Yep this is how I feel today

This is my salute to the mini blizzard we had in the middle of March up here. Three days before we had plus temps, melting snow, singing birds, the sun warm on my back, dog turds that had been left since October showing themselves. Yes I felt that spring was on the way. Then this shit.

It put me in a bit of a tailspin so to speak. Oh and the phone call from my mother. Love my mother really do, she misses me, I her. But even from the coast she is able to throw her umbilical cord at me with a lasso on it and pull me in. Fuck I hate that. My mother wants to know how my writing is going. I say some days better then others. She says, well you will have lots of time since it takes about 7 years in the States to become a citizen. I tell her it doesn't take that long up here and anyway I am just trying to become a landed immigrant. She says well you should do more writing why not write a story about some of the wonderful hiking experiences you had with your father. I said well I might mix up some the places we went hiking because when you start hiking when you are 3 years old, your ability to discern the difference from one hellish hike isn't easy. You are told to pack for a week, so you pack your backpack (don't forget your sleeping bag like I did one time, I never want to be that close to my mother again thank you). You are tossed into the volkswagen Micro-bus that goes 55 down hill with a tail wind. Can't open any windows so as soon as we hit the dusty dirt roads I was usually on the floor of the bus, trying not to puke along with with Sheltie Calin who was always able to puke 5 minutes before we reached our destination.

I tried to explain this to mother and she said, well there you go being negative before you even start. Also she continues on, it is too bad that none of the children (ours or our family friends) hike anymore. She said that is just sad. I said, well I love to river raft. She said that isn't the same thing. Duh, no it isn't. Think about (I didn't say this) we spent every summer from the time we were 5 let's say and there are 4 of us kids. Every summer was spent backpacking. Backpacking means you carry everything on your back. Sure great exercise. Beautiful mountains, great adventures. But it is the part of "carrying everything on your back". See maybe, just maybe it got old for us. So if I decide to raft down a fucking river and let nature do work, well what the fuck, I'm still out there aren't I? Hell Fucking Yes.

So NO my mother does not push any of my buttons, not at all. She does say things like, "I hope to see you some day" (what is implied is before she dies). I said, well as soon as the paper work comes through I will come out there, she says, well you can't afford it, I said yes I can. So we disagree on this, at this point I have taken one of the swords I own out and am checking to see if it is sharp enough to stab myself without too much pain.

I get off the phone feeling oh so chipper. Watching the fucking spring blizzard and wondering to myself, hell I don't even know what I wondered to myself other then eating a 1/2 bag of Easter M&M's doesn't make you feel anymore Christ like just because the colours of the candies are in a pastel colour.

Bette Davis Eyes to Andy Ronney Eyebrows

It creeped up on me, maybe I'm not as observant as I used to be, could be that I have reached a higher level of awareness and no longer care for these matters but I doubt it. Though I do meditate every morning, yesterday's meditation was on patience, I did it for about 1 minute. The attention span of a pollywog of late.



Back in the 80's where shoulder pads were king, Dynasty was the best trash we available to us and Cocaine was still considered psychologically addictive not physically addictive, I was living the life of a restless youth. My sister always stated that when her generation took drugs (she is 5 years older then me) it was for a reason, to reach a higher level of awareness, for us it was to just get high. I can't disagree with her on that point, but I must point out that I did on at least two different occasions go out on in field on Acid and try to get in become one with God. Unfortunately it took me over 2 hours to get over a fence, well in fact it took about an hour to find the fence then an hour to climb over it. See when I was on Acid I was spacially fucked. So I kept climbing over the fence only to realize that the fence was about 200 feet in front of me.



What does this have to do with the title of the post? As the old proverb says; a watched pot never boils and I might add neither does a 4 foot snow drift ever melt. See it is spring time here up north. This means when it snows it is a lighter, more liquid kind of snow. You know cabin fever has set in when I am running round about ready to pee my pants because I have found dog shit that was shat before the first big snow. That my friends is a sign that we only have a month of waiting for this brown mucky shit called snow melt to disappear and then watch as the grass struggles to recover from having it's head shoved between its roots for the past 6 months.



I am coming to terms with aging. Not in the usual sense, sure I realize that I will never look as sexy clean shaven as Britney Spears or as brain dead and insipid (that is my favourite word) as Paris Hilton. But is it really fair that while my hair is losing it's bouncy youthful appearance that my eye brows have to start curling up in an alarming manner?



Becoming older is when you try and use spit to control unruly eye brows and find that they now are reaching for the sky. Mouse has no affect and neither would a moose. I pluck then realize what will I do if one morning I wake up and all my eye brow hairs have decided to turn into dreadlocks? What then? Do I pluck them all out and then have to paint on my eye brows every morning so I have that constantly surprised look for the next 3o years, or do I give up and let nature take it's course.


I do say I am grateful that I didn't live in the 1800's. This is what was suggested for hair removal back then:

There were many alternative methods of hair removal, ranging from pulverized egg shells to a mixture of cat's dung and vinegar. In the early 18th century (1700-1737) Lemery's Curiosa Arcana, published in 1711, gives a recipe for the complexion: To remove hair, one was instructed to 'Take the shells of 52 eggs, beat them small and distill them with a good fire.' Then, with the water, 'Anoint yourself where you would have the Hair off.' For ladies with more cats than chickens, Lemery recommended beating 'hard, dry Cats-dung...to a powder' and tempering it with strong vinegar for the same effect. Other homemade depilatories contained quick-lime.



So if anyone who reads this is too young to remember the song Bette Davis Eyes - well I would like to feel some sympathy, but that means you are way young and I might tend to snarl at you. Don't worry though I think the snarling comes with the bushy eyebrow thing.

F is for Farmer

So you are thinking to yourself, what does this crazed chick now think we are so dense that we need to be taught the alphabet? Come on people that is silly, other then you all not knowing how to say the letter "Z" correctly I know you know the alphabet.

No today's discussion is on driving in Saskatchewan on a weekend. Yesterday we were driving to a mall that had a Walmart in it. This is not unusual since every mall in either Regina or Saskatoon has a Walmart, the ones that don't have a Walmart are of no worth and people usually drive by these malls with utter contempt and spit on them while driving by. Or maybe they have too much chew in their mouths and their wife is tired of cleaning that slimy shit out travel mugs.

As I was saying we were driving to a mall on a Saturday and we were on Circle Drive. Suddenly out of no where Barb puts her hand on the dashboard to brace herself and says in a very tense tone, "watch out that mini van has an "F" on it. Being used to her bracing herself while I was driving I wasn't too concerned but I am still learning the vernacular of the language up here and I just couldn't figure out what in the hell was she talking about.

I looked around feeling somewhat frantic that I missed something and she said "F means Farmer up here" My brain beginning to hurt said but thinking this is some driving game said, "G is for Gnome?" "No she said, the F on his license plate means they are from the farm". I wanted argue that what was wrong with G for Gnome instead deciding this was neither the time nor the place to argue my point.

Then watching the road again I saw what she meant. Here traveling down the middle of the road, slamming on their brakes suddenly, turning quickly in front of another car to get in the correct lane (ok part of that I did but I refuse to tell you which part ) was a blue mini van full of a family of farmers trying to get to their destination of the weekend, a day at Walmart.

Now why would the province label these hard working people with a scarlet F so to speak for the world to see. I thought it seemed demeaning to them. Like watch out here comes those "F"ing Farmers. But there a method to their madness. I think that these salt of the earth people who are forced to drive mini vans get a discount on their insurance or something for being a farmer. In Alberta I know the driving age for a farm kid is something like 14, but I dislike discussing Alberta so I am sorry I even brought it up.

Now watching the driver of the van I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. They weren't driving their vehicle like it was a combine and taking up the entire highway. That I'm afraid was me, because damned if in the winter time I can figure out some times which is a lane and which is me driving like a total idiot.

I had hoped that this post was going to go somewhere quite witty. I fear it isn't because once I looked deep inside my driving patterns up here, I would have to admit that I need a designation of "F" on my license plate that would stand for Watch the fuck out it's a fucking foreigner.

Are Pig Spleens in your future?

Through out the ages various cultures have used different means in which to predict the future. The Chinese still use the reading of tea leaves to tell one's future, many people rely on Astrology to plan their day and some go so far as to pick a mate who is compatible to their sign. I being a Leo don't care much as long as I am the center of attention. We up here in Saskatoon have a unique and special way of telling our future. Well I wouldn't say that everyone is into this but I was told there is one man who has a special talent of predicting the future. We will call him the Spleen Man, since I don't know his name. From what I was told this man takes spleens from pigs and has been able to successfully predict that we who live in the prairies of the north with nothing between us and the North Pole were going to have storms in January, February and March.



I know pretty overwhelming to think that there is someone out there that has the talent to look at this organ and tell us that we would have storms that involved snow and wind. Wow is all I can say. Where does this man find these spleens? That is the great mystery. I have checked out the meat markets and you don't find them for sale. He might work at one of the processing plants in the area. Or he just maybe he raises one pig a year, butchers it just so that he can provide us with knowledge that can help us prepare for a storm this far north. Hell if I would be able to say with any conviction to people that hey you guys look at this frigging spleen; Can't you see from the grey spots and red spots and black spots that we are going to have snow and yes wind and hold on to your seats, it might even get really cold up here.

It is a god given talent is all I can say. What I am grateful for is that I don't have to drink spleen tea to find out what to look forward to in my future.

And that my friends is the latest news from Saskatoon.

Gym Etiquette

For those of you who go to the gym I am providing this information to you so you don't make the same mistakes as I have in the past. Or so that you don't piss me off when I am at the gym.

By following these simple instructions you too will be well liked and even admired by everyone.

So you are riding one of the exercise bikes, been on it for 30 minutes or so and your time is up. What do you do:

1. Leave and lift weights
2. Get the disinfectant and wipe off the handle bars then the seat
3. Get the disinfectant and wipe off the seat where you had your stinky ass and then the handle bars with the paper towel.
   

The answer is number 2. We all sweat people and to just get up and think that someone is going to follow behind you and wipe up after you is tacky. And number 3? I suggest that if you have unresolved passive aggressive behaviours that you should talk to your therapist. This behaviour could be caused because of the lady who taps you on the shoulder and says, "excuse me but I signed up for this bike on the board and you are on it." So you are embarrassed, have to get off and feel really stupid and maybe think she is an anal retentive shit since there are 4 other bikes that aren't quite as new as the one you are on that she could ride on. She then has the nerve to ride it for only 10 minutes.

When finding a locker in an empty locker room.

1. Find one that is at least 4 lockers down from the nearest locker being used
2. Choose the one right next to the only locker being used.

If you picked number 2 you are also the person that I have met several times that will walk into an empty theater with only me and one other person and sit your lazy ass right in front of me and then check your cell phone for any highly important text messages. I forgive you since I believe your brain has been fried by the cell phone you have stuck to your ear up to 18 hours a day.

When changing your clothes in the locker room with another person in there

1. Strike up a conversation to make it all feel more relaxed
2. Pretend the other person doesn't exist, change into your clothes and leave.

If you picked number 2, you might be anti social but you also might enjoy talking to people better in a bar or at home when they are fully dressed.

If you picked number 1, you most likely are uncomfortable with silence. Then sing a song. While I am trying to pull up my pants over legs that are a bit damp and fighting a battle to the death, the last thing I need is someone asking me what book am I reading. You either belong to a nudist colony and enjoy frolicking in the nude while playing volley ball or you enjoy making other people suffer.

I am not anti social and after I have my unmentionables covered up, bring on the conversation. Let's discuss politics, the weather or what book I am reading. But please not when I have my ass to the wall and am trying to pretend I am invisible.

Da Blizzard of 2007

For those of you who weren't here for the worst blizzard in 50 years here is some-one's video of it. Makes you cold just watching it.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DugSbG2i8NQ

I have been waiting almost two years for one, it happened and it was the most terrifying day of my life. Actually it wasn't. I stayed home and watched it from inside, but I believe I was the only person outside who was taking pictures of it to show everyone.I have no good story about it. Absolutely nothing thrilling happened. I didn't get caught in Costco because I couldn't get home (probably a good reason why I hadn't renewed my Costco membership yet, most likely it saved my life).

So here is me so you can see me in the blizzard. I am the one with the frozen glasses
This doesn't give you the true scope of what a blizzard is all about, but it does show you that I know how to dress for winter up here. Kinda like a burka for the north.

Though it might be hard to tell, but see all that white stuff on the ground and how white and blurry it is in the sky? That my friends is called shitloads of snow. And it is everywhere. So this was the morning of the blizzard.

Now this is the front of our house. You see a cyclone fence in the front yard. This fence is 3 feet high. At the far corner you see that the snow has reached the top. This ladies and gentleman is where all the "blowing" snow landed.

In our front yard. Looking out the window it looked pretty enough. Realizing we wouldn't get any mail unless I shoveled the walkway left me with some resentment. I would show you pictures of the shoveled walkway but the morning I went outside in my moccasins I soon found that traction is not why people where them. After picking myself up off the ground finding that fine patch of ice and digging for the camera in the snow. I found myself with a bruised ass and a broken camera and a small lecture on going outside in the winter in moccasins.

I never asked him was he proud of me?

My Dad: Harvey Manning, climber, writer, environmentalist and father.

A little over two months since my father passed away, seems like forever then again I can't believe it has even happened. It is all true what others have said and gone through before me. There are all those first, you have to make it through. Even when you make through those there are time when I think, oh he would like that book or he would find this interesting. And he would, even though he is gone, his spirit still is within me and he is still my dad and I still miss him. He didn't talk a lot, hated the phone, would only pick it up if no one else was around and that was to stop the ringing. We never talked about deep things. We talked about the birds we had seen, how the animals were doing, good shows on TV. Before I left to move up here on his 80th birthday it was mother, him and I and we actually sat out on the deck and talked. About their trips, our trips, about how we were both drunks but didn't drink anymore. It was the last time I saw him and the best conversation I had had with him in years.

Was he proud of me? I am sure he was, I wish I had finished this novel and was able to send it too him for him to read. I did give him one chapter to read and his praise of it was a lasting gift to me. Did I do anything tremendous for him to be proud. I visited him. I talked to him. I forgave him and asked him for forgiveness. So did I accomplish anything while he was alive to make him proud. I suppose, because I loved him and he me.

Anyway if you have someone's loves that is always enough, don't you think?



Here are a couple of pictures when he and my mother were climbing in the Canadian Rockies. What amazing parents I have.

Here they are in a hut above Lake Louise in 1950. They were freezing because there was no wood or heat.

Here he is on top of some peak, man I know so little about his climbing days

Why they don't play Shinny in the States

Pretty obvious if you don't have nationalist health care, you wouldn't dare put your ass on the ice in boots a tennis ball and a hockey stick. Ya just don't. That is why the sport isn't big in the states. Well that and the states are a bit warmer then most of Canada. Remember we are the country that has Polar Bears going down the main streets of some towns.

Shinny last week I was called a cherry picker. This week I wish they would have called an ambulance. This sport is not a sport for the weak of heart but if you watch you might think we are all weak of brain.

So there we are with a few more added players then last week - 3, but one was a lawyer do I need to say more? With the added players the game picked up it's pace. Well not its pace but its injury factor. It started off pretty basic, a slip and fall and a slam down on their knees in the ice. This happened several times, sometimes with others involved other times more of a oh shit I'm on ice and bam, down they go. Like all good Canadian born and bred women, they would get up, brush themselves off and we would ask, are you ok and the response was, oh yeah, I'm fine. Then came the brain concussion. The individual got up we were concerned and asked, you ok and of course she replied, oh yeah fine I'm. She then shook her head twice and decided to play goalie for a bit. There was of course the attack of the killer attorney who took out one of our players. The attorney couldn't feel her fingers, but she hell she still had her other hand, so let's keep playing. I not having any health insurance had a sense that I was in a bizarre version of Monty Python and the Holy Grail done on ice (sort of like the IceCapades but with hockey sticks) Every time someone slammed down on the ice they got back up with the same fucking response. I was expecting at some point they were going to say, oh it's nothing but a flesh wound.

I could see this insanity was going to go on because these were strong like bull Canadian Women with National Health Insurance. I knew that death was the only thing that would stop this game if not that then a woman with no insurance.

So being the fabulous player I was moving gingerly down toward the opposing teams goal, waiting for my chance to mostly stay standing on the ice when it happened. The world turned, the feet moved quite wrong quite suddenly and without as much as a howdy doo gravity took over and I landed right on my tail bone. I rolled over on my stomach, did not shed a tear but with absolutely no grace or class said to one and all. I'm done. And hobbled away to lick my wounds I say this figuratively cause if you think after a fall like that or even if I hadn't fallen like that that I could reach around and lick my own back you must be crazy.

I sit here gingerly today telling you this story for your own good. If someone suggests a fun game of shinny, wait for a blizzard and walk off into the prairie, it won't hurt as much.

Well fuck

I so hate those New Year Resolutions. They are way, like way fucking stupid. I should of made a new year resolution not recognize New Years since it is part of the fascist society that we are part of (except in Saskatchewan) where we are forced to at least acknowledge these holidays probably created by white rich men who belong to the Masons or some such cult.

So promised to write in my blog every few days - fucking blew that off after what 10 days. That is pitiful.

I have been working on my novel - but if I put it on the web then those rich white men who are part of cults will steal my creative genius and use it to control the masses, so fuck that shit if anyone is going to control the masses, I want to do it.

I was going to cut down on swearing - oh fuck I never promised anything of the motherfucking sort. OK least I have some of my integrity still standing.

Diet. Cock sucking evil word created by once again the cult Male Chauvinist Society that wants to keep women down by keeping them thin, writing a zillion books on how to lose weight, thereby keeping them obsessed by food and their bodies because if they weren't obsessing about food and their bodies, they would see what a fucked up job the evil Male empire was doing and would gain a bit of weight and kick some major fucking ass. Are you with me ladies?

Yeah well so OK, we bought Potato Chips because some friends were coming over on Tuesday. They didn't eat it. Potato Chips are like Cocaine to me. I waited (remember that was Tuesday this is now FRIDAY) and kept eating my nuts, buying good stuff from the Health food store and then it happened. Those greasy little shits started Calling my name. Clauuuuuudia, oh Clauidiaaaaaaaa (fuckers can't spell either) crunch, crunch, oh how yummy. Well you realize if I ate a few then Barb would find out and I would be busted. If I ate the entire bag then I would feel like puke, but since I am not a bulimic I would just feel like it not do it. So then... I would have to buy another bag and never admit to the massive munching of the first bag. And that my friends is like drinking and then not saying anything and going around pretending I'm sober.

So ain't fucking going to do it.

I ate the potato chip, but I did not kill the deputy. (for those of you who are too young it is from an old song probably written and sung by the white male fascist cultist society).

I also refuse to feel bad about it. I worked out today. I did dishes and wrote in my book. And I let you all know the truth.

Cherry Picking is not a term of endearment

In Shinny that is. That is the game where you stupidly and intentionally go on an ice rink in tennis shoes and hockey sticks and run around trying to hit a tennis ball. After about 10 minutes of going back and forth I figured, hell by the time I got to the other end of the rink the ball will be coming back my way so I stayed near the opposing teams goal. Barb kept calling me a cherry picker, I thought it was a compliment for some frigging reason, but no it is when you stand there and wait for someone to hit you the ball and you get a goal. I was in no way a cherry picker, I was happy if I kept upright which I didn't- fell 4 times. I also was told you can't run into the people who have the ball while screaming this I believe is called checking. For some reason they don't approve of you sticking your stick out and tripping the other players feet who have the ball especially if they are your spouse - this is called hooking and is frowned upon greatly. Oh yeah and if you hit someone elses stick as you go by and it accidently goes into their ribs rather sharply it is called spearing and for some fucking reason is considered in bad taste, once again especially if you do it to your spouse. I told them that since I was from America and since I was ignorant of their culture but wanted what they had (the ball most of the time) it was perfectly alright for me to bully, attack and abuse the opposing players

One down

Well thank you to everyone who knows how to use the refresh button, because I have now hit the grand and glorious over the 5,000 mark and I swear I had little to do with it. As they say in the Internet world I haven't gone viral yet and I doubt that I will, but hitting the 5,000 mark is rather exciting.

I need to read over my resolutions for the new year to see how I am doing. Working on my memory would have been a good one. But I am finished with my paper work and will be sending it in to Immigration this week. Then it will sit there, gather dust and from what I have heard, if you call them to find out what is up with your status, these people and I can just imagine this, they are all wrinkled and about a billion years old, with 33 inches of dust on every surface including their head. And if you do call them and bug them, they will take your file and put it at the bottom of these files that are stacked from floor to ceiling. That is what I picture.

Both sets of fingerprints came back with no arrests on them and that was a big relief to me because the 80's were a pretty big blur to me for all I know I had a child and didn't know about it.

As to my other resolutions. I am reading this book calledYou on a Diet which is a great book and gives information on how a body works and what foods to eat, so I am eating lots of omega 3 foods and feeling quite proud of myself. This is only week one so we will see. One thing I suggest if you are going to do this diet - as a snack you can eat some dry whole grain cereal with dried fruit as a snack. DO NOT eat uncooked steel cut oatmeal. Not only is it very dry in your mouth, think of eating sawdust, but with less flavour, but see it expands like a lot. Like that is a lot of fiber to have in one's stomach in an evening. I remember seeing this movie from the 70's called the Immigrants with Liv Ulmann. The story was about these poor Swedish people who were coming to America because they were starving. Make a long blog short, the little girl, hungrier then all get out got into the storage shed and ate raw oats, they expanded and her stomach exploded and she died.

This of course didn't happen to me or else I would be doing this blog from the other side and well then it would be a blog that would be read a lot I'm sure.

But just don't do it. Makes for an uncomfortable Swedish depressing movie kind of evening.

New Years Resolutions

Well there went one down the shit hole. Trying to get 5,000 hits by New Years Day without me logging on like a pitiful bloggerert who is so desperately in need of attention that I would try to up the number of hits on my blog. Anyway I realized after watching 20/20 on Friday night and seeing where one woman got 300,000 hits a month on her blog that I was doomed to be a baby blogger in the big scheme of blogland. I could do what she did which is share every personal detail of my life on the blog like she did, but if I did that, my therapist could once a week log on read what I wrote and then send me an email without ever seeing me. So unless I plan on doing live sex scenes on my blog I shall have to strive for quality then going for the utter exploited quantity of titillating trash about my life.

So I know New Years Resolutions are so lame and most people have that loser statement is " my new years resolution is to not make any new years resolution". I can say that because I have said that in the past. What I believe today and it could change is since I am not working, if I don't make some goals to achieve this year I will end up in a quagmire of mucky nothingness and by not forcing myself into a routine depression and despair are waiting in the wings to sweep me away to Dr. Phil Land. So here are my goals.

1. Write in the blog at least once a week.
2. I am writing a novel and my goal is to write a chapter a week - plus put it on the web, so if you are at all interested you can read it and if you find it at all interesting or have comment you can help me shape the storyline. This I will have done by the end of next week.
3. Ok, I know this is lame, but this past year I have been under a bit of stress - new country, no job, getting married, moving to a new city and the big one have both parents sick and my father dying. Due to this and not having structure or goals I have gained weight and feel just like shit about myself. So of course I went out and bought the book called YOU ON A DIET. Which explains how your body works and why diets suck, fail and why we all become raving, snarling bitches with the personality of Nicole Richie. I just want to eat better, work on my emotional eating and exercise because I like to do it not because if I don't I will beat myself up about it. Plus the dogs really need to see the outside world occasionally.
4. Big one - get landed immigrant status
5. Get me a frigging job.

So those are my commitments to myself for this year. None of that quit smoking since I already have, no commitments to quit drinking or not drink so much that I sleep with my best friends lab - since I already have - quit drinking that is, not sleeping with other people's pets, shit dude I gave that up like in 1999 or I think after that incident with my neighbors chow that was unfortunately picked up by the Humane Society Newspaper. See you can be an animal lover, just not a fucking animal lover.

Anyway those are my goals. And congratulations to myself and anyone who reads this cause, like I have been doing this for one year now. I would seriously like to thank my Netherlands friend Anja who clued me into blogging. She is one smart Netherlands type chick.

One Goal

I want to have 5,000 hits on my Blog by New Years Days. So I don't give a shit if you read my blog but if you really, really love me you will help me achieve this milestone.

And if you don't and I have to do by myself, well you all can just bugger off.

And I mean that in the most loving way, especially if you are a gay man.

Merry Happy Holiday, Christmas, Quanza, Chanukah, Pagan Day, Solstice

Well here you and I are, the dead zone between the gathering and giving of gifts and entrance of the New Year where amateur drinkers drink heavily and puke loudly. They spend excessive money to wear funny hats, blow silly horns that end up full of drool so when midnight comes along they go splattt instead of wheeeeee. Both sounds are equally irritating, but the splattt one is worse when you get a faceful of someones spit while they try without success to make a sound that is similar to a cow farting.

I being a recovering alcoholic find the new year pretty boring. I can go to a party and watch others make an ass of themselves. I being who I am can do this without the use of alcohol which is quite a talent. What is more pitiful is staying at home and hanging with Dick Clark who after having a stroke sounds like he has been drinking and bring the new year in with him. What will most likely happen is I will go to bed before midnight and wake up and go huh, it's 2007, right on.

This is also the time when we all prepare to make new years resolutions that will be forgotten once we find out that taking Carb blocker pills don't really work and you in fact have to exercise and lay off loaves of bread at lunch. There are those who decide to quit smoking or drinking and in fact they do quit both these things on New Years Days as they sleep off the night before. I am going to come up with 5 resolutions that I plan on putting on my Blog and with these 5 resolutions I will weekly keep you up to date on my progress. I might put up pictures or direct you to another blog where I am working on a project, but you will have to trust me that I will be honest with you as I work on these 5 resolutions. (This is one of those keep you coming back kind of things)

Other then that my session with Myrtle went well. If you think that crying for two hours over things that happened to you when you were a small child is a success. It didn't involve hot pokers to the eye, thank God. What I did is I was given two small pads that are charged with electricity. So they don't zap but buzz your hands, sort of like vibrators for midgets. I go back to a memory, the things buzz in my hands, I cry (not from the buzzers) and then recount the memory, we discuss, go back to the memory and look at it from a different point of view and so and so forth. Taking the energy out the memory I suppose. I didn't leave there with any wows or new realizations since I have been doing this therapy for about forever though I did back into their fence since I was rather spaced out. I think going though these memories gets kind of old after awhile. Everyone has had shit in their lives, some when they where children, some when they were adults. At some point it is about moving on, letting go and becoming responsible for the life I have today. My grief over daddy dying will take a long time to heal, but my life can't come to a screeching halt because of it.

That is why I am so excited about the Christmas Present I got from Barb - it's a 4 month course in beginning acting with a performance at the end of the course in May. That is like a dream come true, it gives me hope and directs my energy to something I love. I can use my humour, doing stand up and my weirdness in a positive and great way.

So yes today I have hope for my future. Now if only I could get rid of my frigging cold that I have had since last Saturday I would be so very happy.

Next Post - my New Years Resolutions and the do's and don'ts of creating your own list.

Today is the Day

Well since I know you all are sitting waiting ever so patiently to find out what happened with Myrtle and I, which sounds like an awfully good title for a book, but something dramatic would have to be happening and it's just therapy, but you say yeah, therapy, you talk, ya cry, ya laugh and you leave. Well not this therapy nope. First of all I was referred by an EAP (employee assistance program) and they only provide you will like enough visits to get you through a crisis. So when I say Myrtle and unfortunately her last name isn't Muggles, but for you and I it will always be Muggles am I right? Can I have a hallelujah? Thank you. When I went for my first visit she said, usually they only allow one visit for a diagnosis but for you Claudia they are giving you the entire 7 visits! Can I have a praise Jesus from the crowd? Thank you. So it always helps to be over the top losing it to get the full value of your buck.

Today I have a two hour session. Why two hours? Cause we are doing this process called EMDR or also called Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. Big words, but what the hell is it? Well from what I gather and I am sure this is all ass backwards, your brain carries memories, good bad and ugly. When you have had a bit of trauma in your life your brain passages get all screwed up and hold onto that energy and you keep going back to it and reliving it so with this process when you go back to a painful memory your eyes start twitching and like you are in a horror movie and then the therapist does something and you do something and then somehow the energy is released or your brain finds a new path to travel instead of going back to that shit and you get all better. Much like an enema for the brain.

Now in the past they tried different methods connected to the eyes and memories. Long time ago the therapists or sadists would stick a hot poker close to your eye and say, you think you felt like shit then, well that ain't nothing like you are going to feel now with this thing in your eye. This did work somewhat, it was true that you immediately forgot anything traumatic in your past and did focus on just today and this moment. But they found that after both eyes were poked out, that the patient rarely came back for more visits and anyway, anyone foolish enough to come back after their first eye was poked out with a red hot poker had bigger problems then just an eye poking could fix.

From there came using ice picks for lobotomies that also went through the eye but didn't blind the person but also left them with the eye cue of George W Bush, they gave up on that and now today we have this EMDR thingy.

So in less then 1/2 hour I will have a brain clean thing happening. I hope that I don't leave acting like a Stepford/Saskatoon Wife and wear dresses with pearls when I vacuum.

Myrtle Muggle

Having been a bit stressed out of late I found that spending all day long playing computer games and watching Dr. Phil I realized that even as bad off as I am, I am not fucked up enough to get on his show. Dr. Phil is the Jerry Springer of the middle class social scene. When I do go out it is to take Barb and Chasidy to work, pick them up and if lucky I go to the butcher where I see all those slabs of meat and think to myself, well at least they aren't alone. Well you tell me, could it get any worse then that to think that a piece of dead meat has more company then me? I agree totally with your conclusion is that the stress and changes I have made in my life have caught up with me and I am in need of a bit of professional care. So I call the EAP (Employee Assistance Program) where Barb works. They are always very kind with that very soft , let's get off the ledge kind of voice and they ask a few questions. Well because my father died, I can't work, I don't have any close friends, I feel isolated and I hate shoveling snow. This last one was what made the young woman realize I needed immediate assistance. So she asked what do you want from a therapist and I said, someone who isn't homophobic and will throw stone at me in a small office and someone with a sense of humour.

I get a call back from the clinic with the name of my temporary therapist. And what is her name? Get a clue I put it in the subject line - Myrtle Muggle. Now for anyone who has never seen a Harry Potter Movie then you might as well quit reading here because you probably won't get the humour in this.

I asked for someone with a sense of humour, not someone who is not only a Muggle - I mean I really need some magic here not your basic Muggle. But I get a Myrtle Muggle and as everyone knows (except for those of you who haven't watched the movie and I asked you politely the first time to quit reading kay?) Moaning Myrtle was the young woman who hung out in the woman's bathroom in the school and caused all sorts of mischief.

I am not one to judge someone before I meet them, but I mean what should I expect. Someone with a tight perm, sensible shoes and glasses.

I mean it is all rather funny to think that off all the people I could have as a therapist I get someone with such an astounding name.

So next Tuesday I will be meeting the one and only Myrtle Muggle for a few sessions.

I do hope she can give me some pointers on shoveling snow.

The Stress Test

Below is a list of stressful events in one's life. Find the ones that fit for you, add them up and then become even more stressed out or depressed. Follow me as I count up my stress factors and see what my score is:

The Impact of Life Crises, and How to Minimise Them
Life crises such as death of a spouse, divorce or bankruptcy can disrupt even the best stress management regime.
Different life crises have different impacts. In many cases, however, it may be possible to anticipate crises and prepare for them. It may also be useful to recognise the impact of crises that have occurred so that you can take account of them appropriately.

Some very interesting work in this area has been done by Drs T H Holmes and R H Rahe, with the Social Readjustment Scale. This allocates a number of 'Life Crisis Units' (LCUs) to different events, so that you can evaluate them and take action accordingly. While this approach is obviously a simplification of complex situations, using LCUs can give you a useful start in adjusting to life crises.

The idea behind this approach is to run down the LCU table, totalling the LCUs for life crises that have occurred in the previous 2 years. As a rule of thumb, you may anticipate some form of serious mental or physical effects of the crises according to the following table:


Life Crisis Units and the Probability of Illness

LCUs Probability of illness

300 80%+
200-299 50%
150-199 33%

The LCU table is shown below:


Life Crisis Scoring Table

Event LCUs
Death of spouse 100 Nope
Divorce 73 Nope
Separation 65 Nope
Jail term 63 Running from the law
Death of close family member 63 Yes
Personal illness or injury 53 Nope
Marriage 50 Yes
Fired at work 47 Nope
Marital reconciliation 45 Nope
Retirement 45 Nope
Change in health of family member 44 Yes
Pregnancy 40 Hell no
Sex difficulties 39 Nope
Gain of new family member 39 Nope
Business readjustment 38 Nope
Change in financial state 38 Yes, yep and uh huh
Death of close friend 37 Nope
Change to a different line of work 36 Yes
Change in number of arguments with spouse 35 Nope
A large mortgage or loan 30 Kinda
Foreclosure of mortgage or loan 30 Nope
Change in responsibilities at work 29 No job
Son or daughter leaving home 29 Nope
Trouble with in-laws 29 They love me
Outstanding personal achievement 28 Hardly
Spouse begins or stops work 26 Yes
Begin or end of school or college 26 I wish
Change in living conditions 25 Yes
Change in personal habits 24 Yes
Trouble with boss 23 I wish
Change in work hours or conditions 20 Once again no job
Change in residence 20 Yes
Change in school or college 20 Nope
Change in recreation 19 Learning to freeze
Change in church activities 19 Going to burn in hell
Change in social activities 18 Yes
A moderate loan or mortgage 17 Yes
Change in sleeping habits 16 No
Change in number of family get-togethers 15 Yes
Change in eating habits 15 I wish
Holiday 13 Fucking yes
Christmas 12 Fuck yes
Minor violations of law 11 Shhhh

Where you are in danger of suffering the ill effects of life crises, try to minimise the disturbance to your life. If, for example, you have lost someone close to you, try to avoid changing your job.

If you have a high score, or know that you will have a high score in the future, it may be worth pre-empting any problems by adopting stress management strategies now. Look after yourself.


Ok let's add them up together shall we?
We have:
63+50+44+38+30+26+25+24+20+19+18+15+13+12
Ok for you math wizards you probably can count this in your head. Obviously since I am so stressed out I can't so I shall use the calculator to find out how near death I am:

adding.......

Other things that can add stress is using a calculator that is used by engineers. Any calculator that has stuff for calculus is evil.

And the grand total is:

397
Impressive huh? Of course I am disappointed which makes me stressed out that I couldn't even hit 400, but let see what does it mean that I am at 397?

So it says here over 300 and I have a probability of an illness befalling me. But they do all this studying and then don't even give us a head up on what kind of illness might land on our doorstep.

Will it be?
Leporsy
a bad hair day, week or month

I can't even imagine. But tis important to remember that I have control over how I react to people, places and things and just because I am at the top of my class when it comes to stress.

At least I'm not part of the Conservative Party.

It's M Damnit Not N

To protect Brenda I didn't use her last name but only her initial. My paranoia has obviously gotten worse because her last name does not start with an "N" but with an "M".

I stand corrected.

Stella meets Peter the Porcupine

Gather round boys and girls for the continuing adventures of Stella. Stella coming from the great northwest was known far and wide for her grand cat hunting abilities. The cats feared her and she was strong and proud of her prowess and strength.

Stella wanting to go on an adventure to prove to other lands how powerful she was moved to Northern Saskatchewan knowing the cats would shake with fear from just the mention of her name. But when she moved into her new home she was at first baffled, then alarmed and frightened of the cats up north. For every time the meowed behind a closed door or their paws would appear from underneath a door, her owner would whisk her away into another room a close the door. This happened so often that soon every time that Stella the fierce cat hunter would her a meow her ears would press back into her head and she would run to her room, knowing that these cats must be strong and maybe could hurt her. But she knew that even if she was hurt she would win because she was STELLA the CAT HUNTER

Her owner wanting to go running took both Stella and the lab Sara for a run in the snow yesterday. They ran to a small park and the owner thought it would be safe since no one else was there to let them run in the snow. She let Stella go and then Sara, but a second later what did she see boys and girls? Stella had found what looked like a stray cat underneath a tree and was trying to bite it. The owner wanting to save the cat yelled NO!, as she ran closer and she saw this was no small forlorn cat but Peter the Porcupine out for a morning walk. Stella was easily pulled away from Peter and the owner saw that her face was full of quills sticking out of her tongue and lips and mouth. The owner thought to herself about the old joke and not realizing she said outloud; someone said to a woman if you had as many pricks sticking out of you as you have had stuck in you, you would be a porcupine.

Jimmy raised his hand "I don't understand what does that mean Ms. Manning".

Never mind Jimmy and quit interrupting.

So the owner grabs Stella and Sara and runs as fast as a quilled up dog and a 10 year old lab can run in snow and ice back to the house. She jumps in her car with Stella and runs off to the vet. Arriving at the vet one of the thin 19 year old assistants ask, how did she find a porcupine? Well I was running with her. The young thin woman exclaimed that was daring of you to go running in this weather. The owner responded. No what was daring is showing up here in public in my tight running pants and long underwear.

So 20+ quills later and 130.00 dollars Stella came home safe and sound.

Now what did we learn from this boys and girls? Ms. Manning pointed at one of the students - "Yes Suzy" - Suzy all sweetness and light said "that porcupines can hurt?"

"Yes that is true but what else ?" said Ms. Manning.

That maybe Stella might think that porcupines are really big ass killer cats and she won't bother cats anymore. Jimmy yelled out "Don't say that word in class Jimmy, and yes we can be hopeful of that."

But what is the most important lesson learned by this story children? The children looked up at her with blank faces.

That exercising is very, very bad for you.

The End

P.S. What is the most disturbing part of this entire story is that I wanted to take a picture of Stella with quills covering her mouth for this Blog. That my friend is bad, bad, bad.

Snow Shoveling Retraction

Obviously I either don't listen to people or my dyslexia also takes conversations and twists them around to fit my needs because I was told in no uncertain terms that I had got the snow shoveling all wrong.

This quote from Ms. Brenda N -

Nooooooo noooooooo nooooooooo nooooohhh that's down the middle then left and right. Gotta have a place for your feet.

This information will help me in the future in not falling down or getting shit-loads of snow down my boots. I appreciate Ms. Brenda's input and we can only hope that this new information will help my sidewalks not look like a snake having seizures.