Americanuck

Sean’s got back into an arty spurt of late and has been busy at the kitchen table (after stealing some printer paper) drawing his cartoons. Not traced or anything, if it’s not an original drawing, he eyeballs it and draws it from another source.

I find it quite annoying that both the Boys are so artistic and I’m so, well, not. They can both play musical instruments by ear and drawing is no effort for them. I had a guitar years ago, agonized over my Beatles chord book and managed to eek out Norwegian Wood before packing it in and handing my guitar to my Sister, who also to my frustration can play by ear.

Uh… well at least I have a nice personality.

So I get off the train at my regular station, make my way to my car and do my usual ‘get ready to drive’ routine. You know the buckle up, put on the shades, reach into my bag to grab the cell and put it beside me in the console within easy reach. As I look at my cell I noticed there was a missed call from home and the time was shortly after four which meant I was probably in a tunnel when they called and there ain’t no reception down there….

With a bit of trepidation I return the call and Sean answers. I ask him if it was him that tried to call me and he says yes. I asked what the deal was and he goes “Ummm well Chris didn’t flush the toilet so I flushed it because I wanted to use it and it over-flowed.”

This is the Boy’s bathroom, the room we NEVER EVER EVER use. I mean NEVER. Am I clear about that? No? Ok NEVER! If you knew them you would know why. I can clean this room top to bottom and still wouldn’t want to use it. It has boy cooties.

Anyway, I had visions of floaters dancing in my head and asked him what they did about it. “Oh well Chris got a bucket and a mop and soaked up most of it, then he used towels to do the rest…” TOWELS????????????? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!

Oh my GOD! “Can you please get Chris????” I asked Sean. When Chris gets to the phone I asked him what happened and what he did. He claims that he just used the toilet and flushed. I said that Sean said he didn’t flush and he said he did, he guessed it didn’t flush all the way. YOU THINK?? I swallowed and asked him “Ok, any poop floating around on the floor or anything?” (cringe cringe). “Nope, it’s still in there” meaning the toilet.. well that’s something I guess.

So I asked him if it was true he used towels to soak up the water. He said yeah but only after he used the mop (the mop that is so being thrown away finally). I asked “WHICH TOWELS?” He told me it was their own dirty ones. “OH MY GOD WHY DID YOU USE TOWELS??” I screeched. He said he couldn’t think of anything else to use.

I then asked where the towels were… and he told me “In the washer”

Ok EW. NOW we have to run that thing with bleach before our clothes go through it again. I don’t care he did another load of his stuff right after. EW EW EW.

I get home and before I change race into the bathroom to survey the damage and to deal with the clog. Sure enough there is a plug and Chris had washed the floor a couple of times since the flood with the swiffer. I discovered however that our plunger has seen better days. As soon as I went to plunge it turned inside out (into a bowl shape) and I had to use the inside lip of the toilet to flip it back, at that moment it splashed me.

Ew.

So I get a good connection and flushed while plunging away… it wasn’t moving, water rising, I pick up the pace and pull up on the handle and WHOOOOOOSHHHHH there it goes. Thank GOD. Sean pauses a second and says “Looks like you’ve done this before”
Yeah, because of THEM. Over the years they have plugged more toilets than I care to remember.

I had to wash my hands about ten times cough*OCD*cough.

I feel so dirty…

I don’t like to spend a lot of money on anything, I mean essentially I’m a very thrifty person. I kind of had to be to survive those first few years on my own with the Kids. Generally that meant forfeiting any kind of treat for myself over what they needed or if I did buy myself something it had to be a once in a lifetime bargain that I just couldn’t pass up or forget about it. That’s a habit that’s very hard to break once it’s ingrained.

Things got better. After a few years my income increased and some of those debts I inherited in the divorce were paid down or off all together. Still I didn’t buy myself anything. I would be tempted and have long arguments with myself while looking at the ‘want’ and always talk myself out of it. My clothing lasted for YEARS, never mind how long I could stretch the life out of a pair of shoes.

Tom who is by no means a spend-thrift is trying to encourage me to treat myself now and again. We were out the other day and I was wanting to buy a new mascara. Not a drugstore one but a department store one. I’d had my eye on an Estee Lauder mascara and a lipstick shade that I just loved. I’ve been circling it like a piranha just waiting for the “GIFT WITH PURCHASE” time. Today, while out and about we stopped by the Bay and YESSSSSSSS it was “GIFT WITH PURCHASE” week! So I treated myself.

Now I’m all a-twitter with the ‘I’ve got new make-up’ glow. Sure the ‘tote’ bag that they are giving out is butt-hole ugly and I need more make-up brushes like I need another hold in my head, but I got another new lipstick, a different mascara to sample (in case I hate the new one I just bought but will use until it’s bone dry) TWO count them TWO eye pencils and two bottles of eye make-up remover (my mascara came with it’s very own gifts, how cool is that?!!!?!)

The primary reason for going out today was to locate another eyeglass store closer to home that carries the pair of Dolce and Gabbana glasses that I tried on in Langley and ‘hearted’ the other day. I found my prescription and I’m dying to give them another try before I take the plunge. The plan was to take the digital camera with me and take a photo of me wearing the frames.

I think I look like a total gorp in any and all glasses, it’s just the degree of gorpiness that’s the issue. If I decide that I can stand myself in public wearing them, then I will be able to drive in them. My current glasses, the frame is too narrow and rounded so the lens reflects cars on the side and makes them look like they are coming at me. Not the ideal situation for a driver and her peripheral vision. The frames I was looking at are wider and more square, they are also apparently either discontinued or really really popular. I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and go back out to Langley. Hopefully I won’t hate them once I see a picture of me wearing them and the trip will be for naught.

I really am jealous of people that can wear really trendy frames and look all cool and stylish. Me? I look like an idiot(me in trendy frames) or a librarian (me in traditional frames). So. Totally. Not. Fair!

I close with a shot of Nutmeg the perv. He likes to roll on his back and show off his ’special purpose’. I didn’t think the Internet needed to see it, so it’s been censored….Have a happy Monday!

My Mom has an innate ability to turn everything you say/do/don’t do into a heaping load of guilt or makes you feel like a total fuck-up. Don’t get me wrong I love her, she’s my Mom, but there are times when I just have to take a deep breath and tune her out or I will scream. I’m not sure if it’s a skill she was born with, but she’s sure honed it over the years.

Even if I say so myself I’ve been the good daughter, the one who is always ‘there’, the one everyone depends on to be level headed and responsible. It’s a burden sometimes. Sometimes it’s hard to bite my cheek and not say what I feel. Sometimes I fail and that ends up making me feel even more guilty. It’s a vicious circle.

I took her out for lunch today, a belated Mother’s Day lunch. This was so the Boys would be able to go with me as they like going out to eat. I have to admit they were also a wee bit of a buffer for me. The critique is spread around a bit more. When she would get started on one of them, they would look at me silently during one of these dialogues and I mouthed, “I’m sorry”. They shake them off easier than I do, they’ve heard my stories. Like Tom said, I’ve had years of it, everyone else can deflect it from time to time.

It’s confusing sometimes because she will tell me how she tells everyone what a wonderful daughter I am and then proceeds to pick me apart a few minutes later.

My Mom used to constantly tell me when I was a little girl she wished she could divorce my Dad, that she was miserably unhappy. She then told me that she stayed because of me. Yeah, guilt came early.

When I was younger, I used to think the arguments my parents constantly had were entirely my Dad’s fault being a cool and distant man. When I grew up I learned that they were both guilty, and truly at times I can sympathize with my Dad. He spent a lot of time in our bathroom reading. I truly think it was his oasis of peace.

Yay our favourite wine from the trip to the Okanagan last year
Originally uploaded by beezzez.

Earlier in the week we were fortunate enough to locate a store in Langley that stocked a small supply of one of our favourite wines from our wine tour vacation last year. It’s a small winery right now so they don’t produce enough to sell in the Gov’t controlled (communist!!) liquor stores. They depend on smaller specialty wine emporiums to do their distribution for them. It’s also possible to buy from their website and they pay half the shipping, but still it’s extra $$ that we’ve saved so woohoo!!

They had four bottles in stock and we snapped all of them up, the vendor promising to get more in (I think he liked us as we were bulk buyers) so at least we have a connection now.

Gonna be cracking one of these babies open tonight!!