laughingmama

I Love Christmas Music...

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 20:01:00 +0000

And I love Sinead O'Connor!
I think this is one of the most beautiful renditions of Silent Night ever:

Let The Feasting Begin

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 21:15:00 +0000

I love Christmas. I start playing Christmas music in November. The tree goes up the first week of December and stays up until after New Year's. I love the lights, the tacky decorations and the cheesy television specials. And I especially love the food. For me, as for others I'm sure, December is a month of gross indulgence. Here is an example. Yesterday afternoon T. and S. presented me with an early Christmas present - a box of my favourite chocolates:

At about 7:oo p.m. this is what was left:

And on my way to bed last night I scooped the last one...

That's not the worst though...yesterday I made two dozen peppermint delight cookies - today, I am ashamed to say, the cookie jar is almost empty.

Scary.

Sad.

Gross.

I am sure as the holidays progress I will share some more of my gastronomical adventures. But for now I must go listen for the pizza delivery guy.

I'm too full of chocolate and peppermint delights to cook.

Autumn From Hell

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 00:18:00 +0000

Well, I had been planning to get this blog active again, but obviously that did not pan out! T. and I have had an absolutely horrible autumn. Lots of angst, tears and drama which I may or may not write about at a later date. But for now, I am going to start slowly easing my way back into the world of blogging and see what transpires.

Slacker of Gigantic Proportions!

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 18:13:00 +0000

I have done nothing with my blog for almost two months! Yikes!
I think it's time to shit or get off the pot.

Not My Day...

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 12:13:00 +0000

This morning S. decided that 4:30 a.m. was an appropriate time to wake up. I was not in agreement and spent an hour trying to get him back to sleep. Finally I gave up and we went downstairs. I bumbled my way into the kitchen to get S. a drink when from the living room I heard "uh oh", followed by a series of grunts and bangs. I went to check it out and discovered that in the night we had been invaded by ants - a sea of tiny black specks was swarming around the room, and S. was gleefully chasing them with his toy hammer. I took a sticky roller in one hand and started to pick up the ants, using the other hand to prop my bleary - crusty -not nearly enough sleep eyes open.
It's not shaping up to be a good day.

Ooooh, Tassimo.....

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 21:56:00 +0000

This is not an advertisement. I just really like my new coffee maker.

I recently purchased a Tassimo coffee maker, after spending about a year mocking it and the fools who would spend over one hundred dollars one. "It's all marketing", I proclaimed,"There is no way the lattes taste like real lattes. It's just a coffee maker, and the ads are stupid. Humbug!" I grunted.
Then my aunt received one for Christmas; a last ditch effort by my uncle to keep his retirement funds from being completely squandered on daily double doubles from Tim Horton's. From that first family dinner, I was hooked. Tassimo makes a great cup of coffee. Granted, the lattes are not as good as Starbucks or Second Cup. And they don't look nearly as pretty as the above picture. But overall, they are not bad. Drinkable, certainly. Even passably enjoyable. But the regular coffee is really, really good. And for someone like me, who tends to waste a lot of coffee by making a full pot, a single cup system is perfect. Starbucks even has T-disks for the Tassimo system, which I love. They cost twice as much as the other T-disks, but hey, it's Starbucks. It's strong, it's good, and it's trendier than Tim Horton's. Who by the way do not have T-disks for the Tassimo. Which disappoints my aunt, who continues to frequent Tim's. But is fine by me, because Tim's coffee sucks.

Tales From the Campfire

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 18:12:00 +0000

We went camping last weekend.

It rained.

T. forgot to put the rain fly on the tent.

S. had a cold - a big fat thick yellow snorky-snot kind of cold.

I had an emotional meltdown and spent the first evening alone in the van crying and peering out into the darkness for bears and/or horny hillbillies

I forgot to pack pants. How exactly does one forget to pack pants?

West Nile disease is almost a certainty given the quantity of mosquito bites scabbing over on my body. It will be interesting to see if the West Nile gets me before the Lyme disease - I'm pretty sure there is a tick embedded in me somewhere. I know these things.

Oh yeah, we are going again next week.

Some grey pictures from our soggy, foggy trip:

Hairs To Ya!

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 18:52:00 +0000

My hair sucks.
I have always wished for beautiful long hair, thick, wavy, silky smooth hair that does what I want it to.
Somehow my hair manages to defy nature on a daily basis, being both fine and fuzzy, wispy and bushy. One side always turns up, while the other side invariably turns down. Truly, my hair sucks.

I am into yet another attempt to grow out my hair. For the majority of my adult life I have worn my hair short, but every couple of years I get the urge. The urge to grow my hair long. Somehow I convince myself that this time things will be different. This time my hair will be thick and luxurious. It will be immune to humidity. It will be symmetrical. I am not a stupid person, and yet I actually believe this to be true. Somehow, at 36 years old, my hair will go from this:
to this...

Part of the problem is that I lack the skill and patience to deal with all the hair tools. Curling irons, straighteners, diffusers, mousse, gel, sculpting lotion, pomades...not for me. I sometimes put some mousse in my hair for extra body, or some kind of "smoothing" paste to tame the frizz, but no matter what I do, it lends up looking the same: thin, fine, bushy, wispy, lopsided, sucky hair. I feel like time is running out. As I approach 40, it seems like the time for long, bohemian hair is coming to an end, in preparation for the short and sensible cuts of the menopausal set..yup, 40 is only a few short years away - bring on the Crocs and Metamucil!
So I will try one more time.
Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

Revenge of the Ants

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 18:03:00 +0000

I hate bugs. All insects bother me, with their creepy-crawly multitude of legs and beady vengeful eyes...I hate them. If I wake up screaming from a nightmare, you can bet there was an insect in it. Dreams of murderers...meh. Dreams of appearing in front of my entire junior high math class naked...sucks but no biggie. Dream of a spider on my arm...screams loud enough to terrorize T. and wake the neighbours. Unfortunately, I seem to have passed on my insect loathing to my son. Now, unlike me, S. does not seem to fear bugs - instead, he has become a bug-basher. My big mistake was teaching him that ants are for squashing with our feet. He has taken that a step further. He now keeps a plastic toy hammer in the yard specifically for ant-bashing. He likes to squat next to the compost bin, armed and ready for the next ant-appearance. It is kind of cute, in a potential serial-killer kind of way.
A couple of weeks ago I was outside talking to our neighbour, while S. played with her 1 1/2 year old daughter. Our neighbour is a "green" type of woman, into earth mother-ish, vegetarian organic living. As we were talking, an injured baby bee was bumbling around the sidewalk. Just as I felt my foot moving forward to squash said baby bee, neighbour lady said to her child "look Sweety, a baby bee" and scooped it up on a leaf to show her baby. Well, I pulled my foot back in time to save face, but then S. came over to see the bee and any pretense of respect for bugs was lost. As the little neighbour girl was studying the leaf and injured baby bee with delightful coos of appreciation, my darling boy began grunting and making wildly aggressive hammering motions...yup, that's my boy.

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Fri, 23 May 2008 14:10:00 +0000

Fourth severed foot found on B.C. coast

Fri. May 23 - 4:31 AM

VANCOUVER (CP) — Another severed foot has washed ashore on the British Columbia coast.

It’s the fourth found in less than a year, and police don’t know if there are any links between them.

Cst. Nycki Basra of the Richmond RCMP says a passerby contacted police at about noon on Thursday after spotting the shoe on Kirkland Island, south of Vancouver. Like the three other feet, it was firmly nestled in a shoe.

In Febuary, the remains of a right foot was found on the east side of Valdez Island.

Last August, a foot was found inside a man’s Reebok sneaker on a heavily used trail on Gabriola Island, just a few days after another foot was discovered by beachcombers on Jedidiah Island.

This story reminded me of what T. and I lovingly describe as the summer of death. Before S. was born, we did a lot of camping, hiking and exploring. This particular summer it seemed like all our travels were overshadowed by death, decay and general grossness. First there was the beautiful day at the beach. We were splashing around in the water when from the corner of my eye I noticed what appeared to be a golden retriever swimming up next to me. Upon closer examination, it was not a dog out for a refreshing swim. It was a deer. A dead deer, complete with broken neck, slowly meandering past my bare legs, tongue lolling, tendrils of seaweed gently dangling.
A few weeks later we were strolling along a wooded path when we spotted something lying in front of us. It was a foot. A severed foot. Now, unlike in the story above, this foot was definitely animal, not human. Not nearly so weird and unexpected as finding a human foot, complete with sneaker. But still, it was weird. It was very cleanly severed, almost...medical in it's precision. And lying next to this severed foot? A big, steaming pile of shit, still fresh. I turned and was beating it out of there when unseen to me T. threw a rock into the bushes next to me to make me think there was a bear following us. Because you know, it's funny to terrify your already frightened girlfriend. Yup. Funny. I let him know just how funny I found his little joke by bursting into tears and running even faster. Did I mention that I am not really much of an outdoors woman? Easily frightened by thing both real and imagined, seen and unseen, which lurk in the woods? Why do men find stuff like that humorous? Oh yeah, because they are stupid.
That same weekend we were walking through a national park which encompasses both coastal and woodland area, when on the path in front of us we found a very large, very dead, seal. It had been sliced through the belly, entrails hanging, just all around gross. But the weird part - we were away from the coast. Too far for the seal to have made it's way under it's own power. It was a pretty fresh kill - and we were not interested in meeting up with whatever had carried the seal to this lonely path. So we turned ourselves around and backtracked, chubby legs carrying us as fast as we could go.
So that was our summer of death. Nothing too traumatic, just a little odd how closely together the events occurred. I guess it's too be expected that in spending time in the wilderness you are going to encounter signs of life and death, but still, that summer stands out in our memory. In a kind of creepy way.

Springtime

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Fri, 23 May 2008 04:37:00 +0000

I think the best thing about spring is the smell - that rainy, earthy, sweet yet heady scent that speaks of new life and new possibilities. In honour of spring, I thought I would post a few pictures from our garden (I use the term garden lightly, as it is really an abundance of weeds with a smattering of tulips...)

Funny Forward I Received...

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Thu, 22 May 2008 03:51:00 +0000

They're Back!

Church Bulletins: Thank God for church ladies with typewriters.
These sentences actually appeared in church bulletins
or were announced in church services! Enjoy!

* * *

The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.

* * *

The sermon this morning: "Jesus Walks on the Water." The sermon
tonight: "Searching for Jesus."

* * *

Our youth basketball team is back in action Wednesday at 8 PM in
the recreation hall. Come out and watch us kill Christ the King.

* * *

Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of
those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.

* * *

The peacemaking meeting scheduled for today has been canceled due
to a conflict.

* * *

Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile
at someone who is hard to love. Say "Hell" to someone who doesn't
care much about you.

* * *

Don't let worry kill you off - let the Church help.

* * *

Miss Charlene Mason sang "I will not pass this way again", giving
obvious pleasure to the congregation.

* * *

For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a
nursery downstairs.

* * *

Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all
the help they can get.

* * *

The Rector will preach his farewell message after which the choir
will sing: "Break Forth Into Joy".

* * *

Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the
church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.

* * *

At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is
Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.

* * *

Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of
several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.

* * *

Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be
recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.

* * *

Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased
person you want remembered.

* * *

The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment
and gracious hostility.

* * *

Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM - prayer and medication to follow.

* * *

The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They
may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.

* * *

This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park
across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.

* * *

Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 AM. All
ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. is done.

* * *

The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the congregation
would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast
next Sunday.

* * *

Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please
use the back door.

* * *

The eighth- graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in the
Church basement Friday at 7 PM. The congregation is invited to
attend this tragedy.

* * *

Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian
Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.

* * *

The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new tithing campaign
slogan last Sunday: "I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours."

More Random Crap

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Tue, 13 May 2008 23:43:00 +0000

Something weird happened to my laptop last week. I am not technically savvy so can't really explain what is wrong, but T. seems to know and is working on it. It remains to be seen whether it can be saved. I miss my computer. I turn it on in the morning, leave it in either the kitchen or living room, and anything I need through the day can be found with a quick finger flick: an appointment scheduled in my calendar; my bank balance; a recipe idea for supper; a Google search based on some random thought that pops into my head; ideas for entertaining a cranky toddler; symptoms of my latest hypochondriac obsession; a move or two on an ongoing Scrabulous game; and reverse phone number checking so I can know exactly which collection agency I am avoiding. Not to mention Entrecard dropping; blogging; Facebook snooping and my daily calorie/activity log (which has helped me lose 10 pounds so far - woot!).
Yes, I am a computer addict. I actually feel a sense of panic when I have no internet access. Things are not that bad right now. T. has brought his laptop from work home for the evening for me to use (hence my ability to write this post). But it is not the same. The keyboard is different. I miss my stuff, my calendar, my favourites list, my pictures. Say a little prayer for my laptop, that she may be returned to me soon, whole and healthy.

On the work front ...

Actual conversation between me and the shift supervisor last night:

Supervisor: You know who Jane* is? I laid a strip into her, man. I heard she was talkin bout me behind my back. I have no use for people who fuckin talk about me behind my back. If you're gonna fuckin talk bout me at least fucking say it to my face. Cause if I find someone talkin bout me behind my back I'm gonna knock their fuckin teeth out. I'm not some fuckin two year old.

Me: (nibbles on cookie and stares at clock willing my break to be over) Yeah.

*names changed to protect me.

On the home front...

I had a wonderful day with S.
After his playgroup we met T. for lunch, then I took him on a short bus ride to the park. We rolled in the grass, played chase, collected rocks and twigs, then went for an ice cream sundae.

Twas lovely.

Update.

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Wed, 07 May 2008 02:11:00 +0000

Working is hard.
I am ashamed to work in a coffee shop.
I am tired.
My name is not "Doll", "Honey" or "Sweetie".
My hair smells like donuts.

Tired, Lazy, Thief

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Wed, 07 May 2008 01:55:00 +0000

Stolen from another blog.

one word answers

1. where is your cell phone? purse
2. your significant other? upstairs
3. your hair? sucks
4. your mother? dreamer
5. your father? deadbeat
6. your favorite thing? kiddo
7. your dream last night? forgotten
8. your favorite drink? coffee
9. your dream/goal? yard
10. the room you are in? cluttered
11. your hobby? books
12. your fear? death
13. where do you want to be in 6 years? yard
14. where were you last night? work
15. what you're not? thin
16. muffins? buttermilk
17. one of your wish list items? teapot
18. where you grew up? suckville
19. the last thing you did? scratch
20. what are you wearing? pyjamas
21. your TV? news
22. your pets? old
23. your computer? laptop
24. your life? fortunate
25. your mood? blah
26. missing someone? yes
27. your car? van
28. something you're not wearing? underwear
29. favorite store? Pier 1
30. your summer? short
31. like someone? Hmmm
32. your favorite color? red
33. when is the last time you laughed? today
34. last time you cried? last week

Waiting For A Sign?

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 00:46:00 +0000

Because I have been busy training for my new job at the ~~pit of pestilence and festering evil~~ coffee shop, as well as preparing for school, I have seriously been neglecting my blogging. So here is an easy post that requires very little effort or creativity on my part. (Like about 75% of my posts...)

I love funny signs. Here are some oldies but goodies:

Yeah, I Am Cranky Today

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 03:41:00 +0000

I took S. to the playground today. There was a little girl there of about six, playing alone while her middle-aged grandmother sat on the bench. The little girl repeatedly tried to get her grandmother's attention - look at me, watch this, watch me - and finally the grandmother barks out "I'm busy!". Until this point I was only vaguely aware of the grandmother, but she sounded so mean I immediately whipped my nosy head around and took a closer look: yes, she was so busy...playing a fucking scratch lotto ticket!
Lift your greedy head from the ticket and look at your granddaughter. Better yet, get off your lazy ass and play with her.

I wanted to kick her in the crotch.

Instead I heaved myself into the sandbox and played dump trucks with S.

People suck.

Yup, Going To Hell

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 16:17:00 +0000

I am so going to hell - this story made me laugh.

Priest goes missing after floating off during helium balloon stunt
Tue. Apr 22 - 4:46 AM

SAO PAULO, Brazil (AP) — A Roman Catholic priest is missing after floating away with hundreds of helium party balloons off the southern coast of Brazil.
Rescuers in helicopters and small fishing boats are searching off the coast of Santa Catarina state, where pieces of balloons were found.
The priest lifted off from the port city of Paranagua on Sunday afternoon, wearing a helmet, a thermal suit and a parachute.

I really hope he is found unhurt.

But something about the way the article is worded makes me giggle.
I am a terrible person.

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 16:01:00 +0000

Pity Party, Population One

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 03:25:00 +0000

I am feeling pretty stressed these days.
I don't do change very well, and a lot is changing.
I am finally going back to school to finish up my second degree. What with working, baby and life, a two year program has turned into five years (and counting). I am so close to finishing now, it would be ridiculous not to go back. And upon graduation, my earning potential will go up significantly. In the long run it will be better for our family, but the thought of papers and group projects and piles of reading just makes me want to crawl under the blankies and hide.
School is also absurdly expensive. When I decided not to return to work after my maternity leave, we had to make some financial sacrifices - tuition just isn't in the cards. Hence, change number two: I am starting a part time job. In order to keep S. out of daycare, my job options are limited to evenings and weekends...and the only offer I have received is from a coffee/donut shop. I start training tomorrow. I find it humiliating. I shouldn't, but I do.
The thought of smiling politely at rude customers, trying not to mess orders up and serving people who I have worked with/gone to school with, all the while wearing a hair net, makes me want to curl up under the blankies and hide. No, actually it makes me want to curl up under the actual bed, nestle with the dust bunnies, and whimper.
I hate change. Once it happens I am usually OK. But anticipating change freaks me out.
Off to bed now.
Whimper

Sometimes I Just Don't Feel ...Fresh

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 01:51:00 +0000

Ladies, did you know that there is a womanly offense graver than bad breath or body odour?

I came across these old ads for "feminine hygiene" douche products. I find them both funny and sad. These are the ads that my grandmother would have been bombarded with. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It's not a whole lot better now, with feminine products emphasizing "odour protection" and "freshness". The underlying message being that without these products women are un-fresh and stinky. Oh, and "discretion". You certainly wouldn't want anyone to know that you menstruate. The horror!
Click on the photos to enlarge.

Dream A Little Dream...

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 01:07:00 +0000

I find dreams to be very interesting and...weird. Stuff that I would never ever think about in waking life, at least not without questioning my own sanity, flows through my nighttime brain with ease. The other night I had a particularly bizarre dream which has stayed with me. In this dream, the cremated remains of Jesus Christ had been found, and had to be transported across the ocean to a safe locale. These remains had been entrusted to the one man who could get the job done...Al Waxman. Yup, The King of Kensington was given the awesome responsibility of carrying the ashes of Jesus in the pocket of his bomber jacket. My role was apparently to accompany him on the cruise ship for protection. No worries, Al. I've got your back.

It was all very da Vinci Code -ish. The da Vinci Code meets The Love Boat.

I have not seen The King of Kensington in years. I can honestly say that I never think about Al Waxman, and truthfully, I don't spend that much time thinking about Jesus on any given day. So, what would bring these images together in my sleeping hours? Is there some deep, hidden meaning that I am just not getting? Or is it simply a convergence of random, electrical impulses?
Weird.
And interesting.

Could It Really Be....Spring?

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 00:29:00 +0000

For Book Lovers

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 01:31:00 +0000

Have you ever found yourself wishing you could remember the title of a book you read years ago? Perhaps a childhood favourite whose name escapes you, but you remember that it was about a haunted doll house, or a talking dog...This is a great website for finding those half-remembered stories. I have found a number of books that I loved when I was younger. This is a book that I enjoyed when I was an adolescent, but I could never remember the name of it.

Thanks to Loganberry, I can now scour the used bookstores for a copy! I wonder if I will find it as creepy as I did when I was 11...

Nostalgia, Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer) — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 15:49:00 +0000

I was searching on eBay the other day and found a huge amount of vintage Avon "collectibles" for sale. When I was young my Mom and Grandmother bought stuff from each and every Avon catalogue. It was guaranteed that at least one thing in my Christmas stocking was an Avon product. I wore little girl Avon jewelry and played with Avon figurines. My Mom and Grandmother slathered their hands with Avon lotions, and every bath was filled with "Skin So Soft" bubbles. (Skin So Soft - the stuff people now use to repel insects and clean toilets...). The Avon Lady would visit on a regular basis, sitting at our kitchen table drinking tea and gossiping while plying her wares. At Christmas she got a card and tip, just like the mailman and paperboy.
Looking at the "vintage" products available on eBay, I was surprised at just how many I remember from my childhood. Here is just a smattering:

Was there any little girl in the seventies who did not have "Precious Doe" perfume? I liked the giraffe. I played with it a lot, but I don't think I ever wore the perfume.

I believe these were Easter presents. I kept them for a long time, until I shunned all things pink and cute in favour of things black and mournful.

When I was really small I loved Gilroy the Ghost. He glowed in the dark and I used to hold onto him at night when I was afraid. He came with lip balm. Of course. Ghosts, lip balm...about as logical as a giraffe filled with perfume I guess.

This pincushion never held pins. My mom had it on "display" on a shelf. I used it as a fancy Barbie chair.

These two items are still in a closet at my grandparent's house, collecting dust.

The top item is a candle my grandparents still bring out every Christmas. It is older than me and the smell still takes me instantly back to Christmases past. The second items are fancy Christmas soaps that I remember we had, although I think ours were white, not green. Does anyone ever actually use these soaps? Ours were just there to look "pretty", take up valuable counter space, and get dusty.

I know that Avon is still around, although I'm not sure that the Avon Lady is the institution she used to be. In these days of instant gratification, who wants to wait 2-3 weeks for a lipstick?