He’s a dear boy.

Fact 1: I am a light sleeper with intermittent insomnia. It is something I am working on, but it is a hard row to hoe.

Fact 2: I have been with The Boy for 14 years. He pretty much knows all the things about me there are to know. Including Fact 1.

I got up early this morning, before I was really properly awake, did a big pile of things, and then made myself crawl back into bed about 4 hours later because my eyeballs hurt.

Shortly after I fell asleep, the boy walked into the bedroom.

Him (full volume): “Are you awake?”

Him: “Because I wanted to ask if I got the right thing yesterday? I think maybe you wanted baking soda and I got baking powder?”

Me: “You… woke… me… up… to ask me that?”

Him: “I was just wondering.”

Me: “You are beautiful and have many charming qualities, but I kind of want you dead right now. Baking powder.”


Later the same day…

I am in my office, listening to “Salute Your Solution” rather loudly, and I may have been excitedly exclaiming to myself, also rather loudly, as I began allocating and filling my new storage boxes. (“Jolly disco!”)

When The Boy came into my office – which, of course, made me jump (Fact 3) – and started laughing at me. First for being startled, and then “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. Keep enjoying your little storage party. What were you saying to your files?”

Me: “You are ruining my day.”

Him: “Don’t blog this.”


UPDATED. The Him says I misquoted him, and has the following amendments:

Him: “When I came into your office, I shouted “FILE PARTY!” and joined in your raucous celebration of filing. Also, I didn’t say ‘don’t blog this’, I said I’m going to blog this.”

Oh my.

A Good Marriage: Using your words (and obscene hand gestures)

Not to use swears, but I am pretty darned good at just telling the husband what I need — and expecting him to do the same. I mean, fuck, games are for good times with buddies and bourbon sours, words are for gettin’ it done.

I like to be super specific. A la:

* “Could I have a hug?”
* “I could really use a cup of tea if you have a minute.”
* And, of course, one of my many obscene hand gestures. Those are his least favourite, in that he’s a fan of what they represent, but he finds them “not classy” or something. He’s my delicate little flower.

When it comes to gift-giving though, sometimes I outdo myself with my specificity (though I guess the hand gestures leave little to the imagination…):

From: Me <me@me.com>
To: Him <him@him.com>
Date: Mon, Jan 27, 2014 at 9:49 AM
Subject: Haaaaapppy
Valentine's Day to meeeeee Happy Valentine's Day toooooo meeee Happy Valentine's Day, dear Chaaaayyyyydaaaay Happy Valentine's day toooooooooooooo meeeeeeeee!: http://www.lush.ca/Love-Locket/05066,en_CA,pd.html#start=7

My sister reviews movies.

At some point, my immediate family went from being totally in the same boat on movies, to everyone abandoning ship to the life rafts and setting off in cardinally opposite directions.

My siblings and I can now comfortably acknowledge this with each other, and the shorthand is usually a reference to our father’s increasingly appalling taste in movies. Movie suggestions are often caveated by a reference to one of my dad’s later-day favourites: “Well, you might like it, but … My Big Fat Greek Wedding”.

But even when we don’t agree, I still enjoy hearing what my big brother and little sister (LS) are watching and liking.

And, unsurprisingly, the little sister who works in the jungle really just watches movies for the creatures… Plot, shmot.

Little Sister: “For 1st night of new year: popcorn, pjs and pelicula.”

Me: “Whatcha going to watch?”

LS: “It is looking like Planet Earth or Life of Pi. Might be Life of Pi, because David makes me sleepy and being alone with tigers in boats less so…”

Me: “I don’t understand Life of Pi. Is it good? Everything I’ve read about it makes me feel a little stabby, but that may be because the furry tiger inside me who is supposed to teach me lessons about life and love and spirituality died long ago because I only fed him the bitter fish of pessimism and hypercriticality. Then I made a coat out of his skin because practical.”

LS: “I have no idea. We spent like 200 days at sea and I passed out. [My girlfriend] won’t tell me the ending, but apparantly the irritating Canadian now believes in god because I saw that part. Visually it was quite well done. It is hard to win me on content. I liked Avatar when I saw it last week. Though it was also over the top. I like the animals.”

My sister’s movie reviews are my favouritest movie reviews. Though they, and maybe large chunks of her life, could probably be summed up as “I like the animals“.

ABRAZOS HERMANITA! May your animal movies be plentiful. 🙂

Facebook Ads: “We can make it look like an accident”

I really enjoy watching Facebook ads flounder with my relatively anonymous “incomplete” account.

Why would anyone not complete their Facebook profile? Why don’t I want people to reach me? People could be trying to reach you right now. Why won’t you reach back? Why are you such a cold monster?!

What possible reason could I have? WHERE ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING OH GOD IT BURNS!!

Here’s today’s best guess:

Nailed it.

Or… wait. Do they need to be more specific?

Always be specific kids. Also don’t do, or sell, drugs.


…if you do…

Facebook knows a guy.

It was the best of times, it was ssssssssAJsssM

From the first pages of the late great David Rakoff’s Don’t Get Too Comfortable:

LONDON, May 9—Give an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, the theory goes, and they will produce the complete works of Shakespeare. Give six monkeys one computer for a month, and they will make a mess. Researchers at Plymouth University in England reported this week that monkeys left alone with a computer failed to produce a single word. “They pressed a lot of S’s,” said Mike Phillips, a researcher in the project which was paid for by the Arts Council. The researchers left a computer in the monkey enclosure at Paignton Zoo in southwest England, home to six Sulawesi crested macaques. Then they waited. Eventually, the monkeys produced only five pages of text, primarily filled with the letter S. At the end, a few A’s, J’s, L’s and M’s were struck. “Another thing they were interested in was defecating and urinating all over the keyboard,” Mr. Phillips added.

-Associated Press


No. Just… no.

I can’t say it better than good ol’ PhotographyFace:


Oh wait. Okay, that was earlier. Here we go:

PF: “You know they’re doing a movie version of Battleship right? The board game?”
Me: “I have heard that.”
PF: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDMXkPfxjOc
Me: “I also heard it was terrrrrrible.”
Me: “Gah! YouTube ad! Fuck you unskippable YouTube ad!”
Me: “I can’t get past the daughter thing. I’m trying to get to the ships but I keep throwing up over and over in my mouth.”
PF: “I don’t recall many aliens when playing Battleship.”
PF: “Fuck yeah.”
PF: “Now I want to buy Battleship and make someone play it, just so I can stand up, and nuke their shit from space and say ‘I’m playing as the aliens‘.”
Me: “We have it.”
PF: “Go make TheBoy play with you. Then get some large thing you can stand up and throw at his ships and go ‘Aliens mother fucker!‘, then walk away.”

My Thursday evening is clear…

I only interrupt him for the important things.

Me: *knocking on husband’s home office door*
Him: “Yeeees?”
Me: “The spa I go to for waxing has a new service called ‘The Cracker Jack’, where they wax your bum. And I think that’s a great name, but I think it would be better if it was called ‘Crack is Whack'”.
Him: “I’m glad you don’t own your own spa.”


I love all our animal brethren

On a very, very bad day recently, I rented an SUV. And because it is so deeply ridiculous for me to drive an SUV, it made me laugh all day long. Which was exactly what I needed during an incredibly shitty time.

After a gmail chat wherein I said to a friend that dolphins could “suckit” and implied that polar bears should dine on my buttocks, he took it upon himself to illustrate my 24 hours of SUV pwnage.

Comment from the Artist: “My favourite part is the accuracy.”

Some friends just really “get” you.