Happy Hallowe'en!

It was my very first one in our house and it was fun! We live in a very new subdivision with a lot of younger families so I was ready for the kids. We got a huge bag of candy at Sam's Club and another bag of lollipops, I wasn't going to run out.

Quite a few kids, although trick or treatin' time was only from about 6pm to 8pm. They had to go home to bed. I didn't have a single 13 year old dressed in baggy pants and shirt, holding a dirty pillow case saying "Trick or treat" in a deep, baritone voice.

We had a cool pumpkin carved by the artist Mr. Stinky. It's got a snot ramp and everything! I especially like the stitched lip detailing, very cool!

Our next door neighbours were very festive and did their house up very nicely. Loud, scary music, cobwebs, flashing pumpkins, an impaled head on a spike and a giant, furry spider sitting on his car. I heard more than a few terrified screams and crying from the younger kids passing by his house.

A couple of highlights:

>A little boy about 3 or 4 dressed as a tiger tripping all the way up the four steps to our front door getting out of breath, was so excited he was panting and yelling "Twick oh thweet! Knock KNOCK! Twick... twick oh thweet!" before I had the door opened. His dad was watching from the sidewalk and I tried not to laugh, he was so cute! (The little boy!)

>Another boy about the same age dressed as a hockey player complete with a helmut flew up the stairs in such a rush he almost did trip and fall face first onto my concrete porch. He must've pre-tanked with the sweets coz he was going a mile a minute, couldn't stand still and was off before the candy hit the bottom of his pail with me yelling after him to be careful. His mom was laughing from the sidewalk that it was a good thing he was wearing the helmut.

>A very shy little 5 year old boy who had to be nudged up to the door by daddy. He was dressed as The Cat in the Hat and was very leery of me. Dad urged him to say the magic words, but he was shy and continued looking at me with the same suspicious expression. We smiled and shrugged and I dropped some candy into his pail. He looked into his pail, then back up at me and still had that same expression on. Like, "that's it?" His dad laughed kind of embarassed, thanked me and carried him off.

>A little girl about 3 who was so cute I forgot what she was dressed up as. Her mom was watching from the sidewalk and she was so little she could barely climb the steps. I squatted down, so did she and I let her pick. Here's what she said "blelabalalebhle this ong", I offered her to pick another one and she repeated approximately the same thing. I ended up grabbing a few more things and shoving them into her baggy just coz she was so cute.

Heee. The kids are so cute! We'll do this again next year and I'll be giving you the full report again.

How Old Am I, Bitch?!

I suppose I can break the news that we didn't win the $54 million lottery jackpot. That's not the story, although if I did I'd totally let you know how I planned on frivolously wasting my newfound wealth. ;0)

I'm the ticket buyer in the relationship. I pay $2 at the kiosk for whichever lottery I feel like playing (bigger jackpot!!) every week and never see anything back again. It's a great game! It's never a big deal; money on counter, grunt a few words and put a useless little piece of paper in my wallet. Same routine, every kiosk, every convenience store.

Yesterday Mr. Stinky decided to buy a ticket as well... increase our chances a little. Y'know, from 1 in 14 million to 2 in 14 million. Good odds. However, and I say that with great disdain, he got carded. Yes! The guy actually asked Mr. Stinky to prove that he was at least 18 years of age. Holy crap, this sucks so much! I NEVER get carded! Not for lottery tickets, not at the movies, not at the LCBO and not at The Beer Store. What the hell?!? And it's not just this instance, he gets carded buying alcohol too!

Now I know for a fact that by law, if you look under 25, if there's even a suspicion that you may be younger than you are, you must be ID-ed. It is an enormous insult to me that since I hit my early 20s I am no longer asked to prove my age.

Do I look old? Do I have a receding hairline, turkey wattle or toot around in my little scooter? Do I wear shapeless dresses that end just high enough so that you can see my nylons drooping down my calves? Surely someone might think I could be a 17 year old trying to sneak some cheap booze out into the parking lot to get drunk with my other underaged friends and end up peeing on the side of the store and being all youthfully rowdy.

I get so excited about being asked for my ID that I will actually sing to Mr. Stinky right there "I got car..deddd!" Usually my driver's licence is ready to go before I even get to the front of the line, that's how much of a loser I am. The only place I get carded is at the casino, but that's coz they got stiff rules and I'm sure going with Mr. Stinky helps a lot since apparently he looks like he could be under 18 years old.

Who doesn't want to look younger than they are? I've been moisturizing since I grew hands. Oil of Olay: twice a day. I started using it because it's what my mommy used and she smelled good. Come tell me I look 19, my fragile ego needs it. Flatter me a little, it does the complexion good.

What Have You Forgotten?

I was washing my hands this morning and the song "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" popped into my head. I started singing it. I made it halfway through and got stuck. I realized that I had forgotten the words to this song.

How is it possible that my childhood seems so far away in the foggy past that I can't remember the words to such a simple, but universal song we've been singing since we were little? It disturbs me more than a little that this is happening not because the song has meaning to me, but what I told myself would never happen has indeed occurred: I've grown up and forgotten. I've become a boring, stale adult and I lack the imagination that used to entertain me faithfully.

I don't see things in the clouds anymore, or wonder how I can get around like the Care Bears do without falling back down to earth. It's been a long, long time since I've looked for that fallen and hollowed out log to crawl through that would take me to Fred Penner's place. I don't walk home now pacing myself so that my foot lands exactly in the middle of the sidewalk slab. My thoughts now are filled with such things like bill payments, deadlines at work, groceries, keeping the house clean, kids or no kids, mortgage and gas prices. It's disheartening that I'm feeling older than I am and I don't have space in my head to think about silly kids' stuff anymore.

We all have to grow up. I accept that, heck I spent my first 18 years or so trying to do just that. I just never thought I'd become old. I don't want to get to adulthood and forget about how to be young, a kid or think about something other than regular life. I have to go Google the words to the rest of the song now, because I still can't make the words come back. I have to rely on a machine to bring back my childhood.

Paging Dr. Dick...

My doctor is sending me to a specialist, it's nothing serious. A second opinion, really and that's about all I'm willing to share. I called to set up an appointment, this was August. I called and was told he could see me in mid-November. I got to pick the time. Gol-ly! I can see where my tax dollars are going. What if I had some nasty, bubbling growth coming out the side of my face? "We'll see you in 4 light-years then, OK dear?" Anyway, I stressed to the secretary that I had work (like everyone else) and needed a late appointment so as not to miss too much of the workday.

Last Friday was PMS week. I received a message on my answering machine. It seems that they decided to move my appointment... to 1245pm. What the fuck. Did my request about a late timeslot go right out the window? I guess when you have to book your appointment before time began, paper was invented and common sense came about details are bound to be left out. Let's see, I go to work for 3 hours, take a 1 1/2 hour ride on the Rocket going the speed of a hamster on a wheel to the specialist, wait maybe another hour for him to finish picking his toenails and playing Hangman on his deskpad, see him for about 5 minutes.. long enough for him to tell me everything's fine. Return flight to work ETA 1 1/2 hour, try to do something productive for an hour and go home. Weee! Too late to call Friday, so it had to wait until Monday. Week of constant irritations and discomfort. Get it?

So I call Monday and the chipper receptionist answers the phone. I explain my situation and she says it had to be moved because the doctor decided to close earlier due to blah blah fiddlesticks. It really didn't sound important. Already stewing from the situation and having her being so damn chipper didn't help. I asked why they booked a 4pm appointment if he wanted to go home at 330pm. Blah twee blah. I told her I needed to go to work and didn't need to be graced by his presence in the middle of the day. Oh, I just realized what I called him in the title. It's not for that... I don't have one of those. I just wanted to call him something rude and derogatory.

So finally I told her to give me another appointment because I wasn't taking the 1245. She flips some pages and cheerily tells me he's available in December. More than a little exasperated I ordered her to give me something on or around the original date in November I had booked. I wasn't going to wait another month for him to look at my nasty, bubbly-growth (I'm joking). I realize it's not her fault, I know I got a lot of irate callers when I was working for my former manager. It's frustration, if I could take it out on him instead I would. Y'know, maybe I still will... after he tells me I'm OK. Huh. What do you know, all of a sudden he can see me same day at 245pm.

I bet she bitches to him and he gives me lots of terrible news when I see him.

Mmm... Chunky's Turkey Stew

That's what we had for Thanksgiving. It was not the same, no sir. Let me explain.

Long weekend, what did we want to do? Something away from home, that was for sure. No money for anything fancy, it had to be simple. What's the answer to all of life's queries: ROAD TRIP!

Yes my dears, we drove from the GTA up to North Bay, across Sudbury and settled in Chutes Provincial Park just outside of Massey (~1 hour west of Sudbury). We like Northern Ontario, actually we like Canada a lot and are determined to explore as much of it as we can. Why spend a ton of money to go down to all the has-been-to places like the Caribbeans, Kon-Tiki Europe and other exotic places when you can check out the icebergs of Newfoundland, the polar bear capital of the world in Churchill, Manitoba or the Rockies of the West?

So OK, that was the first day. We set up camp in the park which closes end of the weekend. It was isolated and quiet, it was beautiful. It was also friggin' cold! If you've never camped in sub-zero temperatures in the fall when the air is extra crisp, go for it! It's definitely an experience to sleep in multiple layers and a toque which I'm glad I had the foresight to bring and snuggled up to your honey for warmth. It was so dark we couldn't see in front of our faces... which resulted in Mr. Stinky's nose almost taking out my eye and lots of giggles.

Second day, we headed to Sault Ste. Marie, crossed the border into Michigan (McChicken..hee) and headed south. You may be surprised, but Americans in the north are very courteous and hospitable. We took I-75 down to Saginaw and cha-ching! Birch Run Outlet Mall/(Town). Apparently, it's a big shopping attraction with a ton of stores that people (especially Asians) flock to. It's less than 2 hours from the Sarnia-Port Huron border. Check it out: http://www.primeoutlets.com/cntrdefault.asp?cntrid=1015

We were going to stay at Pinery Provincial Park which is north of Sarnia but by the time we got to the area it was about 9:30pm and we didn't feel like setting up tent in total darkness. If we had gotten there sooner it would've been super cool to sleep in the cold and complete darkness again. So we just decided to keep heading east to home. Of course by the time we got home it was after midnight and everything closed for Thanksgiving Monday. No turkey for you!

Luckily we had a can of the above mentioned can of Thanksgiving dinner substitute. Mmm..bleh. I hope your dinner was better than that. It's cool, we're rebels at heart. Unconventional and unorthodox, we're going to have turkey this weekend. When turkeys are on sale. Take that! In your eye, guy!

Dear Cute Guy

We get off at the same stop and live down the street from each other.
The world was our oyster, we could've had it all.

My crush on you has come to a screeching halt. Today, lacking any subtlety, no warnings for me to look away, you raised your arm and sniffed your armpit. I agree that B.O. is unattractive, but the sniff test should always be done in privacy or at the very least in a smooth and random manner so as to be able to pass off the gesture as a chin scratch or a backwards look over the shoulder.

How can you expect to woo a girl with such crude manners? Did you think I would swoon because you proved to me that you can produce such a manly musk? You'll always be cute in my books, just not attractive. I'm sorry, you had potential.

Sincerely,
The girl on the bus you might've looked at.

Sam I Am

I do not like shoot outs

I do not like the Ottawa Senators

I do not like Aki Berg

I do not like Nik Antropov

I do not, do not like Tomas Kaberle

I do not, will not like Daniel Alfreddson.

I do not like green eggs and ham.

Dear Diary

There's a really cute boy on my bus. I think he looked at me yesterday.

Heeee....

Why A Yea Was So Cool

He had been a (high-ranking) soldier in China and thus could be strict. He certainly had a no nonsense attitude. When we were both much younger he punched out my front tooth. It had just started to move the day before, so I did what any kid would do. I ran around wiggling it around with my tongue and fingers, showing anyone who had eyes. This irritated A Yea coz kids can be irritating, and he thought it was disgusting. He called me over and said he wanted to look at it. I opened my mouth and to emphasize the loose tooth, used the tip of my tongue to move it back and forth.

A Yea held my head with his hands and with one thumb punched in my tooth quick as lightning before I had time to pull my head away. I spent quite awhile bleeding into the lake with my face half submerged to ease the pain while he walked away satisfied that this wiggly thing wasn't going to bother him anymore. It hurt, but at least the tooth came out and I had a new trophy with which to show off to everyone.

He was also like a kid. We got a little older and I didn't get into as much trouble as I used to. I was hyper, had ants in my pants, got into trouble quite often (altho in my defense, a lot of the time I didn't even know why I was in trouble) and had a knack for breaking many, many things I touched. It wasn't unusual to find him with one of his 8 grandchildren on the couch talking and giggling and being silly. He'd ask me about school and if I had a boyfriend, I'd ask about his crazy Chinese opera music, what he was reading in the Chinese newspaper and anything else that came to mind.

He was smart. He spoke English, having gone to school in the States and had lots of stories about the old days back home, in the army, raising his 6 kids with A Ma and later travelling around the world when they retired. He was stubborn, open-minded and was a great influence on everyone around him.

How many people can say they had such a cool grandfather?