I'm too Lazy to Link Everything in this Post...

I've always considered myself the "smart" one. The "responsible" one. The "reliable" one. Sometimes even the "considerate" one.

Yeah.
As of late, I've been reconsidering that.

I mean why couldn't I be the "cute" one or the "fun" one?
I have lots of people tell me how much I make them laugh - so why couldn't I also be the "funny" one too?

But that's not the way I've been leaning. Lately? It's more like I'm the "how-do-I-get-through-life-being-this-flaky??" one.

Exhibit A: My computer chair. Pretty basic - there's a screw/knobby thing on the bottom. Turn that and voila! Chair. Unless you're me- who has it sitting upside down in my living room for weeks until my father comes and puts it together. Like the bookshelf that time last year. Like my washing machine a few months ago. Like my ...well...you get the idea.
(Please note, this is not laziness - I made many attempts to put these things together/fix them, and came to the conclusion that I'm simply incapable).

Exhibit B: My car. I needed a boy friend to teach my how to pump gas. When I was 23. Until then I only ever went to full service stations. Even now, I can't do anything more complicated than put air in my tires. Even the car wash stresses me out. Lord knows I don't know how to check the oil or change a tire.

Perhaps you're thinking this is because I'm a girl?? Nope, I can crash and burn on both unisex and typically girly things too. And really? Most women I know are more than capable of doing the things listed above.

Exhibit C: Coffee. Just this morning the office assistant showed me how to make coffee. This is not the first time I've needed someone to teach me how to do this. I don't drink it, therefore it's dead to me. Until I get told that if I schedule a meeting, I'm the one that should be providing coffee. Crap.

Exhibit D: Voting. You may have heard that Canada just had an election. My person was kind enough to explain to me the other day what the difference is between a majority and a minority government. Now that I've learned that basic sixth grade information, I can't quite work out why we (the people) would ever want a majority government - but that's a post for another day.

Exhibit E: Local news. Ok, so I did know that there was an election - but really it was hard to miss what with all the phone polls and lawn signs. But I couldn't figure out yesterday why people kept commenting on the newspaper. They were going to save money on that ad they ran. Do we have to pay for the paper? Huh? So apparently one of Winnipeg's major dailies is on strike. Like I care about the news.

Le sigh. How do people keep up with EVERYthing? Making coffee? Politics? Cars?

I used to think I was a relatively intelligent person, but occasionally I wonder if my vast knowledge about Shakespeare, Jane Austen and accessories really counts for that much.
Seriously people - do you just keep me around as flaky comic relief?

Are there classes on just getting through life that I could take??

xo

Vapourz

So I agreed to have my family come over for Thanksgiving. I complained about it to everyone I knew. I freaked out that my place wasn't going to be clean enough. I worried that the children would be bored. I agonized over the fact that 890 square feet was not enough to fit 14 people - even if 4 of those people were little ones.

But at the same time I was happy. Happy that my family was going to see my place. Happy for the opportunity to be domestic. Happy to prove myself.

My brother and I had a fight two weeks before the event. I had asked him to help me pick up the table ahead of time and he said no. He told me that it wasn't too late to change my mind (isn't that a line used on brides-to-be, not someone hosting a family dinner?)

He made me doubt myself. He made me feel like I was stupid to suggest that this be at my condo. Stupid to think that this was a good idea. It made me wonder if my family wasn't just humouring me. Then when I remembered that no one told me that I didn't have to offer my place, it made me wonder if I wasn't doing this too late. Like my family hadn't already written me off as selfish - and that it was about bloody time that I stepped up to the plate and offered this.

My step-mom told me about how she had to consult with a friend to find out how to transport the chicken (we don't do turkey) to my place safely. My father offered to bring more cutlery. I discovered that the plates didn't match. The china set that I inherited from my mother only had 6 settings.

Then the day arrived. My step mom asked me to have the oven on at 200 for when she arrived. My step sister called and asked how big my oven was- regular or apartment sized. I had no idea how to answer. It looked the same size as every other oven I'd ever seen, but I'd never measured. My moment of panic passed after she hung up and I realized that I did in fact grow up in a house and it was the same sized oven as my parents have. Silly.

I didn't know what to do about all the oven requests. What about what I have to make? What about the harvest rice? What about my apple crisp? When do I make those? In the morning? They'll be cold by dinner time! People are supposed to come anytime after 3:00! What do I do?!

So at about 1:00 I started on the rice. Beautiful wild and brown rice presented in an
acorn squash. Very fall-like. I felt myself calming down as I was making it. Something about the vapors and the chopping. Very soothing and therapeutic. I love baking. But there's something about cooking that's even more comforting. Less pretentious. (Says the girl who eats a tuna sandwich for dinner every night).

By the time I started slicing and peeling the apples I was content. Everything was going smoothly and really? It was just my family. My step-mom lived with me. Odds are, she wasn't going tobtoher showing up with a white glove checking for dust. She knows my housekeeping skillz (yo) and anything I did to my condo would have to be an improvement over my habits from my University days.

So apparently "anytime after 3:00" means 4:45. Well, it was after 3:00. So I had lots of down time. I was 3/4 of the way through a movie by the time everyone arrived. I was almost too well prepared.

And then everything is a blur. My step-sister forgot to bring extra chairs, so the kidlets had to sit on the couch & floor to eat. I think it worked out better. And my brother-in-law, who rarely talks to me started chatting with me. Hmm. It only took 15 years for us to become friends. Nice.

And the finale? The best thing that came out of all of it?
My brother leaving me a message the next day saying that he was sorry that he misjudged me, and that the whole thing was fantastic. I almost cried.

I just hope that I never have to host Christmas. Cause seriously? I can't handle that kind of stress.

xo

The One Where I Talk About Children

Darlings, forgive my negligence of late. I am feeling rather low and uninspired. I certainly don't want to turn this into the "depression blog" as I've seen some of those and after a while they bring you down to the point that you just don't want to read them anymore. But lately I've been feeling sad and rather than bring all of you lovelies down with me, I took a little hiatus.

Anyhow, I DO need to share with you my Thanksgiving festivities from yesterday. It may spread into a few posts, as I think I received ample inspiration from that one event.

Today's post will be slanted toward children.

Now I don't know if I've ever discussed my thoughts on children. I have a couple of nieces and nephews and I love them dearly. I don't know that I want any of my own. I am convinced that I would be a mean/overly strict parent. I find children nowadays kind of appalling in that they don't receive adequate discipline because parents seem afraid to do so. Perhaps the maternal instinct will come to me late, but for now I am content to adore and spoil the little ones in my family, and then give them back at the end of the night.

Aside from freaking out about food and space and cleaning, I was concerned that the little ones would be bored and cramped. So I actually put some time and thought into what they would be doing while they were here.

I dedicated a room to them. I pulled out my old barbies, brought down my dollhouse and furniture and put out on display my precious tiara and fairy wand. OK, the girls were covered.

Uh huh. There are two seven year old boys that I need to worry about now. What do I do about them? I don't know how to work boys. (On sooo many levels, but that's not the point of this post is it?)

Ok, what can I do for them? Oooh, I have some art supplies. That should work. I loved to draw when I was little. K offered me her mini DVD players, and then was an absolute saint when she thought to bring me some kids movies too. (I didn't think to ask for those- I realized belatedly that all I had that might be kid appropriate was "Hairspray" and some "Animaniacs" cartoons. And the Animaniacs are questionable when it comes to "appropriate".)

Ok, we're set. The kids have a room to themselves. They can even play on my computer if they want. They all have Webkinz. This should be enough to amuse them for a few hours, right?

I looked around the room in satisfaction. It was fantastic. No adult ever took care of me like that before. The kids would never have to leave the room! They would eat, and play and everything would be fantastic. I mean, they wouldn't go into other rooms right? There's nothing fun in the kitchen or the bathroom or my bedroom or anything.

So, yeah. That "special box" that I keep beside my bed? The one that's completely innocuous? The children wouldn't look in there right? I mean I don't need to hide that or anything do I?

I remembered when I was 21 and my parents went away. I had a bunch of friends stay over, and my boyfriend and I stayed in their room. Yes, we had sex. But there was no reason to check around the bed. I saw him dispose of the condom and the wrapper. And then the parents came home. And found the second condom and wrapper behind the bed. Le sigh.

Uh huh. Just in case maybe that can go up into the closet. On the top shelf. Behind some books.

So the children arrive. (Oh yeah, and the adults too). The girls are 4 and 9. The boys are both 7. J, the 9 year old immediately starts snooping. "J, there's nothing for you in there. " "J?" Ok, go ahead and tear apart that chest withmypreciousgiftwraptagsandcards...no problem. Oh yeah, go through all my jewellery too. My linen closet? Go ahead- that's super fun for kids.

It was hilarious. I would like to think that I would never have snooped through a grown up's things like that, but I do remember finding my parents' room fascinating. So I guess my place had the same novelty. I have to admit, I was pretty surprised though. The kids were EVERYwhere. Who knew that my bathtub was a fun place to hang out in. Good thing I clean all over...

The only casualty was a figurine that I was silly enough to leave out. I can't even blame the kids for not telling me that they broke the head off. I mean who wants to risk getting in trouble, right? Easily fixed with crazy glue.

I am super happy that I moved that box though. Who needs to find my erotica and battery operated boyfriend? And I have to confess, my concern about that? Not so much about the kids seeing it- but the possibility that it might result in my Dad finding out about it. I don't need that round of therapy.

Anyways, the kids seemed to have fun in the end, and that's all that mattered.

Next episode: the food, seating and dishes...

What's Been Going On

Wow, I don't think I've ever gone a week without posting before! How did that happen???

I tend to avoid just doing regurgitations of everything that I've been doing- most of the time I just kind of slip it into the midst of whatever I'm ranting about. However, in this case maybe a little catch up might be enjoyed?

1. I ignored both the VP debate and the Canadian election debate on TV last week and watched Supernatural instead. Sorry, Stephen Harper, you just doesn't come even remotely close to the beauty that is Jensen Ackles.

2. My darling K dropped off some books to me a couple of weeks ago. She insisted that I should read this book "Twilight." I'm sorry isn't that the book-turned-into-a-movie that bumped the Harry Potter opening from November to July or something? I'm sorry, I'm mad at that book! So anyhow, I started reading on Friday night, finished the first two books by Saturday night. On Sunday I picked up the next 2 books, and I finished them last night. Uh yeah. Harry who?
(As an aside, to anyone who's read them- are you on team Edward or team Jacob??)

3. So I got more TV. I didn't have enough you see, so now I have time shift and all the movie channels I could ever dream of. And yet I still couldn't manage to watch both "Private Practice" and "Criminal Minds" last Wednesday. Somehow the time shifting didn't work. I'll have to sort that out for tonight somehow. (If anyone can tell me what happened on the premiere of PP, I would appreciate it).

4. I took a break from reading to hang out with my 9 year old niece for a couple of hours on Saturday. I'm sorry when did 9 become teenage? Did I use that much slang etc when I was that age? Did I care about shopping that much? And who are the Jonas Brothers???

5. I haven't bought any shoes this week.

6. I'm freaking out about Thanksgiving this weekend. I think I'll do a photo post of the process after it's all over. Ugh, including all the cleaning that I have to do.

7. I haven't talked to my Dear Anon in a while. Have you checked out her new blog? It's fab!!

8. I got Iron Man from Columbia House in the mail on Friday. It made me happy. I really like the Tony Stark character. I got used to Batman who's all broody and tormented. Tony is just...fun!

9. I had a weird email conversation thing with yet another internet dating boy. He made it quite clear he's only interested in one thing. *Le Sigh* Why do men put themselves into the "Relationship" category when really they're only interested in the "Booty Call" category? Don't waste my time buddy.

10. I'm over my unrequited blog crush. who wants to be the next object of my affections??

xo

The One Where I Talk About Shoes

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