Tag Archives: humour

Google: Pubic Hair

26 Jul

People come to my blog through many doorways. Most commonly by Facebook, Email and Stumbleupon. When people come to my site through those means, I am unsure what they are searching for. I wonder what has brought them here and if they enjoyed what they found. I encourage you to leave a comment or rate my posts, so I can get to know you whilst improving my writing!

But there is another means to reach my site. A more personal path. A route that tells me exactly what you are looking for.

Search Engines.

Do not fear. My technology is not advanced enough to know who you are or where to find you, but, I do know what you come seeking.

Pubic Hair Related Material.

Today, several people or maybe just one person with a lot of pubic hair related needs, came to my blog via search engine by typing in “My husband sheds pubic hair” “Pubes” “pubic hair loss reasons” “Man losing pubes” “genital hair loss”.

This is not the first time a search for pubes has led people to My Life of Cards. A while back I wrote a post pertaining to my husband’s shedding of short, black and kinkies which happen to describe ALL his body hair. One can not be too cautious, they are all pubes when found and must be approached accordingly.

I hope you read THIS post and
1. Felt less alone in your battle against pube shedding
2. Found the solution to your pubic hair dilemma. On a personal note, bathing my husband and brushing him out afterward has downgraded our shedding situation tremendously.

Now for a treat! Here are some of the most searched terms that lead people to My Life of Cards, in no particular order because during the process of “copy and paste” it went all wacky. I responded to what I could.

why do people say balls (because it’s a versatile word and fun to say)

miracles, are they real (Yes, I believe so.)

i hate idaho (Ditto.)

cards about balls (I haven’t made one yet, but come back later… I’ll write one just for you!)

how to get rid of a fat crotch (I Googled this as you did. The only true way to rid yourself is lipo or starvation. Sorry. Feel less alone by reading THIS!)

sexy husbands (Aren’t they nice!?)

i can see your nipple (You’re welcome or I’m sorry.)

dwarf female (Mine is a wizard, what’s yours?)

Where is God? (Good, deep question. Simple answer, God is everywhere.)

female dwarf with bow

holy balls expression (HOLY BALLS!)

jenny mccarthy crotch (No porn here…)

coffee snob (Yes, it’s true.)

tired of being a doormat quotes (I have a card for you, HERE!)

girls period card (Another card, HERE!)

jenny mccarthy crotch shot (Again, no porn.)

American Flag (USA, USA!)

crazy bitch (I don’t know if bitch would be the right word.)

why balls? (I ask myself this all the time.)

dirty housewife (Sometimes.)

Balls Humour (You’ve come to the right blog, my friend.)

condoms (Are uncomfortable but less uncomfortable than AIDS.)

facial hair (Shave it, Wax it, or Embrace it.)

is summer sausage good on an all protein diet? (Yeah and so is Salami, Pepperoni, and Balls… Sorry that was rude. No, it’s not healthy, period.)

neighbor is sexy (Aww thank you!)

i have a fat crotch (Me too, sorry.)

teen guys who kill their girlfriends (Creepy)

fat dimpled butt (Hey! Have you been spying on me???)

girls blood on my undies (Sounds like a job for the dry cleaners, buddy.)

concussion (Suck balls.)

pubes everywhere when i sweep (ME TOO!)

thumbs up (You betchya!)

petting my arm hair (This makes me feel very insecure.)

crack house living room (I had one of those. HERE!)

crotch to crotch exercise (Now this sounds like fun, tell me more in the comments!)

she gets f***** from behind because she is so ugly (That’s just mean…)

doormats behaviour

fatcrotches (Yes yes, I get it.)

bad hair card (Right HERE!)

terry cloth material on fat people (I threw away those shorts, btw.)

fat crotch (Again, check.)

sausage and condom (I see you’ve come across a similar situation.)

scottish eyebrows (I knew a pair once!)

i got a card prison talk (Please elaborate!)

hot white girl gets drunk (responsibly… have we met?)

hibiscus refresher diarrhea (Hmm… Maybe you reacted to the caffeine?)

scottish thick eyebrows

My life sucks (Let’s chat. Email me at mylifeofcards@yahoo.com)

my life of cards lacey (You found me!)

condom filling cartoon

obama you didnt do that (Oh, one of YOU people.)

emotionally unstable post concussion syndrome (Me too. Check out THIS SITE  it’s a wealth of information.)

does intoxication justify infidelity (No, Dumbass. But it does other things HERE!)

tired being doormat (Then strap on your boots and kick down some doors! I believe in you!!!)

That’s 1/3 of the list. People seem to be searching for a lot nowadays and I am glad I can be one to help. Leave a question in the comments and I will respond promptly, you can also email me at mylifeofcards@yahoo.com. No question is too little or too big. I am a fountain of information and advice. I also am full of wit and sarcasm and might not be of much help depending on your question and my mood.

One last thing before I close. What the heck is “Hencet” and why does that word bring people here? It’s a top searched word (sometimes it’s coupled with other random words) and I have yet to figure out what it is or who it is. Search engines bring up a mix bag of weirdballs with those terms. I don’t understand. Will someone please solve this mystery for me!

Happy Thursday Balls!

And The Winner Is…

25 Jul

And the winner is, well, we’ll never know. In the blog world, unless you’re getting visitors in the millions, you apparently only get nominations for imaginary awards.

Cheers and many thanks go out today to two bloggers who have nominated me for two separate awards. That’s right, two. And I have crowned myself victorious because it’s my blog, and it’s an imaginary award, and balls.

The first award bestowed upon me comes from Kelly over at mytwicebakedpotato.com.

Her blog offers up advice based on experience raising a twice exceptional child. She does not claim to have all the answers but when reading her blog, you will in the least not feel alone in your struggles to parent a child with special needs. Go check her out and show some love. She’s doing as an awesome job as a mother and blogger!

These fake awards have rules. Imagine that?

1. Thank the person that nominated you and provide a link to their blog. (LOOK ABOVE. I DID IT!)

2. Tell 7 things that most people may not know about you.

* I am allergic to milk.
* Cats attack me for no reason.
* I would like to open a gourmet bistro catering to the masses who live with food allergies.
* I want to learn Gaelic because I think it would look cool on a resume but serve no real purpose.
* When I was young I wanted to be a gas attendant when I grew up. (I settled for coveralls)
* Given the proper amount of time, I can imitate most singers. I do a great Britney Spears, Taylor Swift, Norah Jones, and I am currently perfecting Adele!

3. Nominate 7 bloggers and let them know about the nomination.

When I nominated bloggers for the last award I received, only 4 bloggers replied to their nomination, and 1 did a post (I think). I believe most bloggers find these awards to be like chain letters and delete them like a forward from a friend in their email. Not that I care either way… since I have already deemed myself the winner. But beings I am the winner, I shall pass the imaginary torch to fellow bloggers who can choose to run with it, or throw it in the trash. Either way, I hope you check out the blogs I link. They are entertaining, inspiring, procrastination enabling and most of all… my favourites. That counts for something, yes?

* The 200 (Wonderful posts in 200 words or less, enjoy!)
* Shut Up Dad (Andrew is hilarious and can brighten any dreary day of mine.)
* Anxiety and Biscuits (Chris admires my usage of balls, he’s a shoo-in.)
* The Lift Blog (She’ll inspire you and make you think.)
* My Parents are Crazier than Yours (Yes they are)
* Clotilda Jamcracker (Weird name, cool blog. Good for gardening/thrifty information as well as giggles. Just found it today!)
* Expert of None (She’s Jill of all trades! She offers up a mixed bag of balls for everyone and everything.)

So there you have it! Thanks again Kelly @ mytwicebakedpotato.com!

On to my second win! Chris Biscuits over at Anxiety and Biscuits bestowed upon me the One Lovely Blog Award!

Chris read my blog and took a liking to my writing, and in particular, my usage of balls. I knew from the moment he created his own ball-word we were destined to be followers of one another! I urge you to check out his blog as it’s one of my favourites. He writes of his humourous struggle through the basics of life. I enjoy his interesting encounters with women, like this one HERE! Thank you Chris, I gladly accept the award nomination and crown myself winner!

Now for the rules. Yeah, they all seem to have rules.

1. Thank the person who nominated you and link back to them in your post. (Did it!)
2. Share seven possibly unknown things about yourself.

* I am terrible with math. Put a letter in an equation and I’m out.
* I have a girl crush on Felicia Day and Taylor Swift.
* I get wrapped up in classic novels. So much so that I find myself talking in Old English.
* I am a food critic. (Non-Professionally)
* I can not open my eyes under water without goggles or I’ll drown.
* I read the Twilight Books and have watched all the movies several times over even though they are terrible.
* I want to go ice fishing.

3. Nominate 5 bloggers you admire. (I totally already named a bunch up there. But lucky for you, I have more favourites!)

* Jake’s Blog
Joe’s Shitty Ideas
* My Life is a Romantic Comedy
* 29 to Life
* Crafting Glass

4. Contact the chosen bloggers to let them know and link back to them. (Yup, will do.)

So there you have it! Thank you to my fellow bloggers for the awards. Thank you to my friends, family, admirers, followers, and God.

Happy Wednesday Balls!

The “Senior Citizen” Card

24 Jul

Usage Guidelines: Use for discounts, excusing behaviour, and pension activation.

Expiration: Never. There is no going back.

Congratulations, you’re old! 65 is a special age and so many wonderful things come to you in this stage of life. For 1, this cool card.

My grandparents, Moose and Pops, use this card well. They take full advantage of the discounts wherever offered. And seriously, I am jealous. It’s wicked cheap to eat out, which is a good thing for them because my Gramma Moose could easily burn a house down.

Businesses even hold Senior Citizen Days and the oldies come out in droves to snatch up the good deals! Watch out for the tiny old women on these days, they are more aggressive than one may think.

I have two firsthand examples of this card being used.

A couple of years ago I was grocery shopping at a local store. I believe it was a day when the government issued their checks to the low-income elderly as the younger crowd was severely outnumbered 10-2. This didn’t bother me, I just remember thinking there were a lot of Senior Citizens out…perhaps there was a special sale? I did not know.

I went about doing some quick shopping. I was mostly there for sick food and Kleenex as it was cold season. I grabbed some cold medicine and headed down the aisle for the Kleenex. The nice stuff, 3-ply with aloe, was on special! There was one left on the shelf, I reached for it and then recoiled as my arm was whacked with a cane.

I turn to face the cane wielder and to give him/her a piece of my mind. There stands an elderly woman in her 80’s, no more than 4 feet 5 inches tall.

Her- “So sorry Deary. I was trying to reach for the Kleenex. Would you be so kind?” Her headed nodded strangely at me.

Me- “Oh that’s ok. I have a hard time reaching things too, glad I can help for once.” The old lady was so sweet sounding, I could not be mad at an accident. I grabbed the regular Kleenex that had been next to the one I took.

Her- “Well that won’t do deary. See, when you are as old as me your skin is like paper. And nowadays it seems I am always taken ill or mourning the loss of a friend. I need the one with aloe deary, for my frail skin.” She nods her head at me again.

I understand what she is getting at. She is nodding at my box of Kleenex in my basket. The last one of the good stuff, on sale. I take a few seconds to process this. I am quite sure she meant to whack me with the cane, and I am quite sure she is pulling out her Senior Citizen Card to get what she wants from me…

She begins to hold out her arms towards me, her hands shaking. She is waiting for me to come to my conclusion and gift her with the coveted Kleenex.
I hand her my box of Kleenex and grab the crappy stuff for myself. Well played old lady, well-played.

My second example:

Senior Citizens tend to have amazing gardens. It must be all their years of knowledge coupled with massive amount of free time. It also might have to do with them stealing water. If you live next to an elderly person with an immaculately kept garden, green and lush, in the middle of a summer drought… keep your eyes on him/her.

A couple of weeks ago I spied an elderly gentlemen on our block grabbing the hose of their neighbor, dragging it across their driveway and watering his own flower beds. Perhaps he had permission to do so, but I highly doubt as he was looking up and down the block frequently.

I am sure he had it all planned out if he was to get caught too. I bet it would consist of him referring to how his wife passed away or how weak he’s become since he’s lost all reasons to live except for keeping his garden green or how it was too hard for him to turn the knob on his own hose with his arthritis, or simply that he was confused and lost. It would probably end with the elderly man getting away with it, and somehow the younger couple feeling bad or guilty in some strange way.

These “Senior Citizen” Card toting people are master manipulators. WATCH OUT! For the sake of your water bill and other stuff.

old age at Rotchild BLVD

Here are some Senior Citizens discussing their master manipulator ways as they pretend to be sweet old people, taking a rest on a beautiful day. (Photo credit: shyb)

The “Irrational Fear” Card

9 Jul

Usage Guidelines: Use when confronted with an irrational fear. If you are unable to decipher an irrational fear from a rational fear, share your fear with a friend. Watch their face for tells as you share. If you see smiles, hear laughter, or the friend responds with, “Are you serious?”, those are all good indications that your fear is in fact, irrational. Grab your card, its in the deck waiting for you.

Expiration: When you finally confront your fear and squash it. Whether it be defeated by force, or through over-priced therapy, congrats! You’re a little less crazy.

I played this card last weekend.

T and I got it into our heads to remove two ugly juniper bushes in the front yard. These bushes reminded me of gnome hats. Not that I have anything against gnomes, I just don’t like bushes that resemble their hats.

The bushes were covered in spider webs. Apparently they were homes to an uncountable number of spiders and spider baby sacs. This fact did not discourage me from aiding in the removal process of these bushes.

I am not scared of spiders.

As T sawed off the branches, I gathered them and placed them in the lawn and garden bag. Soon there was just a tall stump.

I suggested we tie a rope around it and pull it out with the car. Apparently, that was “overkill”.

We began shoveling. The ground began to crawl.

What… Spiders? Ants?

Me: “HOLY BALLS THEY’RE EARWIGS!!!! No, no, no. Absolutely not! Retreat! Retreat!”

Earwig

Earwig (Photo credit: Mamboman1)

I ran from the excavation site making high-pitch squeals while slapping my shins and rubbing down any exposed skin. I felt them in my hair too and started batting at my head and shaking out my hair.

T just stood there in the earwig swarm, staring at my curiously.

After a bit more oblivious-to-the-world freaking out on my part….

T: Honey?

Me: Earwigs! (still rubbing my skin and now slightly winded from all the jumping about)

T: They won’t hurt you.

Me: I know.

T: Then what’s the problem?

Me: They have lots of legs, they are super fast, they are brown, they are shiny, THEY HAVE PINCERS!!!!

T: I don’t think they can harm you.

Me: That’s what everyone says. But when I was younger, one urinated on me and bit me! (T is still standing in the swarm and it’s making me grow more and more fearful/severely uncomfortable by the minute. They might be on him now, burrowing, planning their attack. He could unknowingly bring them into our house on his body!)

T: Umm, OK. I’ll manage without you.

Me: I’ll get the car ready.

T: That’s OK babe.

The earwigs continue to swarm but luckily T was not harmed while digging.

T broke out the ax to break a couple of roots free. As he swung down on the roots, earwigs took flight.

Me: “HOLY BALLS THEY CAN FLY!!!!”

The danger and creepiness increased by 40% and I confined myself to the porch until the stump was removed.

*Shudder* They can fly….

The good news is the ugly bushes are gone and I thoroughly researched earwigs whilst writing this card and I am 100% sure this irrational fear can be overcome.

I’m thinking of “exposure therapy”. Ill start with pictures, then videos, then the real deals out in my flower bed…. I’ll keep you all posted.

As far as I know I only have one other irrational fear.

Airport Layovers.

Hong Kong International Airport

I would need at least 4 hours for a layover in Hong Kong. The airport is HUGE! Who knows how much time I would need or what could go wrong!!! (Hong Kong International Airport: Photo credit: work the angles)

Layovers lasting 2 hours or more have 50% less fear factor but are still unnerving and bring me anxiety. Layovers under 1 hour in length are avoided at all costs. I would rather pay $200 more for a longer layover and delay my arrival by several hours, than have a short layover. The fear of layovers dissipates once I board my flight, but kicks in again during the descent to meet my connecting flight. Oh, my stomach is in knots just thinking about a short layover. I get extreme anxiety including sweats, heart palpitations, diarrhea and sometimes vomiting during the “anticipation phase” of airport layovers.

Weirdly enough, I love flying.

Can you see my Irrational Fear Card clearly enough?

Do you have an Irrational Fear? I’d love to read about! Share with me in the comments or email me at mylifeofcards@yahoo.com

Seek out little pleasures, to obtain happiness you must.

5 Jul

Today is the first day without my bug. It started rather early when T’s alarm sounded for him to wake. I had every intention of falling right back asleep and taking full advantage of the morning silence.

I couldn’t.

I tried and tried. Tossed and turned, fluffed my pillows, sprawled out in the center of the bed….

Sleep did not come to me. All that came to me was a frown and the urge to climb into my little boy’s bed.

I fought this urge for a while, but the longing to smell the scent of my little guy was far too strong to resist. I made my way to his bed.

I laid there. Then, out of nowhere, I felt warm wet liquid on the sides of my face, my nose started running. What? No Lacey. Stop.

Yeah, I wept. I didn’t cry. I wept. These were tears of sorrow. Everything inside me wanted my little boy home in his bed.

Seriously, what is my problem? This is supposed to be a relaxing, month-long break from motherhood. I am supposed to be drinking a mimosa with breakfast, basking in the hot summer sunlight, reading books and foremost, SLEEPING. I miss sleeping so much. And yet, here I am. In my son’s bed, weeping on his pillow and longing to touch his cute flushed cheeks as he sleeps.

Oh how precious he looks when he sleeps…. My heart is cracking.

 

I finally got a grip on myself and decided to find a distraction. I put on some obnoxiously loud music and started cleaning. It was 7:55am and I was cleaning. SERIOUSLY LACE! YOU ARE PATHETIC.

I cleaned furiously. I sang loudly. I cried intermittently. I brewed a pot of Starbucks French Roast.

I went around scrubbing this, sweeping up that, putting away dishes, throwing laundry around all the while a perma-scowl invaded my should-be peaceful face. Boo. This month is gonna suck balls. Why did I think this month was going to be the best month of the year? I was utterly mistaken.

But as I pouted, the smell of my favorite Starbucks roast took over the house as I cleaned. I started taking deep breaths, drinking in the aroma. Mmm…time for a coffee break I thought. I took my coffee to the living room and started sipping. I continued to smell the beautiful dark roast glory, tasting the righteous nectar of the Caffeine Gods with each long and leisurely drink.

 

Wait a minute. This coffee is still hot and I’ve almost finished the cup. I smiled. I put my cup down on THE SEAT CUSHION of the couch. I got up to check the quiche in the oven. I came back, the cup hadn’t spilled. I picked it up, drank it. The last sip was still hot and filled with victory!

 

I miss my son and my heart is cracked. But my scowl is gone and I am on my third (uninterrupted) cup of Starbucks.

 

So it might be small but I have found something worth enjoying out of this whole separation.

 

DELICIOUS HOT COFFEE!

 

I’m hoping to find more little pleasures to enjoy in order to mask the sorrow of the biggest thing I enjoy being absent.

 

***I hope all my American friends enjoyed their Day of Independence yesterday. Mine was a mixed bag of balls, but the fireworks at Niagara Falls were breathtaking.***

 

Survivor: Female Prison Edition (More Pillow Talk)

3 Jul

Last nights pillow talk did not disappoint.

T: If I was convicted of a crime, would you wait for me?

Me: Depends on the crime and the length of sentence.

T: I got drunk and stole something from the convenience store. I’d get 30 days and probation.

Me: What a stupid crime. No I would not wait for you, on principal, I refuse to be married to a dumb criminal. Maybe if the crime was a bit more smart, and of course, non-violent.

T: Really? You would leave me?

Me: I can’t waste my time on stupidity, so yes.

T: Ok, what if it was something like murder or embezzlement, only I was truly innocent, and you knew it. But you’d have to wait 10 years?

Me: Hmmm… I don’t know. Maybe.

T: Maybe!?! Seriously?

Me: Geez don’t get all worked up. It’s only hypothetical.

T: I’d wait forever for you, Lace. (He really said this as sweet as you read it.) Or at least 10 years without question.

Me: That’s nice, hun.

(I think he was offended that I wouldn’t wait, but I don’t enjoy lying. Even hypothetical lies. They just don’t set well with me.)

Me: I think I could do hard time and fair pretty well.

T: Ya right. You’d be chewed up and spit out and be made someone’s bitch in no time flat. You’re too pretty and small.

Me: No, female prison would be cake. I’d approach it like an extended game of “Survivor”. I’d find a sexy, buff, well-feared butch to align myself with and manipulate all the others around me with my good looks and small stature. I would run the show in the end, my love. Because I am brilliant and cunning.

T: Seriously, Lace?

Me: Yes. People usually like me and lesbians love me, as you know. And honestly, it wouldn’t be difficult. So I’d have to wash my hands a lot, and probably need you to send me lotion. I would be fine. In fact, I’d be more than fine. Woman prison is far easier than man prison, ya know. I might even enjoy the sexual activity I’d have to dole out for my insured safety. Men on the other hand, well, they probably don’t enjoy the action because it hurts more and ….(he cuts me off)

T: Yes. I know why men dislike prison. But why would you have to wash your hands a lot? …. Oh, never mind.

Me: While out on bond, awaiting my sentencing, I’d get a couple of hardcore tattoos and some on my face for good measure. Just to look a bit more legit. Maybe I should just go all out with the tats and make my face look like a skull. I bet they would leave me alone then and I wouldn’t even have to play Survivor: Female Prison Edition.

T: Oh babe…

Me: And then when I get out, we’d need to book a couple of laser appointments.

T: Anything for you my love.

***The blog has been quiet because I’ve been soaking up time with my son. I have to say goodbye to his cute face tomorrow evening, and I am kind of a wreck about it. I was so excited to have this whole month to myself, but more and more I am realizing that it is his company that I treasure. No amount of peace and quiet could compare to the chaotic whirlwind of love and joy he brings about our home. It’s going to be a month of growth I fear…. Anyways, I did manage to compile a bunch of cards and will be writing and sharing them soon!***

Oh, I’d Smash Her Good!

19 Jun

I read a blog the other day that was talking about making dialogue flow when writing conversations between characters in a book. One of the suggestions was to go to a crowded place you don’t frequent and to listen to people’s conversations.

Well we went to a CFL game last week and let’s just say my anxiety was soaring. The sound was far too loud it put me on edge and there were tons of people. I was very uncomfortable. But I fought back and what helped me was remembering that blog, and the suggestion to listen to people. Although I didn’t need to practice writing dialogue, I did think that eavesdropping on people around me would be entertaining and a fun way to distract myself from the chaos. I totally invaded people’s privacy.

I started with the two teen boys sitting behind us. At first they were talking about their plans for the upcoming summer break and how glad they were to be done with classes soon along with teacher bashing. Then they drifted to girls they like. This was interesting. I was expecting to cringe, I was expecting dirty or crass content. But they surprised me.

One of the guys came out with a struggle he’s been having for a few months. “I really like her. She’s funny, smart and really sweet but she got fat this year. I mean, she has the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. I really like her, but you know how the guys would be…she’s fat now. I don’t know, maybe I’ll ask her out this summer and we can be active and hike and stuff….” He trailed off and his friend picked it up agreeing she was all those great things, but is in fact at least 20 pounds heavier than last year. They talk about her home life, and how she had to quit sports and maybe that all played a part of her weight gain.

It was nice to hear guys talk like this. They took it beyond surface and went deeper. It was nice to hear young men talk with feeling and be considerate of life circumstances, and not just judgmental, objectifying pigs.

And then, well, and then they went and ruined it.

The first guy- “Ya I think I will call her this summer. Maybe start flirting with her when no one is around, and then once school is out, I’ll make a move.”

Second dude- “Ya definitely. That could work. I mean, she does have a really pretty face. And if you can get her to work out with you, come next year at school she’d be frickin hot again.”

First guy- “Oh heck yes! I’d smash her good if she lost some weight. And since no one would really know but you this summer, I get some then too. Oh yeah, I’d smash that!”

Second guy- “Ya and since you’d be dating her while she was bigger, she’d give it up good…”

I tuned out. I was so disappointed. Way to crash and burn guys.

Furthermore, what in the world… Smash her? Seriously. You’d smash her good?  Who says “smash her”? Apparently the 5’8, 110 pound, 16 year old boy with the acne covered face and Darth Vader t-shirt behind me does.

I moved on to the young woman sitting beside me with her parents and a family friend, hoping for some better content. The young woman, around 28 or so, had just graduated law school with honours and was to be taking the bar exam next month.  She’s beautiful, successful and was wearing really cute shoes. Her voice was perfectly pitched with a slightly sexy rasp to it. She was slender, tall, with curly dirty blonde hair swept up into carefree cuteness. I stopped listening once I realized how utterly vapid she was…. (OK, or maybe I just got jealous. Maybe.)

Then I shifted my attention to the best pair ever. My hubby and son. They were the biggest aid in conquering my anxiety that night. And when I actually was able to watch the game, it turned out to be pretty cool.  GO TI-CATS!

…..Smash her? Seriously dude?

 

It’s amazing what you’ll hear when you take the time to listen. Or eavesdrop.

Our Kind of Pillow Talk

7 Jun

T and I have something special when it comes to communication. Our ability to converse spans over many subjects and nothing is off-limits. I find him to be the most stimulating conversationalist but for the sake of our marriage and happiness we avoid political debates, well, before bedtime at least.

Last night we watched an episode of House. At the end Wilson is getting a brain scan to determine if his tumor is operable. Of course there was a cliff hanger and we’ll find out tonight if Wilson is toast, but that ending stuck with me.

Subsequently, our pillow talk went a bit twisted. Instead of talking about the usual, like, current world issues, Dungeons and Dragons, T’s work, B’s future, our dreams and goals, how much I miss the energy drink Whoopass, what kind of superhero we would be…it drifted to Death with Dignity.

T and I have discussed our stance on Death with Dignity and although we both support that choice, we never took it deeper than that. Well, boy did we go deeper. Like 6 feet under.

I asked T if he would kill me if I was terminally ill, suffering immensely and unable to exercise Death with Dignity. Without hesitation, and kind of excitedly, he replied, “Oh yes!”

I have such a devoted husband.

It went further.

T-  “Heck, I’d decapitate you on the steps of Parliament!”

T- “Well I mean, if I wasn’t taking care of B. I wouldn’t risk going to prison if B was still in our care.”

Was that statement about B suppose to make this uneasy feeling dissipate?

Me- “Babe, that’s nice and all but I’d like to just OD on a lot of great pain killers. Ya know, without the bloody mess, TV crews and your imprisonment? Do you not remember what Death with Dignity is?”

He knew what it entailed. Apparently his willingness to decapitate me in public was supposed to prove to me the lengths he would go to ensure I suffered no longer. But it kind of  just creeped me out.

The conversation progressed after I turned out the lights.

T- “If you could choose a way to die, not by pills or decapitation (who chooses decapitation? Is that even on the table of chosen ways to die?) what would you choose?”

Me- “If I can’t have pills, I choose sudden impact.”

T- “So I would just wheel you off a cliff?”

Me- “What, wheel me?”

T- “Well, you’d free fall and just SMACK against the ground, dead. That’s a pretty good one hun.”

Me- “I wouldn’t need pushing, I’m not afraid to die. (Why does he want to be such an active part of my death?) What about jumping out of a plane together, except I don’t pull my parachute?”

T- “Well you could do that. I couldn’t go with you.” (T is afraid of heights)

I start laughing.

Me- “If you did want to kill yourself that way. I bet I would meet you upon landing and be pissed off that you pulled your parachute.”

This was funny. Probably because we were both tired and the conversation was morbid. But the idea of being upset that he was alive, saying goodbye to him “one last time” as we free-falled together and having to keep paying for jumps out of the plane, only for him to still be living at the end of it all…. It was just funny.

T- “I wonder if someone who was scared of heights had the choice to jump off a cliff or die a slow agonizing death, could commit suicide by jumping?”

We agreed T couldn’t and had another weird laugh about death.

Me- “So how would you want to go?”

T- “I’d like to go quickly.” (From previous conversations I knew his favorite form of capital punishment was death by firing squad, he reminded me though. And just so you know, I would prefer lethal injection. In case that knowledge is some time needed in the future.)

T- “A firing squad would be cool. Or a gun to the head, it’s all the same.”

Me- “Good to know hun, glad we discussed this. I’m getting tired…”

T- “We have the best bed time conversations, don’t we? I sure love you.”

Me- “Love you more.”

I gave him a kiss good night and something fell off his mustache, and onto my lip. It was salty, and small, and round. Yes, a booger.I had a mini freak out he just laughed. I got over it.

 

*I try to sleep. Several minutes pass and I just can’t help myself.*

Me- “Decapitate me on the steps of Parliament?!? I’m going to dream of you killing me.”

T- In his sweetest, nearly asleep voice, “Only because I love you so much.”

 

 

QUESTION PERIOD: What’s the strangest bedtime conversation topic you’ve enjoyed or endured? I’d love to hear about it!

 

Coffee Snob

23 May

We went grocery shopping last night. Amongst other staples, I needed coffee ASAP as I was completely out. The brand I usually get is the closest tasting to Starbucks that’s in my price range.  It’s not great, but good enough.

 

We made our way to the coffee isle. There was a sale on the Maxwell House brand. It was a whole $10 cheaper than what I usually buy. I hemmed and hawed, grabbed the darkest possible roast of Maxwell House, looked at it intently, put it back. Grabbed my usual, thought about it… Really, $10? How can I not buy Maxwell House? It just seemed so illogical at the time to buy my usual brand when something was so cheap. And it’s not like it was Instant Folgers or Tim Hortons…bleck!

T is looking at me like, “just pick one, it’s coffee”. He doesn’t understand. Every time I drink coffee other than Starbucks, a taste bud dies. Every morning my mouth holds a wake. He’ll never truly comprehend what I have given up in order to marry him….never.

I resolved to get Maxwell House with the idea that if I’m going to settle for sub-par coffee, I might as well save 10 dollars doing so. I hung my head as I walked back to the cart, I felt so defeated inside.

 

This morning arrives. I open the coffee. I am instantly assaulted with a miasma of disappointment. It smells like dirt and misfortune. Second, for a “Rich Dark Roast” it’s the color of terra-cotta. I was half-tempted to make tea and dump out the whole can, but I didn’t. This was about trying something new, and perhaps growing a little. I tried to be optimistic, really, I did try. I hesitantly loaded the grounds into the filter. I felt like I was abusing my poor Bunn. I made enough for 1 cup, and poured it into my favorite cup. I thought the cup may help up the enjoyment factor.

No, no, absolute NO! The first sip killed at least 3 taste buds, the second took out at least 5. Can’t do it, won’t do it, wouldn’t force this on my arch nemesis. OK, maybe I would… but not on anyone else.

I thought maybe if I doubled the amount of grounds it would produce something more palatable. I ran another cup through. No, worse. Oh balls.  How could it be worse?! All it did was enhance the taste of fresh death as it killed 6 more taste buds. I could not subject my mouth to this again. There was no hope for this coffee. No amount of cream or sugar would improve its bouquet or flavor.

I’m certain that if a unicorn appeared, serving me this cup of coffee from a tray it carried on its back, I would still be unable to drink it. (Honestly though, a unicorn would totally serve up something better than Maxwell House. Like magic guava juice or Starbucks with champagne bubbles.)

Down the drain it went along with my opportunity to grow.

 

I tried to settle and be content with my $10 of savings, but I couldn’t. I tried my very hardest to be optimistic but failure screamed down my throat as I swallowed. It burned my stomach lining with the acidity of mediocrity.

At least I can say I tried, and hey, it only cost me 4 bucks….

 

Question Period: Is there anything in your life you have to have?  We all have our “things”. Please Share!

Do It Right

18 May

I might be 25 but I can still be a bratty little sister.

November 2011:

My mom is visiting me in Canadaland for 2 weeks. My sister calls on Skype because she is frustrated with her weight loss. (Leah has been dropping the pounds and rocking it! So proud of you Leah!)

Leah: Momma, I’ve plateaued.

Mom: This is totally expected hun. You should change-up your diet and increase your exercise.

Leah: Yeah, I know. But I don’t know what else I can do, diet wise….

They go back and forth brainstorming. My mom continues to encourage Leah, she seems to be unresponsive and set on being pouty. (I’m such a little sister)

While Leah and mom are having this LONG discussion I become a wee-bit bored. I’m sitting across the room from my mom so Leah can not see me. I start mimicking my sister. I’m moving my hands as I imagine Leah is doing, moving my head back and forth while flapping my mouth. Our mom is trying her best to ignore me. She does this quite well but at times she is a bit delayed in responding to Leah. Over time, she begins to crack and starts struggling with her facial expression and forming sentences. SUCCESS! Leah catches on. She knows I am up to something.

Leah: Lacey, what are you doing? (she’s a little annoyed but mostly curious)

I move across the room and stand directly behind the laptop. Leah can hear me, but not see me.

Me: In a very serious voice I say, “Leah, I have an idea to help you conquer this plateau.”

Leah: “Yeah? What is it?”

The look on my moms face… she knows me too well. She knows I’m about to say something dripping of sarcasm and completely insensitive.  She knows I can not keep it in my head, it has to be released. Mom is now working on her facial expression. She’s preparing to stay straight-faced after whatever I deliver.

Me: Do it right. (I say this in an obviously sarcastic way with a titch of condescension)

Leah: WHAT!?

Me: (I slow it down real good) Do… It… Right.

Leah: Oh Lacey! (this is the response I get when Leah thinks I am funny, but also rude/annoying/vulgar/or generally inappropriate)

Our mom gives Leah her best “above it all” face to Leah trying her best to not react to what just happens. She totally fails though. She thinks I am hilarious. SUCCESS!

They continue on with other matters concerning Leah. Next up for discussion was what she should do with her hair. Color, Cut, Style… I take the opportunity to pester once more.

Me: Oooo! I know! This would be awesome! I don’t think you’ve ever done this before….

Leah and my mom are interested in my amazing light bulb.

Leah: What Lace? What ya thinking?

Me: How bout’ you do it right.

Leah hollers at me and my mom once again is trying to keep composed. Leah insists I show myself on Skype. I deny her this blessing. It’s way too much fun not being seen. She doesn’t see these things coming and it’s way too entertaining for me!

I got a few more “Do it right’s” in there before they FINALLY wrapped up their conversation. As they were saying goodbye she shouted, “Bye Butthead!” I replied “DO IT RIGHT! AND GOOD NIGHT!”

She cursed at me but I wasn’t quite sure what she said. I was however sure that she cursed with a smile, and that my readers, was a great example of “Doing It Right”.

This recount of me saying “Do it Right” was playful and completely in jest. I love my sister and I did (between being a sarcastic brat) offer up real ideas and solutions to her dilemmas that evening.

 

 

BUT  there have been so many instances where I encountered an absolute moron. It takes “filter overdrive” to prevent myself from blurting out in utter annoyance, “Do it right!”

I want to design a “Do It Right” ticket/citation of sorts. There would be boxes I can check next to moronic behaviour, or things that I generally see people doing wrong. There would be space on the back for specific write-ups with pointers, books, or other materials that could aid them. At the bottom it would have big letters reading DO IT RIGHT with my number to call if they need assistance figuring it out.