Wow talk about being a slacker

Blogger slackers must be the worst kind of slackers.  No don't be nice we are.  We fill up the internet with blogs that were sometimes witty and even insightful, but what we become tired, lazy, we start comparing our blogs to other people and find ours not as witty or insightful as theirs.  Then we realize that no one really wants to read unless it is about Paris Hilton, they now want to spend their days watching people get hit in the balls with baseball bats by midget children on You Tube.  

So here I sit trying my damnest to come up with something to say.  What I say to you if you are still listening is ok I admit, it has been a year.  I slacked, massively and majorly.  I gave up on this blog, look at the dust that is gathered around the fonts.  It's disgusting.  

I have to get back to work, but i promise that I will not give up on this Blog, maybe it needs a new direction, maybe I need broaden my vision.  Maybe I need to start writing about Paris Hilton and her new show BFF.  

But I will write for no other person then myself.

So I lost my sense of humour, so sue me

I don't know what happened. One day I was the funniest, most clever woman on the planet then I turned 48 years old and it seemed to all go to shit. Ok I'm not saying that was the reason why I haven't been writing. I believe I started boring myself with what I wrote. Then the pressure of waiting to become a permanent resident started pressing down on my heart leaving me with an impending sense of doom. Well if I was any kind of writer I would be sharing those dark moments with you too, but I didn't want to discuss them. Then well my hair went to shit and we all know what happens when your hair turns against you.

The clincher was the Corner Gas show on writing blogs and how no one reads them. Fuckers. I then started looking at other people's blogs and realized that they had a point to their blogs whereas I really didn't. So I am going to change my perspective on my blog. Being that I just recently got my permanent residency (Thank you immigration and a special blessing goes out to Jared, Jocelyn's brother who has special powers in Ottawa and made one phone call and within a week I was getting my residency).

Man I feel all rusty, still don't think I got my mojo back when it comes to writing. This I hope improves with time.

Big things happening where I live though -
the Loonie is on parity with the American Dollar - which means I want magazines and books to cut that shit out about different pricing. People Magazine should never ever be over 4.oo.

Living in the Alpha-Ghetto, big stuff happening. What is the Alpha-Ghetto? It is the area on the west side of Saskatoon (also known as the hood) where the Avenues go by the alphabet. Therefore the name. Last night at about midnight 5 cop cars go racing down the street. What proceeded was either an extended gun fight that lasted a long time or the cops and neighbors were trading fire crackers with each other.

Turn on the news this morning and did they talk about it? Nope they talked about the guy whose truck was hit by a train because he was on the train track in traffic waiting for the light to change. Though he wouldn't talk to the reporter, other people stated that when he saw the train coming he jumped out of his truck to wave the train to stop. People, a train a 1/2 a mile long does not usually stop on a dime even if it could. I doubt that the engineer of the train purposely took out his truck because he was sick to death of assholes parking their vehicles on the train tracks.

Other news, looking for a job. I am officially done with being an illegal immigrant and painting fences, mowing lawns and stuff. I am appreciative of everyone who paid me under the table, but to tell you the truth with winter coming on, these jobs usually dry up pretty quickly. You try and paint a fence with a frozen paint brush.

So the grand news is, I get to go home to see my mother who I haven't been able to see for two years and I can take some time to come to grips that my father really is gone.

So no, I have to admit this wasn't the funniest post but maybe this will make you laugh.

While being interviewed by immigration, they immigration officer asked me how I liked Canada. I said I loved it, but that I was first confused when I was asked to play Shinny. I asked why would women get on the ice and do the shimmy (at this point I proceeded to shake my tits at him without thinking. I was trying explain what I meant). He stared at me for a moment and then smiled and said, well that could be an interesting thing to see.

Immediately after that I was approved.

For those of you who are confused by what I did, watch this video from the VonFoxies from Seattle and at probably 2:19 you will see what I did for Mr. Immigration.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilc6ff2mLqQ

I have the look

Oh you know what I'm talking about. The, standing on the front porch with your arms crossed staring at the 20 something young men who think it is totally cool to ride down our street on those dumb ass, little itty bitty motorcycles that sound like a mosquito hyped up on steroids. What? You don't have the look?

Well you can have it easily. It is more of an attitude. It goes something like this. Our neighborhood for the past 3 days has sounded a bit nosier then Baghdad during a Muslim holiday. Friday night we had a massively big, I mean big thunderstorm. One of those storms where everyone believes they are sinners and God is a coming for them by the 4 am.

Then Saturday was the pre party, letting off fire crackers for Canada Day. Which isn't as big a deal as the Fourth of July. Up here on Canada Day we eat, look fondly at our Maple Leaf and start counting the days until Hockey begins again, so we can get the damn Stanley Cup from those fucked up Ducks. We are blessed that we live on a street that I call the street of screams. Every weekend and I am sure all summer long we have young teenagers migrating down our street drunk off their ass laughing and saying things like, "No, fuck no, he really said that? That is like really fucked man. What a Fuck head." You might say, that sounds like you Claudia, well fuck no it doesn't cause I don't do it at 11pm or 12 am or 1am at night. Come 4am we have the same group migrating back to wherever. But now they are usually saying, Fuck you. No you fuck off. Where were you I waited for you all night, who were you with...

Yes we are blessed with a beginning and end of the evening. 3 nights of thunderstorms, fire crackers and drunks makes someone like me not too keen for the first night after the long weekend and now we have dip shits riding like they are something cool, when really they look like a bad acid trip to me when I watch them weeeeeeeeeeeee down the street.

That is why I had to do the stare. Now in my neighborhood, it isn't usually a good idea to give a stare at anyone. But I had too. So I went outside twice while they drove by just so they could see me. The third time as they drove by I stood on the porch, arms folded and gave them my death ray look. No blinking, no talking, no moving. The guy took one look at me and picked up his dorko toy and went home.

Yep I have the look.

Next post 3oth reunions and how out of control I am about it. I mean I even signed up and PAID for classmates.com. I need to be able to leave the country soon, I really do.

Since I don't want to Suck So Bad

I am writing again this month. April was bad and I can't say that writing twice in the month of May is a huge step away from being sucky it is more like being lazy.

There has been exciting things happening in my life. There really has, honestly. Like what? Well just last Friday they came to sweep the streets of our neighborhood, oh yeah I can see your blood rushing. The city sent out fliers informing us of this event, because it really is trust me. You see I stepped out my door and I heard the whooshing sound of the sweepers. SWEEPERS I screamed inside my head, which gave me a headache. I then dropped everything, ran and got a broom and started sweeping the sidewalks in front of my house. Why you ask did I become so frantic. I have no damn idea, all I know is on the flyer the city suggest moving your car off the street (the neighbor across the street didn't so his place is going to look really tacky.) The flyer also suggests that this might be a good time to sweep your driveway and the sidewalk. Well I do try and do what the Canadians do, so I trotted out with an old broom and started to furiously sweep the driveway and sidewalk that I never use like crazy. I feared for my sanity when I looked down the street and saw the only other person who was doing the same thing that I was, was an 8900 year old man who not only sweeps his sidewalk but street weekly. This was the point at which I came to the conclusion that I really need to get a job and those people that I will not name need to understand I really want to work. When a woman gets excited about street sweepers there are some serious emotional issues ahappening.

On a brighter note I have started up a website that you can check out on the side bar. I am designing dragons and other creatures out of clay and writing stories about them that you can buy if you are so inclined. I want you to the know that not only are the dragons and other creatures totally cool but the stories are exciting, funny and will keep your interest.

They are almost as exciting as street sweepers, yes they are.

I suck so damn Bad

I mean really, it has been a month and I haven't written anything. How fucking unblogger like is that. Am I saying that my life is so full of meaning that I don't have time to write? Or that I have a job and am so busy working with Al Gore (we are so tight I just call him "A" for short), no that isn't true either.

So since I don't have a job, cause I am still waiting for those lovely immigration chaps to open up the envelope I sent on March 1st and pull out the paper work and throw it on the floor and stomp on it. Oh sorry I was told in no uncertain terms not to say anything rude or disrespectful...

Please excuse the brief intermission while I wrote then deleted things I would really like to say but can't.

So I have tons of free time, no job, American Idol is down to the final four and Amazing Race is over, so why Claudia, why have I been so fucking lame?

Hey want to see a picture of me when I was doing Burlesque?

This is what they call in the "business", not sure what business as a distraction. Like pointing up in the sky and saying look look global warming while stealing some-one's SUV.

But here is my lame excuse.

Fucking Hockey Playoffs. Now I don't watch Hockey, don't particularly like the game, I mean if you took all the teams added up all the scores they wouldn't add up to one Football game, which means they should either give more points to each goal or that football is a sissy sport. Yeah well so for some reason the playoffs come every year, you pick players with the most teeth and brain cells and then you get up every morning and go to bed every night to see how these brain injured creatures did. Cause nothing pisses me off then picking someone I have no idea about and then they have the gall to not only not make points but the entire team loses and so now we are stuck with about 6 players while everyone else has a zillion. They take our 25 bucks - the hockey shark friend of ours, say it's for a good cause and then here they sit in the top 3 spaces.

Totally I mean totally how sucky is that?

And what is worse is that I have now watched a couple games and even know what hooking means, well I always knew what it meant but it means something completely different when you are on the ice with a stick.

So that is my feeble excuse

Oh yeah and I am starting a website and internet business, but I will give you more information as I get this puppy off and running.

Later

Fuck You Bank of America - warning there are ALOT OF SWEAR WORDS IN THIS POST

You would think I am living in Uzbekistan or some small country under a dictatorship with two long distance phone lines for the entire population to use.

All I want to fucking do is talk to a HUMAN FUCKING BEING. But I use their fucked up 1 800.900.9000 stupid fucking number and by the fucking way just because a number is easy to fucking remember doesn't mean it does you any fucking good if you CAN'T GET THROUGH. Because the motherfucking dog shit eating, fucktards, loser DNA pieces of shit have a phone system AND an email system that will not let me get through. I mean I go though the pushing numbers and feeling like an ass when the fuckhead guy's voices keeps asking if he needs to repeat the choices like I can't remember 4 fucking options. Then when the condescending piece of mutant mass of arrogance voice discovers that somehow in the move I don't have my account number for my loan he says with a sigh (I just know he does) wait while we put you through to an associate who can direct your call to a person who talks really really slow for assholes like me. So ok I will be a really really slow stupid asshole if they want me to as long as I can talk to someone, but wait then they say we have picked YOU to do a survey after talking to the associate. Hell by now I will pay you pin dick bug fuckers to do the survey if I COULD TALK TO YOU. So I wait, they transfer me and damn if I am not cut off 3 fucking times.

So then I use the email. First I put in my old address in Washington with my phone number up here. No that's a no go. Then I try to use my address up here because well the fucking email system lets you put in different countries, but you can only pick from the 50 fucking states, so that kicks back to you.

Then I put in my parents address and phone number and they think I am full of shit and am lying because they say that is incorrect information. My parents have had the phone number and address for 50 fucking years, how can it be incorrect you assfucks.

So then I think Ah ha, I will call the other number for banking. Get the call center, get a human, she says she will stay with me on the line until I get someone. We get someone, but wait, they can't help me so where do they transfer us (now also by the way, no offense to people from the south but just because you have a lovely voice and sound really kind it doesn't mean you are going to calm my raging brain) to the same fucking system that I just got booted off of 3 times. So the woman who is trying to help me, gets me to the point of talking to an associate but now I am on hold and of course my phone is now starting to snap, crackle and pop more then a fresh bowl of Rice Krispies and she says well do you think you can handle it from here? I say yes and she hangs up and I GET FUCKING DISCONNECTED.

So at the moment I am feeling a bit perturbed.

Rue Chaton (Street Kitty)

If you live in Canada you must learn some french, cause it makes you sound way fucking smart.

I'm tired and stressed right now. Last Tuesday I took the garbage out to the Alley behind our house and we have these really big garbage cans. I could see 3 cans down the alley and as I drug my bag of garbage to my can, out of a all the cans popped a cat. They all scampered off except for the one in our garbage can. I love animals. I hate when people treat innocent creatures so cruelly. The combo makes me a soft touch. As well as Barb.



Here is the our rescued kitty the day after we rescued him, he looks much cleaner then he was and he was and is still skin and bones.

There is a massively cool organization called SCAT (Street Cats) made up of massively cool people. I called, they came over the next day to check the little guy out. I had to call and place ads in case anyone lost them. Which they didn't fucker, people have to leave apartments at the end of the month and dump cats all the time. Like to shove a box of clumping kitty litter up their asses.

So this organization paid to have him go to the vet and pay for tests and shots. He doesn't have any of the FVI or the other bad stuff. But he has a really hard time breathing. This makes me very nervous. I sit and stare and pray that he will feel better. The vet said he might have been kicked and injured but won't take x-rays for another 10 days. So we feed the little guy and fall in love and worry and fret. We didn't want another cat, but sometimes it isn't up to us you know?

What I worry about is I have no power over him healing. All I can do is love him and give it up to my higher power to take care of. But what is such a drag is I realize I don't trust that my higher power will fix him. And maybe I want a miracle and maybe that isn't what this is all about. Maybe it is just about loving the animal one day at a time and not worrying about the future. I don't know, all I do know that it isn't up to me but I want it to be.

That really is hard on my heart, I don't need more death. I want to do right by another. I really do.

Tomorrow I will give you a new picture and maybe he will look better to you.