If I can't dance I don't want to be in your revolution

We sure picked a dumb time to not be invisible

2004-12-10T17:19:00.000-07:00

I just finished sending an email to a coworkers
And instead the email saying "sorry for the inconvenience"
Microsoft's spell-check decided to screw me.
And since I am usually not paying attention
I didn't realize
That instead
It said
"sorry for the incontinence"

I about peed my pants when I realized what I had done....

Five By Five

2003-06-06T15:26:00.000-07:00

A random count.

Number of minutes my friends suffered while attempting to eat the charred and chewy meal
I served them before they all broke out laughing – 4

Number of minutes they laughed while screeching inaudibly something about how I have
cooking skills that only my dog would love – 15

Number of days I wore my contacts before finally giving up on finding contact solution
in one of the many unpacked boxes and instead put them in a glass of water by
my bed – 3

Number of contacts I drank this morning – 2

Gazillion dollars worth of computer equipment and not one jar of peanut butter!

2003-06-05T08:18:00.000-07:00

My computer was the hardest thing to place in my new house
I tried a variety of locations in my office
Trying to see which location would suit my fung and my shui
Because I am pretty positive that my desk, for the longest time, has been facing evil.

Some say the glass is half empty, some say the glass is half full, I say, are you going to drink that?

2003-04-22T10:15:00.000-07:00

I ate two doughnuts this morning

One chocolate dipped

The other, white icing with sprinkles

Now I am not only crashing from the sugar high

And feeling really, really sick

And I just noticed that I have one large red sprinkle attached, with white icing, to the end of my nose

I guess the delivery guy wasn’t staring at me because he was madly in love…

I think I'm a little concussed

2003-04-02T21:07:00.000-07:00

Uhhh does someone out there want to whip up a paper for me on the “evolution of feminist theory in Latin America”?

Because I sure as hell don’t want to write it.

I watched “Jackass” instead

And ate a chicken casserole that my friend dropped by

Because I haven’t had a car since the weekend

With its muffler dragging and all

And therefore have no groceries

At least that is my excuse for lack of organization… this week

I really want to go roller-skating

Will someone please take me roller-skating?

Drink what you want, drink what you're able. If you are drinking with me, you'll be under the table

2003-02-28T15:28:00.000-07:00

You know that a night of casual drinks has turned into a night of serious drinking when you order a hotdog in a fine dining establishment.

And you know that a fine dining establishment is one that you will frequent when they have the ability to produce a hotdog for you, albeit covered in pan-fried onions and sun dried tomatoes.

And you know that your waitress will be getting a big tip if when she delivers the hotdog, she also produces a jar of peanut butter just because she wants to make the strange request even stranger.

And you know that you truly love your friends when said hotdog makes the round of the table, each friend generously dipping the hotdog into the peanut butter and taking monster mouthfuls…while commenting on how hotdog and peanut butter isn’t so bad…but that the sun-dried tomatoes has destroyed a perfectly good meal.

All this because of one too many Grey Goose Martinis…

Ahh, home crap home!

2003-01-27T03:06:00.000-07:00

Every so often I catch myself looking around to see where the hidden camera is

Or to see if Dick Clark is going to come out from behind a curtain

Because truly I feel like I am constantly being set up for Blooper and Practical Jokes

Or Canada’s Funniest Home Videos

Or maybe I am just a walking blooper??

Tonight, while cleaning out the rabbit hutch I took the lazy way out by scraping the last of the wet, icky pine shavings into the toilet. Now anyone who wasn’t a walking blooper would quickly realize that this was a very bad idea! But not yours truly…no, true to form I figured quick and easy and out of my life…right? Wrong! Flushing the toilet I quickly realized something was desperately wrong and as the water continued to rise in the bowl I raced to lift off the back of the toilet and to pull up the black floaty ball thing which my limited plumbing knowledge told me would stop the water flow….and it would have, if I hadn’t in my haste, broken the bally thing right off. So there I stood, on top of the toilet with the bollocky bally thing in hand and water pouring out of the bowl and out of the back of the toilet. The dog, coming to my aid, slides across the water and into me, knocking me onto the floor. The two of us lay there for a second stunned, covered in pine shavings and toilet water but he, coming to his senses faster then I, high tails it out of there and into my warm inviting bed. I am left; in a water storm without an ark and with my limited plumbing knowledge no idea how to stop this water. Deducing that I could act in place of the bally thing, I reached into the back of the bowl and pressed down on the leaver that the bally thing would activate. This, to my relief stops the water flow…as long as I stand there holding it down.

10 minutes later I am still there, pressing down and yelling at myself to think how I will get myself out of this literal mess….then it comes to me DUCT TAPE…as every boy has ever told me…when in doubt duct tape it! Taking a deep breath I jump from the toilet, letting the water pour and race downstairs to the “fix-it drawer”…but my dear readers as you probably know already, duct tape does not tape in water! It does however provide a nice level for 2 phone books, 2 text books and a large bowl filled with water. And this is how my toilet lies: lid off, covered in duct tape and topped off with books…it isn’t a pretty site. What was even uglier was the waterfall that greeted me when I entered my kitchen. I guess the water had to go somewhere and best path seemingly was through the bathroom floor, into my kitchen cupboards, onto my kitchen floor, ending up in the basement on top of my newly laundered cloths. So, here I sit with a broken toilet, no food, no clean cloths, no bed and with hands smelling like bleach.

Smile, I am on Candid Camera…

So how was your Sunday?

Ten minutes to Wapner.

2003-01-17T17:00:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been so engrossed in my Psychology studies that I keep thinking that I have every single illness that my textbook describes. Based upon self evaluation I have concluded that I suffer from the following:

Korsakoff’s Syndrome – ‘cuz I don’t give a damn
Borna Disease- Only increased by my mania

Absence Seizures - May be brought on by alcohol

Lazy-eye - And it has spread throughout my body

Seasonal Affective Disorder – ‘cuz I live in Alberta

Panic Disorder – I had 4 heart attacks today

Kluver-Bucy Syndome – I play with matches

Wernicke’s aphasia - Since I don’t even know what I just wrote

Actually there is a word to describe thinking that you have every illness you read about, and it isn’t hypochondria, which I definitely suffer from also and should be added to my list. This disorder affects Medical Students usually…and I would tell you what the word is but my Wenicke’s aphasia is acting up again and I can’t remember it at the moment.

At midnight, I'll turn into a pumpkin and drive away in my glass slipper

2003-01-04T20:07:00.000-07:00

Tonight is night one of my birthday week celebration. getting really cock-eyed with friends temporarily erases the horror that comes with realizing that you are now a whole year older. But not a whole year wiser. And that people now sometimes call me m'am.

I will be at the druid, in a dark corner, rocking back and forth and banging my head against a wall, if you need me.

He who ignores history is doomed to repeat it

2003-01-03T01:01:00.000-07:00

I have just been forced to complete a Jackson Vocational Interest Survey for my counselling course. It wasn’t really about the results but more to teach us how to evaluate the scores. Anyway, to my horror I have discovered that my true vocation apparently lies in encyclopaedia writing…yup, this little test thinks that I should be the one who is able to sum up major wars, or political figures in 150 words or less…this little 289 question test obviously has no idea who it is referring to…because not only am I long winded but I also have a habit of changing history to suit myself or my mood…like the history lesson I gave to this poor French man who was on a tour bus with me in Jamaica who now thinks that Jamaica was founded by King Harland Marley on a Sunday when he went out for a leisurely 3 hour boat tour around Grand Cayman but unfortunately the weather started getting rough and his tiny ship was tossed and if it wasn’t for the courage of his fearless crew his ship would have been lost…but, thankfully, his ship took ground on the shore of that uncharted isle and with no phone, no light or no motor car he forced to remain there. Although they didn’t have luxury, they had pot, and life was good…of course at the time I was translating what the tour guide was saying for him into French…and I may have just asked him for a beer, and if I could go to the bathroom…I’m not too sure…’cuz it is a bit fuzzy…Jamaican rum and all.

My second bestest job apparently is a dictionary writer…which as you all know, and goes without need of explanation, is a huge joke.

But I only got those two job recommendations because they didn’t list Go-Go dancing as an occupation.

I feel like the kling klang queen of the rim ram room

2003-01-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up in my dress with one shoe on
And with a mysterious bruise on my hip
And dog vomit on my floor
‘cuz Bran was busy getting sauced on red wine while I was out
So we are both moping around today nursing our hangovers
Happy New Year
I am going back to bed

Conversations with Body

2002-11-18T10:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Stomach,

After 5 pieces of pizza you are full. Please stop pretending to still
need more food in a pathetic attempt to get back at Waistline.

Thank you,

Andrea

Dear Back,

Please stop whining as you are making Head sore. Just because I lay on
you all day yesterday only moving to get food for Stomach does not mean I
don’t love you. I refuse to continue this battle of wits with you unarmed.

Thanks for your cooperation,

Andrea

Dear Sinuses,

I know I haven’t dusted in a while and you are upset as a result. I am
terribly sorry for the delay and I will fix this problem as soon as Back
stops pouting. If you could have a conversation with Back regarding its conduct, I would
greatly appreciate it,

Andrea

Dear Brain,

Just because there is an empty stage at the bar does not mean you should
persuade Body to jump up on it and sing Whitney Houston songs while
pretending that a celery stick is a microphone.

This behaviour will not be tolerated.

Sincerely,

Andrea

cc Body

Quit looking at me, swan

2002-11-04T16:23:00.000-07:00

Today I am sad

Because there is bird on my window

Just a scuff mark of a bird

Torn skin, feathers and blood

And a blob of eye staring at me

I wish I could put its little bird bits to rest

Or at least wipe it off my window

But I am on the 12th floor

And very scared of heights

What I'm trying to say is, 'I'm not a drinker - I'm a drunk"

2002-10-31T11:15:00.000-07:00

Recipe for Hilarity

this delicious recipe has been in my family for generations. It is a lathery mixture, which consistently delights both the young and old. It is a must for every party or whenever gossip and muddled flashbacks are required.

Ingredients:

4 Good friends

20 Vodka and Tonics

20 beers

5 Scottish boys

Dash of rock (eighties rock prefered)

Take 4 friends and place into an Irish style pub. Pour in 10 Vodkas and 10
beers with a dash of eighties rock. Shake to stir.
When frothy add 5 Scottish boys and the remainder of the
vodka and beers.

Warning: Scottish boys will break into dirty songs at the top of their lungs, and may potentially place their sweatshirts between their legs and pull on them in a rowing motion. Please
remember this is a normal chemical reaction that occurs when Scottish boys are
added to this particular mix.

Add another dash of eighties rock and shake to stir
When mixture is foamy, allow it to sit for 1 hour. The
mixture will crackle as new molecules are formed.
After one hour, pour the hilarity onto the street, and
watch as the mixture attempts to find a cab ride home.

I am Mata Hari, my own master

2002-10-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

My Dog pooped my pants

Yes, you read that correctly
He pooped in my pants…

The thing is, I don’t know whether to scold him for his badness
Or praise him for ingenuity

Other dogs chew shoes
I have even heard of a dog chewing through a wall
These are just paltry attempts at disciplining one's owner

But going to your owner’s closet
Routing through the dry cleaning bag
Choosing the beige herringbone pants vigilantly
Dragging them to the middle of the floor
Setting them up carefully
And then pooping in them
Well… it truly is genius

It is worthy of a prize
Or at least a treat

And I would have given him one
If I didn’t have to explain the whole mess to my drycleaner
Which just gives “the dog ate my homework” a whole new meaning…

I'd love to stay and chat - but I am having an old friend for dinner

2002-10-18T15:45:00.000-07:00

It is all fun and games until you have to rid of the body!

Because how exactly do you get rid of a dead rodent?

Too big to flush

A garbage bin is too callous

I don’t own a shovel and a using a spoon would just take too long…

I called around seeing if anyone was willing to help and suddenly I didn’t have friends anymore…

Except one.

And he came over to remove it from the cage.

And hugged my when I cried.

But then he cried too…

Because, really it was sad

Shut up - it WAS sad

And I am left holding this almost weightless box

With a dead rodent inside

And nowhere to put it

So I get into my car

And drive to a coworker’s house

At 8:00 pm on a Friday night

Hoping I didn’t miss her

Because she was leaving for a weekend with her parents

And knock on the door

And tell her, with tears in my eyes

“This is my dead Guinea Pig - His name was Mr. Papua New Guinea. He needs to be buried – can you take it to your farm?”

And she starts to laugh …

So I kind of do too

Because really it’s quite silly

Crying over a rodent

But she finds it really funny

Like knee slapping funny

And she is laughing so hard

THAT SHE DROPS THE BOX

And Mr. Papua New Guinea

Slides across the floor

And under a chair…

So I did what any level-headed person would do it that situation

I screamed really loud, covered my eyes and hopped up and down

on one foot

But luckily I came to my senses quick enough to grab the dog

Before he used Papua as a squeaky toy

And now Papua is buried (or so my coworker tells me)

Under a tree

RIP

It's not the men in your life that counts, it's the life in your men.

2002-10-11T09:21:00.000-07:00

New-Guinea - Papua, passed away peacefully in his cage October 11, 2002, he was six months old. He is lovingly remembered and survived by his mom Andrea, his best friend Bugsy Malone; and his archrival Brandon. A Memorial Service will be held in Edmonton - Friday October 11, 2002 at 5:00 p.m. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Edmonton SPCA

I love the smell of napalm in the morning...smells like...victory

2002-10-10T10:39:00.000-07:00

Dearest Mom,

If you call me in the wee hours of the morning and yell into my answering
machine “Andrea…come over quick…It’s…it’s an emergency!” I will jackrabbit
out of bed, throw a coat over my pajamas and drive at breakneck speed over
to your house.

HOWEVER

If, when I arrive, you are:

A. sitting up in bed with curlers in your hair

B. wearing a pink bed jacket and

C. reading the paper

and you are not either:

A. terminally ill or

B. mortally wounded

and the emergency is that you forgot to buy milk for your morning cup of
tea and you need me to “just be a dear and pop out to the store and pick
some up” I have every right to, without further notice, transport you to
Shady Acres Retirement Community.

This is your second warning.

Your dutiful daughter,

Andrea

PS Please find attached a Shady Acres colour brochure and information
package. You will be delighted to note that there are daily shuffleboard
tournaments and a Mixed Singles Sock-Hop every Tuesday.

The one in which Andrea goes stark raving mad

2002-10-08T14:04:00.000-07:00

30 gallons of water on my floor

30 gallons of water

get a steam cleaner

suck it up

29 gallons of water on my floor

And this is why fish aren’t the hair free, clutter free, mess free pets they are made out to be.

That's mighty brave talk for a one-eyed fat man

2002-08-20T09:35:00.000-07:00

I am a little crabby today so you will just have to bear with me – I couldn’t sleep well last night and woke up to my throat feeling very sore and my uvula looking like Puss Mountain. But, I have used up all my sick days at work – so here I am…

In my cranky state while driving to work, I was completely annoyed that this car covered in bumper stickers visually accosted me. What is the point of bumper stickers? Why did that person feel the need to ruin a perfectly good Honda Civic by covering it with such gems as “Grow your own dope, plant a man”? HUH? First off, that is sexist and rude and would not be tolerated if that comment was made about woman and secondly it is not like the driver of the Civic actually came up with that little piece of gold herself. No, she trotted into a store slowly turned a rack of bumper stickers around reading each one vigilantly and carefully chose just that one. I wonder if she worried about the placement of this sticker on her car – so that this little knee in the nuts would stand out perfectly – so that every man who drove behind her would see this object in hilarity, so that this one wouldn’t get lost among the throngs of her other bumper stickers promoting her Christian lifestyle.

My city's claim to fame is a mall

2002-08-16T12:43:00.000-07:00

One time, if you are not too busy, you should look at the travel brocures for
your hometown. See what your little place in the world has to offer - you may
not want to live there anymore!

I live in a city with the world’s largest shopping mall. A friend of mine, who
has been spared from actually haing to set foot into this monstrosity said;

“It sounds like the kind of place where you could pop down for a pint of milk and end up staying for 3 weeks. I can just imagine middle-aged women coming out of the supermarket with the week's shopping and saying, 'Right. I just about have enough time for a quick bungee and then I'll get on home and put these groceries away'…I always felt that Blanchardstown Mall was lacking a certain something. I realize now that it really needs dolphins, a wave pool, a few roller coasters, a bungee tower and a scale model of the Santa Maria, to make my shopping experience complete.”

I find the whole thing embarrassing and think it is probably mental ground
zero...

Say hello to my little friend

2002-08-15T11:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my little neighbor-friend Ashley, who is three years old, was relating to me that her Aunt had died. When I expressed my sorrow at her loss she sighed and said, “I know…now that is three people I know who are died - Aunty Michelle, Jesus and Elvis”!