday, how do I hate thee, let me count the ways.

1. Every 5th one I have to renew my driver’s license, and who doesn’t love a day at the DMV? I get my prison headshot taken by someone even more bitter than me and sometimes, I even get to pay outstanding speeding tickets! Good times.

2. People tell me hysterical jokes, like asking me what it was like before indoor plumbing and if I had a pet dinosaur. The answer is yes and he’s hungry so come on over.

3. You hear things like, “Wow, you look good for your age!” What is that supposed to mean? How is that even a compliment? It’s really just a reminder of how someday, very soon, I will appear exactly right for my age. It’s already starting, and I’m mostly held together at this point with smoke and mirrors. Gravity is yanking on me so hard that it won’t be too long until I’ll have to seriously consider putting parts of me on LoJack.

4. People buy me gifts. Things I wouldn’t buy for myself. Mostly because I wouldn’t want them, and I have taste. My husband bought be a vacuum cleaner for one birthday and it sucked.

5. One time back when I was single my girlfriends took me to a bar for my birthday. It was ladies night, and I saw things that can’t ever be unseen; believe me, I’ve tried. My therapist believes that in time I’ll make a full recovery, but it’s been over twenty years so I’m starting to think she might be wrong.

It’s not that I mind getting older given that the alternative is death, but there comes a time when your closer to the end than the beginning and it starts to get real. So keep your hollow happy birthday greetings, questionable gifts, and cakes that depict towering infernos. If you want to know what I want this year for my birthday it’s pretty simple, a little peace, a lot of quiet, and a number for a good plastic surgeon.

Posted July 30, 2014 by janyceresh in Humour, Uncategorized

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The day peace and quiet ran away   20 comments

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Yesterday, I found peace and quiet. I was so excited and overcome that I decided to put them in a safe place so that we could have a proper visit later, when I had a moment to spare. Later came, and well, I think we all know how that story ends. They are now officially missing in action; or is it inaction? I put up some posters in the neighbourhood but no one has called. I fear the worst.

I should have spent more time with them when I had the chance. Now they are gone and I am not sure they are ever coming back. I was going to file a police report but that seemed like a dead end. I knew in my heart of hearts if they had been found by someone, that person was never ever going to admit it, much less return them to me.

I was so careless and cavalier, thinking that there would be time to get to know each other better. I so desperately wanted them to feel at home where I lived; that was wishful thinking. The dogs probably thought they were a stranger and barked them away. Let’s face it they were definitely new to our neighbourhood. Everyone knows peace and quiet can be quite skittish when confronted with two nervous chihuahuas.

The strange thing is that they seemed to enjoy spending time with me as much as I did with them. It seemed that we had a real connection in our short time together. Maybe I was just deluding myself; maybe I was just a rebound for them. They probably had a fight with some Buddhist caught in traffic and needed a soft place to land until the dust settled.

Now, I’m left with 2 radios; one blasting hip hop and the other some sort of angry rap music. The kids are fighting over dishes and my husband is in the garage using tools powered by an air compressor. There are no less than three televisions on, and the dogs are talking to everyone who walks within a block of our house. I’ve been reduced to speaking in a voice loud enough to be heard in Beirut in a vain attempt to get everyone to shut up, shut down, and shut off.

It seems like my life at the moment is not a safe place for peace and quiet to reside. I get it, I guess. Perhaps one day we will meet again. I wonder if we will know each other when and if we do? Will I smile and embrace them as old friends, or will I feel awkward and not know what to do or say? Will I miss what I will have to give up to have them stay? Is losing the busy chaotic bustle of my loved ones when they finally fly the nest the price I’ll have to pay to win them back?

Sadly, with the housing prices these days, I have the sneaking suspicion that my children will be residing with us for a good long time to come. So, I guess I’ll just have to keep looking for peace and quiet and see if maybe they have a guest room I can stay in from time to time.

 

 

 

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Tea first, panic later.

One girl's story of fighting mental illness in the big city