I think I'll go hide out under there. I just made you say...

The worst part of underwear shopping is the prejudice you get for certain places. Like in say, Lasenza, you see 5 pairs of undies (thong or full-bum, lacy, racy, cute or sensible, and in a rainbow of colourful butt fashion)  for 25 bucks and you think 'what a steal!' and you start sorting through these trays of messy piles of missorted and random sized gotch like an Adventurer looking for the Golden Panty.
But say you go into Walmart. Or Target, name your box store, and that switch gets flipped, from deal-finder and savvy shopper, to the person who is MOST CERTAINLY NOT an insane cheapskate and crazy sweatpant-catpee-talk to yourself maniac, just a person who sticks.to.the.list. GODDAMMITT!! (but there's always room for chips and Catfancy). Somewhere deep in the recesses of your deal-savvy brain, a signal gets lost in translation, the signal being that somehow 6 rolled-up, pre-packaged hanes-her-way undies for $15.00 is Not a better deal than the(probably) same underwear that has been touched by countless ladies, not to mention store clerks, boys who think they're being funny, uncomfortable or even turned on boyfriends and husbands, etcetera, for ten more dollars.
Because all the sudden you feel a little uncomfortable buying your unmentionables in this massive store surrounded by people, wailing children, security cameras and Muzak. You feel like maybe although you know your family is on a budget and that is the only reason you have made as an acceptable excuse for being in such a store, that buying your chicken, shoes, tub stoppers, and then Underwear in the same place is below you.
I have to admit when I list those things together, Chicken, Shoes, Tub stoppers, Underwear, and then Video games, books, kids toys, fishing gear and transmission fluid-It is just a list that Should require more than one store. Ingenious really on these stores behalf to offer a little of everything and a lot of nothing.
But it still makes me uncomfortable to think that the boyshorts currently riding up my crack are on the same receipt as my new thermostat, my son's winter boots, and a weeks worth of meat and random produce. Maybe I'm just paranoid and read into this stuff too much.
Maybe I have a tiny version of my father on my shoulder repeating over and over in a comically high-pitched voice exactly what my aversions are.
Maybe I'm just regretting the choice of underwear and making other excuses. Who knows. But I do know one thing. This is the first article of clothing in my entire wardrobe(hair elastics and nail polish included) since I've been in charge of dressing myself, that is Pink. So that's something.

damn depressing, if I do say so myself

here I sit. At my desk. In the dark. and it's already 9:30 in the morning. Why am I in the dark? because the sun refuses to shine upon us until close to 10am. Then it takes an early leave around 4:15. So that means that I go to work before the Sun comes up, and Leave after it's set. All work and no sunshine to play around in, or even drive in, makes me a bitter person. If only I could have some snow. Snow is helpful in illuminating a dark night, or morning and afternoon with. plus it gives me a damn good reason to get outside. Without snow, it's just dark and cold out. With snow, it's a night-time winter wonderland in which to whisk my kiddo out to play, make forts, have snow-ball fights, go sledding, make snow angels, eat (be careful about this one), and pile on slides only to knock it down. Childish fun!!! where's my Childish fun?!? I demand that it snow. RIGHT NOW!!!
thanks for tuning in to my hissy fit. better stuff next time. I promise(hope)

Come one, come all, to the hell that is my X-mas!!!

Ever been so tired that you're not really sure whether you're actually awake or not? Well, that's the position I look forward to being in the next few weeks. X-mas is coming. Whether we like it or not. And due to the overwhelming appreciation for booze and theatre in Bellybutton SK (where I live), and due to the fact that I serve in a "Theatre", I get to witness all sorts of appreciation to both very soon. We have a new show in the theatre, Called Playing Doctor, that if you don't think about when you see it (like, at all...) isn't really that bad.

In a nutshell (literally) the play is about an up and coming writer who's spent the last few years living with his best friend, in the quasi-lap of luxury, on his parent-paid college fund(he was supposed to become a doctor, duh). Twist: His rich parents-CEO dad, trophy mom- come to visit him out of the blue to see how his doctor practise is doing. So he hires his best friend-a shitty actor- to get some acting buddies to play patients, and then, yep, Plays Doctor.

And Hilarity ensues.

The recipe? Think of it as bad british slap-stick, throw in some really painful groaners(Groaners means horrible joke for all twisted sickos out there.. like me) a coupla chicks barely dressed, and some self-righteous semi-nudity.Then wrap a shitty plot around it, and presto. This is what I get to watch for the next month and a half.

Luckily, I also get to serve selfish bastards and their women booze while I'm at it, so yay for tips!!, and boo for un-called-for ass grabs from old yuckies, people who think they don't have to tip for drinking coffee(We still serve it to you, where the f*ck did you think it came from? I don't see no Juan and donkey roaming about) and disgruntled women who realize that the buffet isn't all it's cracked up to be.( I mean, come on. No matter how you dress it up, it's still a stuff-your-f*ckin-face-before-it's-all-gone kinda thing. One step up from piggies at the trough. As for the women-only reference, come on guys. You know you don't taste it. That stuff's just for soakin up the booze so you can drink more.)

So yay for working. And yay for two jobs. And yay for no sleep.
Now where did I park my Juan?

Day of Rest-easy-chore-day

I'm thinking I will take sundays off from writing stupid shite. After all, I take my sundays off from every other job, and this means I have more time to spend away from computer and more time to spend on laundry, dishes, folding my mounds of laundry, and of course, doing that whole rest on Sunday thing that the religious peeps do. . . hahaha! I almost wrote that with a strate face. Couldn't do the whole religiousity thing if I tried. but seriously, can't type and do laundry at the same time, so. taking my sundays to be distracrtkeds-I mean distracted by my son.

The potty adventures.

I remember when I was potty-training my son how long it took him to go. A really long, long, time. I mean, really how hard is it? get in, get on, get out right? well, it took me about three weeks before I learned that that was what he was doing, he just had to stop in the mirror after, and tell himself he was sexy. This was also back in the time when he'd strip down in front of people and tell them he looked sexy and then dance. I try to block this from my memory, but lack the refinement to do so. I also remember when he took his first poop in a potty. he was impressed. I was grossed out. He wanted to take a picture (just like a little man!!!) I said no, and then he replied, 'But Mom! It's soo Big!! pleasseee?' I'm proud to say that I never gave in, though I did giggle and snort like a little she-pig. And that is the reason why whenever my son takes a crap, he will tell everyone how big it is. which is just Fan-Tast-tic.

Oh! the ninja's you'll see!

This weekend has been quite interesting on it's own, what with Ufc fights, parties, general craziness, and my sonny boy singing his new favorite song, 'I'm a butter butt, and I'm okay', to the tune of Monty Python's famous Lumberjack skit.

My favorite bit, however, was introducing my two kitties to a dog so that when said dog comes to visit, they won't go all kitty-ninja on him, and get their little furry asses kicked.

-not a smart idea, don't you agree?

This puppy is extremely well-behaved, and was pretty much ignorant of them for most of the night, as there were people around that were more fun to play with. It was only once in a while that you could see puppy's eyes swivel to meet my smallest cat, and within their staring matches, you could just see the indecision on pup's face.

'Squeezy chew-toy! go up? or flatten? which will make bigger squeak? *pant*'

(at least that's my interpretation of what was in pup's mind, I just can't see a dog speaking in a more verbose style than that, you know? I just can't hear it saying something like, ' That skittish feline is making me a tad sprightly and waggish, I just can't surmise whether I shall use gravity's force whereupon my paw will meet her head, or if I shall use my snout to launch her in the air to my extreme enjoyment. .. damn there goes my tail again...'. although it would keep my imagination more wordy, I can't justify thinking this will come about in a dog's head)

NEWAYS,

After three hours approx, Little kitty figured she would exert her fearlessness and dominance and lay down a coupla feet from puppy, and they seemed happy-ish, until Little kitty decided that 3 feet wasn't good enough. So she got a little closer, up on the chair of course, gotta keep your escape routes open, and they went nose to snout for a second or two. Then, Little kitty gave a small hiss, puppy looked unfazed, and they were both done with each other. Bit anti-climactic really.

The Bigger kitty, however, would have nothing to do with him, and looked like she was going to attack the entire time we tried bringing pup in Her-I mean My room. We gave up after a while cuz she was making the cutest sounds out of her chest, and she kinda looked like when you mold a happy face in plasticine and then you pull the cheeks back and it starts looking evil? you know? whatever. she didn't look happy anyways.

So all in all, my weekend was pretty- well, pretty boring, but I spent it mostly with people I don't mind, so it's alright in the end. Plus, just writing this made me realize how little I know about how to talk. or write.

This post has been brought to you by http://www.thesaurus.com/, and by Becky's complete lack of knowledge on the English Language.

and Today's Letter is...

This is a going thing right now. Sonny boy and his letters. numbers, days of the week. he's got it all. and pretty good too. only his phone number is eluding him, and somehow, that seems most important. but I still can't help but think, that I have had nothing to do with his learning. and I know I'm right.
hopefully I can help in the future.

APOC*burp*ALYPSE!

AHH! Quick! Someone come up with 50,000 models of a car that goes on methane made just for saskatchewanites! we have the cows and pigs! and the old farts too! mebbe even some young farts to help out! where did that engine that ran on french fry oil go? Is Mcdonalds in the Oil and Gas industry yet? yech. I can't afford my gas at 1.34/litre at the creeway gas store, and now you tell me that it's gone up another 11 cents? Seriously freakin out here.

bugger you . you suck. Major goats. and anyone telling you otherwise is lying. You know, sometimes I just wanna scream Canada, you traitorous bitch, how could you? and then I remember something about having to be patriotic,so I get down on bended knee and pray to the gas gods for patience and forgiveness. Then I remember I'm an athiest and I get back up and start ranting again. hey wait a sec. isn't oil only at 101-something? isn't that not much of a leap from what it was like a week ago? where's the long weekend? that's usually the only reason they raise the prices this friggin much. oh wait. another natural disaster is gonna do the trick apparently. you know, I heard this funny little rumour a while back about when one of the alberta premiers wanted to keep the oil in canada, mebbe even alberta and refine it and what not so that gas prices would stay reasonable? do I even know what I'm talking about? mebbe not. all I know is that I'm gonna need a third job to pay for the gas to get to and from my first and second job. bugger.

HALLOWEEN!

ok, so it's a little late, but not too too late, so I'll tell you all about it.
So The Last week of October, my son has had a bad flu,(this is a reminder, Please, get a flu shot, to save the ickies.) So, sonny had been spiking temps of about 103.-whatever since Monday the 29th, and was not in the best of health for tricky-treating. But, alas, daycare is such a wonderful place, that by the time pick-up time came around, he was up and about, full of Motrin, and running a wonderful little 'I'm goin tricky-treatin! yay for candy' rant, and since his dad had promised a week before to take him out, I couldn't really say no. Could I? so off home we go, and by the time we pick up daddy from work, the little tyke is passed out. yup, snoring in the car seat, oblivious to the whole day. Should I have just moved him from car seat to bed and not even tried the rest of the night? said enuf is enuf, and be done with it? probably.
so we get home, and daddy gets sonny out of the car seat, and sonny wakes up and lo and behold, starts the rant again. Now this whole rant was really kinda cute to hear in a way, since he was losing his voice, and it was coming out a squeak, so it kinda sounded like he was daydreaming. huh. So we get home, and bring out the spider man costume, figure we can tour the apartment building, and go home. Here is the first trial. even though Logan has worn the costume before, He doesn't want to wear it with clothes on. so we take off the clothes. Then he doesn't want to wear it at all. He can't understand as we try to explain that you can only get candy if you dress up. 'I can't wear it', he wails, and for a kid that's losing his voice, that's pretty impressive. So we ask why, and he replies' I can't tell you' and then proceeds to get really upset. So I ask Daddy to go put on his chef whites that he wore to work that day, and tell Logan that Daddy dressed up for candy, can you? NO. but if both daddy and mommy dress up for candy, then can you? NO! and more balling.
So this goes on for about, oh, 10-15 minutes, and then finally I tell daddy to calm kiddo down, don't ask him any more questions, and I start rooting thru the boxes in the storage closet for years past costumes. can't find anything. Start looking in my closet and his for anything that he can dress up as. Can't find anything. Then, on the brink of everyone bursting into tears, I find a pair of kiddy wranglers that good ol' uncle Hungarian and auntie got him for the Christmas before, that were a couple sizes too big, and I can't say inspiration hit me,... it was more like desperation. So in the background with Logan wailing, and daddy only slightly freaking out, and me more so, I find a vest that I wear and a cowboy hat I have that badly needs reshaping, and ask Logan if he wants to be a cowboy. NO. the wails get worse and after yet another failed attempt at explaining that only dressed-up kids get candy, it's daddy's turn for a brilliant idea. How about we just get you re-dressed and then go out for candy?
ok.
So we put him into the wranglers, and then a sweater, and then another sweater, and then his big boots, and a scarf, and get a pillow case. Sneaky. At this point we ask him if he wants to wear the cowboy hat. Big mistake. The wailing starts again, and at this point the mommy-meter for patience wears out, and I go 'OK! NO HAT! LETS JUST GET A BASEBALL CAP AND PRETEND YOU'RE A FARMER!'
But we bring the hat along just in case.
So we decide to go outside, to the street just behind us that Logan and I have meandered through many times before, and when we get to the first house, I ask sonny if he wants to wear the cowboy hat.
Ok.
AHHHH! I should have known.
So we get to the first couple of houses okay, including the one guy who just moved in and was renovating, so he gave Logan a couple of granola bars and a box of kd, then shut his porch light off. So as Logan is finally getting into the spirit of things, we get to this house in a cul-de-sac thing, and Logan goes up yells(as best he can, which isn't much with no voice, so mom and dad have to help) tricky- treating! and this little old lady answers the door, and she falls all over him like he's the cutest thing she's ever seen and of course in doing so, boosts up said parents egos and confidence, and then she asks him The Question.
'Are you a cowboy?'
and at this Logan looks so offended, and responds angrily' NO! I'm a Logan! '
and the lady lets out a twitter, and says 'I'm sorry, we don't get many Logan's dressed-up here."
and Logan says, 'I'm not dressed- up! Don't talk to me'
and turns around.
yeah.
Fan-tastic.
So after mass apologies, and I think the lady wasn't too offended, she still gave him raisins, and we're on our way. So I think Logan cheered up a bit after that, and did his usual flirting, and got mass handouts, and I do mean mass handouts, we hit 20 houses or so, and Logan filled half a pillow case. There was even one house, where the parents were ready to take Their kids out, and so they gave Logan like six bags of chips. This was also the house Logan met spider man. There was a five-six yr old dressed up as spider man, and he gave Logan one of the bags of chips, and you can just see His eyes go Wide! and soo surprised, and he says,'HI SPIDER MAN!' and goes to give this kid a hug, and I'm glad this kid wasn't older and more wary, cuz he returned the hug, and Logan is just glowing. His dad and I didn't really have the heart to tell him that spider man is a little taller than 3 foot 3. And after we hit one side of the street, it was time to go home, as his dad and I were taking turns either holding the candy-filled pillowcase, or holding Logan, and to tell the truth, it was hard to tell which weighed more.
So we get home, and logan gets back down to his diaper, and mommy dumps out the pillow-case to search for tainted goodies, and it wasn't bad, I only threw out a marshmallow thing and the box of raisins. I swear some people should definitly check expiration dates if they're going to give out healthy food. I don't condone it, in fact I recommend it, but really. Dont just give it away cuz it's been in your cupboard for the last five years, and you can't bring yourself to throw it out....
so that is the halloween story, and it's pretty scary, at least parts of it are in my eyes.
Stay tuned for more adventures from the Tiny Pianist!