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Archive for December, 2007

My Christmas Recap

After much hmmming and hawwwing, I decided to go home for Christmas this year, after skipping it last year due to ‘family disagreements’. Yeah. We’ll go with that.

I’m going to do this post in point-form, cuz honestly my Christmas was sort of anti-climactic (at least as far as my blog is concerned, some things happened which won’t make it onto the interweb). So I’m going to pick the highlights and line ’em up for you guys.

– I got on the plane (after waking up at 4 A.M., yay!) and realized quickly thereafter that I was sitting next to a drunk. A smelly, stinky drunk. Now, if you want to be a drunk, that’s cool so long as it doesn’t affect me. But in this case, it did affect me. His stench was UNbearable. He was oozing beer aroma out of all of his pores. And his pores were closer to me than I would have liked, since he seemed to believe that his side extended well into the middle range of my seat. I wanted to elbow him or accidentally stab him in the jugular with my knitting needles, but drunks are a tricky bunch and hard to read in terms of their reactions. I didn’t need him going all hobo-crazy on me at 30,000 feet. So I just suffered my way through it.
– By the way, did you know you can take metal knitting needles onto a plane? This strikes me as counterintuitive. I can’t take a water bottle on, but knitting needles are all good. Huh. Who knew?

– I got home and after the initial awkward hug game, les parents et moi had NOTHING to say to each other. Stared at each other like strangers. It was tons of fun. This is perhaps why I talk to them maybe every 3 months. Cuz it’d just be a waste of time for all involved.

-I confirmed that Saskatoon traffic, though far less heavy, is actually worse to drive in. It’s hard to explain, so I won’t even try cuz all the people who live in big cities will freak out at me and tell me I’m wrong (which, never happens right?),so I’ll just move on.
– I confirmed this while heading with my father to a meat shop. Nothing out of the ordinary, he needed to pick a few things up. I had nothing to do, so I tagged along. I had no idea it was to turn out so great. I walked in and was toodling around when I looked up. And I thought to myself immediately “Oh my God, you know you’re in Saskatchewan WHEN……..”

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Okay, so they had animal heads ALL OVER this damned place. I loved it! HA! I was dying. So I made a spectacle of myself entirely by whipping out my camera cell phone (a WHAT? what be that there contraption? how come it’s not attached to no wall or nothing? where you from girl? the CITY?!) and running around snapping pics. And when I got these two, the kid behind the deli counter goes to me, “There’s a big antler rack in the back!” So I shoved my phone at him and asked him to snap a pic for me. He goes, “Naw! Come into the back!”

So, I did. And I took this picture:

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As I was being escorted into the back room, I yelled back to my dad, “Look! I’m getting VIP treatment over here!” People don’t just yell out random things in Sask like they do in Toronto, so of course everyone looked scared. And while I was snapping the photo, 15-year-old deli boy goes to me, “Yeah, these here are nice, but my grandma just shot a 1,200 pound moose last weekend!”

I LOVED IT. His GRANDMA is out hunting moose in fucking December! And the old bitty got one! I almost died. I thanked the kid and went on my merry way.

– I got the mother of all colds on Christmas Eve. I do believe it was the universe trying to tell me that I shouldn’t have gone back. I’m still suffering from it. This cold totally killed me on the flight back, but it kept me away from those awful prolonged hugs with relatives you don’t want to hug…..or touch. When they came near me with wide open arms, I could just yell ‘I’m sick!’ and brandish a snotty kleenex in their direction. Crisis averted.

– I drank a lot of wine. Lots. I also knitted a lot. Nobody wants to talk to an armed wino.

– My brother saw that I’d gotten him something (after my father insisted that I do so) at 11:30 on Christmas Eve. He was totally dumbfounded and admitted he’d gotten me nothing. So he runs out to try and get something, which was totally pointless cuz nothing is open that late on Christmas Eve in S’toon. He returned later, telling me I was up shit creek. I honestly didn’t care. I only cared cuz I wasn’t allowed to not get HIM something, but it was alright for him to not get ME anything. Whatever. It turned out that he was in the majority, as my parents got me nothing too. Ahhhhh, family love. Unconditional, right?

– I got mocked incessently (sp?) for being from Toronto. I can’t even tell you how many times people asked me, ‘So, what are you doing out THERE?’ and when I responded with “Living, working, you know,” they scoffed and said, ” I don’t know WHY you’d want to be out there!” Which would only be encouraged by my dad as he’d pipe in with ‘Yep, centre of the universe, Toronto’. At which point I would say, “Oh! I also get made fun of constantly….along with living and working and such.” Seriously, my one cousin just moved to buttfuck nowhere, population 700, and nobody said anything that bad about it. I didn’t dare crack a joke about what her commute must be, for fear I’d be thrown into the fireplace.

– I also discovered a cure for the fear of flying. Get a head cold two days beforehand. Here’s how it works: your ears will hurt so damned much that you won’t be able to think about how scared you are. You’ll just be wondering if it really is physically possible for the pressure in one’s head to get so intense that they it just busts open. I didn’t even have time to be terrified. It was lovely.

– I got the mother of all bad gifts. I have a pic of it:

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It’s a doiley. A doiley. One. One doiley. What do you do with a doiley? I thought the days of doileys were dead and gone. But no! A DOILEY???? What part of me exactly says ‘give me a doiley!’ Tell me please, cuz that part of me has to go. Ugh. Shudder.

– I also had a second “You know you’re in Saskatchewan WHEN” moment:

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Now, you can’t really see it, but my phone says NO SERVICE!!!! Ah! I must have fallen off the end of the earth!! This doesn’t happen in Toronto, unless you’re on the subway. I was miffed. I didn’t know what to do! All day during Christmas, I couldn’t call my girls or the boyfriend to wish them a Merry ol’ Day. I was so sad. Everyone made fun of me (obviously), but I cared not. I took a pic to document the horridness of it all.

Anyhow, sorry for the anti-hilarious post. I was hoping to go a couple rounds with my mom for the sake of this post, but I generally kept my mouth shut and therefore avoided most arguments. I had two. Neither of which need to be posted here.

I couldn’t even get a rise out of them with the tattoo they didn’t know about. I told them both to stay in the kitchen while I went to go get something to show them. I was planning on throwing on a low-backed tank top (packed solely for this moment), but as I was going upstairs my dad goes, “Is it a tattoo?” WHAT? How did he know?? My dad just does this type of thing all the time. So I showed them anyhow:

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My dad’s only response once seeing it was: “Is that permanent?” Dudes, totally not the war I was excited for. My mom said nothing. I decided to take her silence as anger, I’m really good at pissing her off. Whatever, it holds an immense amount of meaning for me and I couldn’t love it any more.

Next year though, a new tradition shall begin. I will be 25 and I think that’s a good age to start a tradition. I’ll stay here. I’ll buy my own tacky Christmas decorations. I’ll get drunk with friends and not family. I’ll go to midnight mass with my atheist boyfriend.

Most importantly? My phone will work and my day shall be doiley-free. Hope you all had a good Christmas.

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I give! I’ll do whatever you want! Please!!

Oh body, why can’t we be friends? Look, I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much, but can’t we just talk about it like the grownups we are?

You’ve taken me hostage and I’m ready to give up. I’m done. You can claim victory on this one, alright? I’ll totally give you this win if you’ll just give me back my hearing.

Honestly, you’ve stripped me of my hearing in my right ear at all times and my left ear is iffy at best. I can’t stop blowing my nose and now the skin is all raw and icky. You’ve developed a nice little cough in my lungs that has kept me awake for two nights now, along with the boyfriend (who is less than impressed). My head feels like it’s going to explode at any minute, and on the plane ride back, I was seriously wondering if it was possible. I felt bad for the flight attendant who would have to clean up my mess of a blown up head.

And for what? Why are you doing this to me? I’m good to you body, I really am. I feed you, I clean you, I dress you up in pretty little things, I even take you out for a walk every once in a while. We work out together, dance around to bad music when nobody is around, I give you plenty of sleep. I even exfoliate! What more do you want?!

Please, tell me. This pain in my head is getting to be too damned much for me. I know you started this retaliation on Christmas Eve, maybe to tell me that I shouldn’t have gone home. But we’re back in Toronto now, can’t you give it up? I learnt my lesson! We won’t go next year, I swear. Next year, we’ll stay in hogtown and drink it up with friends, alright?

I’ve done everything that’s appeased you before….I’ve taken a lot of naps to give you time to rest, I’m drinking tea like nobody’s business (or like Romi, for that matter….hey Romi, did ya like that? huh? huh?), I’m drinking lots of orange juice, I didn’t go to work today and I left early yesterday. I’m done. Out of ideas.

Please body, let’s just be friends again, okay? If you let me hear out of my right ear and stop this insane pressure in my head (particularly behind the eyes and in the forehead), I’ll do something special for you, okay? I dont know what yet, cuz I can’t think with all this damned pain, but….please?

Though I do like my raspy new voice, courtesy of this little cold here. Can we keep that?

Patience, my lovelies…

I know you must all be DYING to know how my Christmas back home was.

I have a few stories, and a few pics, but I also have the deadliest head cold known to man kind and a severe sleep deficiency, so I’m going to bed now. And then I get to go back to work bright and early tomorrow! Woop dee fucking doo!

So you shall all have to hang tight until tomorrow for my sure-to-be entertaining Christmas Recap post. I’ll do it tomorrow at work, you know, while I’m ‘working’.

And it’ll have pics. Some viewers may find them offensive, but I don’t think they really are, it’s just that some people are so damned sensitive nowadays, I thought I’d throw that little disclaimer in there.

Ohh! What can they be? I know, you’re trembling with anticipation. Tomorrow! Now, I’m off to drink some orange juice and try and beat this monster of a cold. My big hope for tomorow is that I’ll be able to hear out of my right ear, because I am currently completely deaf on that side. It’s lots of fun.

Here’s a nifty little idea! Courtesy of my mother!

I knew coming home for the holidays would be hard. What I didn’t anticipate would be the hilarity that I’d also get out of it.

A lot of things my mom does piss me off. But this year, with the help of alcohol and a non-chalant attitude, I’m finding them just downright hilarious. I haven’t gotten into a fight with her yet (though she did get in one with me….I just refused to participate, something about how my eating out offends her, from 3,000 km’s away), but I have witnessed some hi-larious shit.

Observe the following, which normally would have me seriously contemplating the sanity of both my mother and myself, for coming home to her house, but instead just provided me with laughter. That kind of silent laughter where your whole body shakes, and is funnier than it really is, cuz you have to be quiet, so you start crying cuz you’re laughing so hard? Yeah, that kind.

So, I’m sitting in the living room, doing SFA (sweet fuck all), when I hear my mom call the dog into the kitchen. I hear my mom ask the dog to lie down. I hear my mom go into the junk drawer, then plug something in. Then, I hear some loud buzzing noise. This is followed by my mom screaming at the dog, saying ‘No! Stay STILL!’, then scrambling of little dog feet on the linoleum and the loud smashing of my mom jumping around the kitchen trying to catch said dog. Then more buzzing.

It is then that I realize what she’s doing. The dog needed her nails clipped. But my mom, believing she is the reincarnation of Bob Vila (despite the fact he isn’t dead yet) has decided to…….use a fucking DREMMEL POWER TOOL to GRIND down the dogs nails, instead of clipping them.  She claimed the dog preffered it.

I. SHIT. YOU. NOT.

I was dying. DY-ING. Because the greatest part was that you could hear my mother throwing herself around the kitchen on her knees, in vain attempts to grab whatever part of the dog was the last to run out of the kitchen, looking for refuge.

I sat there the whole time thinking, ‘Where the hell am I? This is SO going on my blog. Oh my GOD, what is that woman doing? Seriously? A dremmel fucking power tool?’

Priceless.

On a side note, I almost flipped today when I realized that there was no coffee shop in walking distance from my parents house. I wanted a coffee. There was no Starbucks, no Second Cup, no Tim Horton’s, nothing! I can’t MAKE coffee, what, do I live in fucking 1943? No! I buy my coffee like any spoiled city bitch. It was a terrible realization. I had no choice but to go to sleep. Which is what I’ve done the whole time I’ve been here. The first night, I slept for 13 hours. OH, sweetness. I love you sleep.

I find it easier to sleep here. Maybe it’s the lack of sirens going past my building every 48 seconds. Maybe it’s the clean air. But I think it’s being in my parents house, which brings up comfy ‘someone will do it for me’ feelings (along with awful repressed childhood memories which we won’t go into). The couch seems comfier, the bed is softer, the food is yummier, the messes less of an issue, cuz it’s my parents house. I dont know, it’s very weird for me to be home, cuz I hate it so much, but it’s still comforting, cuz it’s what I know, you know?

Whoah, getting a little deep there. Sheesh. That side of Talea is very rarely allowed on the blog.

Anyways, if you don’t know what a Dremmel Power Tool is, google it. I’d do it and paste the pic up, but this is the S L O W E S T computer since the days of vaccuum tubes, I swear. I think it might blow up if I search for graphics. Nobody needs that. And I’ll tell you all what I told the boyfriend about the Dremmel story….tell everyone you know, this shit is too good to keep quiet!

I already miss Toronto….this doesn’t bode well.

I take off for home sweet home Saskatchewan in just over 8 hours for Christmas.

I haven’t seen my parents since October 2006 and I haven’t seen my brother since December 2005, along with most of my extended family.

I have to wake up at 4 AM tomorrow to catch my taxi to the airport, since the subways don’t run early enough to get me to the airport on time for my inhumanely early flight.

I like Christmas. I love Saskatchewan. But I’m currently shitting my pants.

I am scared out of my mind to fly. I HATE flying. And it only gets worse every time I do it, which is kind of irrational. I think my plan of attack is going to be to stay up until 2 or so, so I’ll only get two hours of sleep. Then I’ll go to the airport, deprive myself of caffeine and maybe find some greasy spoon to fill myself up with pancakes at. The carbs should help me at least be a bit sleepy. I’m hoping they’ll overpower the adrenaline that will inevitably be preventing me from actually falling asleep. I can’t even fall asleep on planes after some heavy heavy drugs meant to bring down horses. Seriously.

After the flight, there’ll be the oh so awkward reuniting with my parents. First there will be ‘smiles’, then ‘hugs’. Then my mom will run off to the Tim Horton’s to get me a coffee, but really to get out of the thick tension. My dad will just repeatedly ask me how I’m doing. He might tell me I’m fat, he might tell me I need to cut my hair or wear more makeup. Frankly, I expect him to tell me all three. Then he’ll ask me if I’m up to date with my VISA payments and ask how far paid off my lines of credit are. Ah, unconditional love, no?

Ugh.

After waiting for my bags, we will drive home in Saskatoon traffic. Now, Saskatoon does not HAVE traffic, per se. I mean, not like Toronto or LA or New York or anything. They have their own kind of traffic. Small town traffic. Where there’s no such thing as a fast lane, where everyone is too courteous and constantly trying to let someone else in. Nobody runs yellow lights, so you sit through a million light changes. Nobody speeds. Nobody will honk anyone…..unless it’s Joe that you haven’t seen for a while. Then you’ll honk and wave, maybe pull over and block some more traffic, but folks’ll understand…you must know that there fella! All in all, it will irritate me. People in Toronto are assholes when they drive, but they’re assholes in a very predictable manner, which I much prefer.

THEN I get to go home and inform my parents they’re getting squat from their eldest child. I just couldn’t do it this year. I really didn’t feel like wasting my money on something my mom would hate (remind me to tell you the clock story, oh my) or on something my dad will pretend to like, but will toss aside carelessly and that I will find in the basement in a few years, covered in a thick layer of dust. Screw it, so they get nothing.

After this revelation, I figure I’ll keep up with the news they don’t want to know, so I might choose this time to reveal the tattoo. Much hilarity shall ensue. And by hilarity, I mean yelling.

This will be followed up with days of me sitting on the couch, being bored out of my skull. I will occasionally be forced to go to Wal Mart or to Superstore or to wherever with my mom, since she has a strange thing with insisting someone come with her at all times. It’ll suck.

Don’t even get me started on Christmas Day. Before 9 AM, I’ll guarantee that it will be ruined already. Gu-ar-an-tee. I dont know how. But I do know it. I’ll write another post later about why you can’t ever buy my mom a good gift. You will always fail. Always. She’ll throw a tantrum, which is always attractive on a middle aged woman, then we will get in the van (how cute) for a 2.5 hour drive across the wide open plains for the only part I’m REALLY going home for.

We’ll arrive at my Aunt’s house and for a few short hours, I will thoroughly enjoy myself. I will not care that my mom is sulking in the corner, I will ignore her and do what every good person does on Christmas…..get totally smashed with family members.

Then I get to get back on a plane again! Oh boy!

Seriously, I miss Toronto already. I specifically asked you guys for advice on whether or not I should do this. Nobody said straight out ‘no’. I’m a little irked about that, kids! Why didn’t you stop me?! Hehe. I’ll miss my subway, the crazies, the streetcars, the loudness, the crowded sidewalks, the cool people….and my friends and the boyfriend.

Ladies, you know who you are…..Awesome Friend, Crafty Friend and Lovely Friend, I’ll miss you and even though I made this decision, know that I’m still torn up about it. You’ve made this the greatest year ever and I hope you have amazing Christmases. Have some shortbread and turkey for me! And have the wine stockpiled for when I get back….I’ll have some serious venting to do.

I’m now off to finish packing, run around like mad, have a panic attack or two and find out if I can take knitting needles on the plane or not…..

Think happy ‘keep the plane in the air’ thoughts for me, and the next time you’ll hear from me, it’ll be from the wide open prairie! Bye!

Universal Truth #28

Ladies, if you leave your purse on the counter of a public washroom while you go to do your business, it should not be considered theft is someone raids it.

Just a few moments ago, I went to go and do my thing in the washroom that this whole floor shares. By definition, it is therefore, a public washroom. I walked in and on the counter to my right, a good 10 feet away from any stalls was a purse. It was sitting there, WIDE open. Immediately on the top was a very snazzy cell phone and a wallet.

Unattended purse? You deserve to be stolen from. She's smart, she's got the phone and the cash.

If I was not as good a person as I am, I would have grabbed them, said to hell with going to the bathroom and run back to my office where I would hide my loot until I could go home, sell shit and use the VISA card to provide the best Christmas ever for my friends and selected family members.

They have hooks on the back of bathroom doors specifically to prevent bathroom thievery. Take advantage of these, lest you be taken advantage of yourself!

So, in conclusion to what must be my shortest blog post ever: Universal Truth #28: If you leave your purse unattended and wide open in a public spot where there is absolutely no need to do so, it should be considered one’s civic duty to steal it. You are dumb and need to be taught a lesson. Sometimes, lessons hurt.

I like pictures…..aka, I’m too lazy to write

Too lazy to write. If I did start writing, it would likely dissolve into me absolutely losing my shit over the fact that I am home in FOUR DAYS. Four days?! Just writing that gave me a bit of a heart attack folks, honestly.

Come to think of it, I totally should write about it and you can laugh at me and my freak outs and the secret phone calls that have been made between Toronto and Saskatchewan, totally bypassing my mother. But that’s for another day! On to the stolen memes! I got this one from cowgal and Greenie. For each question, you type your answer into google images and post the first one that comes up. Oh fun!

1. The number of my next bday:

 

 

 

 

 

 

2. Place I’d like to visit:

The redwood forests in California. I LOVE trees. I think it has a bit to do with growing up prairie and not seeing any for 17 years. Seriously though, I would LOVE to see these trees. Amazing. They’re probably the only reason I’d ever step foot in California.

3. Favourite place:

This is what I got when I typed in Saskatchewan prairie. Just looking at it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Roads exactly like this are all over where I grew up. I love driving down one, pulling over and just wandering into a wheat field (or canola field, which that one happens to be…..you can tell from the yellow flower….tee hee!) and standing there. Listening to nothing. There you can understand the term ‘silence is deafening’, because it actually is when it’s total and complete silence. I also love areas that are slightly flatter than this where you can see forever and you really get the perspective of life, you realize you’re so small and that there’s so many other bigger things than you…..all in all, it’s pretty damned awesome. Except for all the inevitable grasshoppers and gophers…..

4. Favourite object:

I typed in library card. This is the first one that came up. I love my library card. I can go to one of the 99 branches in Toronto and learn about anything. I’m a nerd. Love to learn. Love to read. I love fiction. I always have my nose in a book. Always.

5. Favourite food:

 

Um, is wine a food? Good. I typed in chilean Cabernet Sauvignon and I got this weird ass picture. Fine, if you insist on a more traditional definition of food, then here:

Garlic cheese bread. Mmmmmmmm.

6. Favourite colour:

Typed in ‘no favorite colour’. My fav colour changes every hour. I dont know. I don’t have one.

7. Nickname:

Um, yeahhhh….My nickname isn’t ‘Muscley Army Dude’. My nickname is (begrudgingly) ‘T’. Everybody eventually just ends up calling me T. Talea just has too many syllables I suppose. But yeah, I typed in ‘T’ and this was the first thing that came up. I dont know.

8. Place I was born:

Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Also known as the ‘City of Bridges’. The South Saskatchewan river cuts through the city and so we have seven bridges there to get from one side to the other.

There ya go, that’s my meme. I’m off now to a Christmas shindig.

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