As the winds pick up, the temperature goes down, the sun sets earlier and my desire to wear boots heightens, there is no denying that Fall is upon us.
Sure, official fall does not begin the instant that long weekend is over, but it sure seems that way- doesn’t it?
So with this in mind- and since I plan to be MIA all weekend long- I bid a bittersweet adieu to one of the weirdest summers of my life.
Goodbye to buying, getting, gutting and then rebuilding my home. Now, it is over- I just live there. I come home to my husband or no one and gone are the days of post work popsicles sitting on boxes with my contractors. Hard to say I will miss this time as it succeeded in getting me super sick, making it so that every morning I have to blow my nose at least 5-6 times to get everything out of there that I have spent the night breathing in (oh, and what is up there is just f-ing gross) and causing me general displacement anxiety placated only by the notion that one day it would all be over.
Goodbye to my grandfather and a summer of spending extra time to make sure that we never missed a moment before we had none left to have. I cant elaborate on this one in a witty way because, truth be told, I don’t find any humor or anecdotal material in this at all.
Goodbye to my yearly battle with my stupid arms- this is a goodbye I am happy to say. My least favorite thing about summer is that you cant just wear regular clothes- you are just forced to dress with everything hanging out all summer long or risk overheating. I hate you tank tops, I hate you short dresses with no tights, I especially hate you, spaghetti straps and moreover I hate looking at other peoples strange summer wear- for example, jean skirts- not ok after you hit age 15, my aforementioned high waisted jean short disgust and hey dudes, you are no exempt from this either because REALLY what is the deal with cut off arm T shirts- that is just disgusting.
But shit, I didn’t get this far being a goodbye girl- so with that HELLO to so many wonderful fall things.
Hello house- because the nitty gritty is done and now I get to enjoy my beautiful backyard before the snow falls
Hello a million (exaggeration) wonderful celebrations! In the past week or so, 3 of our friends have gotten engaged coupled with a few more in the past few months- and I do love a good engagement party! Hello to my sister in law’s upcoming wedding and all the family fun that goes with it!!! (I swear I am not “Sucking up”- I know you read this blog but I would say it even if you didn’t).
Hello sweaters, dark colors and boots. Need I say any more.
Hello to the smell of cinnamon, pumpkins and pie
Oh hi apple picking
And Hey-o to the holidays coming up around the corner
Shout out to the wicked concert I am going to see in 2 weeks
Friday, August 31, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Ride on a camel.
So, the other day I went with my sister for our bi-annual sisters at Wonderland experience. Obvi by now you know that I love rides so I paid no mind to the yucky weather, the way my new bangs curled in the humidity generated by teenagers in heat, and the fact that I smelled like a dirty child amid even dirtier children. It was all glorious.
Now the perks to going in crap weather is that lines are minimal and while I wish (always) that I didn’t have to stand in line with anyone, being in a 2 minute line versus a regular 2 hour line is well worth the cost to get in- which, by the way, is so much less when you come at “twilight” times.
It was such a fun way to hang with my sister who, in but a few days heads back to Halifax for the rest of the year to finish school- she is a truly fantastic partner in ride crime and this only rivals her amazingness in shopping crime, but that is for another time.
And so, with her in mind, I am going to steal her thought of the night which was a commentary on Wonderland fashion. In itself, that line seems like an oxymoron as, if you have ever been to Wonderland, you know that fashion is- well, let’s say unusual at best.
And while there were the usual dudes with pants too low and girls with tops too high, it seems an epidemic has hit the 905 with a vengeance. I’m talking about high waisted jean shorts and the subsequent camel toe that comes with them.
So, thanks hipsters for making a fashion icon out of the labia. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see camel toe at every turn and now that I have, I am sure that I don’t ever want to again.
Here’s my thing, are you not uncomfortable in those shorts? I mean, for one, in life I cannot imagine walking around with ANY kind of wedgie on purpose and perpetually but on rides??? The mere thought of it just makes me want to barf and itch myself all at the same time- and on the semi moist rides last night courtesy of sweat and a bit of rain? *Shudder*
Anywho, peeps please. Just because something is trendy doesn’t mean it s good- ever heard of a little craze called bathsalts? Point proven. Please pull down your shorts for the love of your vg and proceed.
Thank you.
Other than our continual commentary on the choices made by the patrons of Wonderland (because cutting the arms off of your T shirt, dude with horrible BO, was a great idea- raise your arms a bit more -K???) Wonderland was a friggen blast. I ran around the park like a little monkey and got to try the Leviathan which was A-maze-balls.
That is all.
Now the perks to going in crap weather is that lines are minimal and while I wish (always) that I didn’t have to stand in line with anyone, being in a 2 minute line versus a regular 2 hour line is well worth the cost to get in- which, by the way, is so much less when you come at “twilight” times.
It was such a fun way to hang with my sister who, in but a few days heads back to Halifax for the rest of the year to finish school- she is a truly fantastic partner in ride crime and this only rivals her amazingness in shopping crime, but that is for another time.
And so, with her in mind, I am going to steal her thought of the night which was a commentary on Wonderland fashion. In itself, that line seems like an oxymoron as, if you have ever been to Wonderland, you know that fashion is- well, let’s say unusual at best.
And while there were the usual dudes with pants too low and girls with tops too high, it seems an epidemic has hit the 905 with a vengeance. I’m talking about high waisted jean shorts and the subsequent camel toe that comes with them.
So, thanks hipsters for making a fashion icon out of the labia. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see camel toe at every turn and now that I have, I am sure that I don’t ever want to again.
Here’s my thing, are you not uncomfortable in those shorts? I mean, for one, in life I cannot imagine walking around with ANY kind of wedgie on purpose and perpetually but on rides??? The mere thought of it just makes me want to barf and itch myself all at the same time- and on the semi moist rides last night courtesy of sweat and a bit of rain? *Shudder*
Anywho, peeps please. Just because something is trendy doesn’t mean it s good- ever heard of a little craze called bathsalts? Point proven. Please pull down your shorts for the love of your vg and proceed.
Thank you.
Other than our continual commentary on the choices made by the patrons of Wonderland (because cutting the arms off of your T shirt, dude with horrible BO, was a great idea- raise your arms a bit more -K???) Wonderland was a friggen blast. I ran around the park like a little monkey and got to try the Leviathan which was A-maze-balls.
That is all.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Here's to you
Happy Monday to you.
After a warm and wonderful weekend I was not even remiss to awake to grey skies and rain. Sure, it may impede on my plan to have a sisters day at Wonderland late this afternoon but no way that a few gloomy clouds can rain on my parade.
Why such positivity? 2 words. Great. Weekend.
My husband, as I mentioned last post, turned 30 and to celebrate, we had 3 days and nights of non-stop fun. He was overwhelmed and overjoyed by all the love in his life and I was overwhelmed and overjoyed to watch him be so happy.
Thursday night we had dinner with his parents at Joso’s.
Now, to begin, I have amazing in-laws. Going for dinner with them is not the obligatory burden that it is to most people and their parent in-laws. Mine is a treat and much more like dining with great friends. So that coupled with the fact that Joso’s is fricken amazing made for a truly great night. The food was from seafood heaven, the drinks were non stop and the playing of 50 cents “Go shorty” when they brought out the birthday cake was the cherry on the sundae.
Friday night my husband brought home the most recent addition to our family, one Large Green Egg. I could not even be mad with the fact that the chosen Egg size doubled from what we talked about originally getting as I don’t think I have ever seen my hubs so happy. It is entirely possible that one of these nights I will be banished to the guest room and the Egg will take my side of the bed.
Not too sure what the hell I am talking about? Well, to be honest, I am not too sure what this thing does either- alls I know is that it is a giant cast iron thing that can smoke, grill and otherwise cook meat at a crazy hot temperature over coals and such.
Alls I can tell you too is that while I spent hours on Sunday slaving over a shoe rack thingy from Ikea, hubs was lying in bed googling youtube videos of what the Green Egg can do.
Because other people actually make the videos that psychos like him watch in bed.
Just saying.
Right, so I totally joke but this egg was a lifesaver and fan favorite at our dinner smoking 2 wicked beer can chickens and perfectly cooking thick steaks to perfection. But the highlight of the night was watching my little nephew roll around on my cow hide rug and petting it. I swear that he must be the cutest boy in the world- I don’t even think I am biased when I say that- he is really just perfect.
So Saturday we spent the day in TB park which has become on of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday. The sun was shining, the hipsters hadn't yet emerged from their ironic breakfasts and the only people there at noon when we arrived were homeless folk and the cool/strange people who come alone to read a book. Soon enough we were surrounded by friends, dogs and even one of my other favorite little people, my best friend’s daughter.
Gotta say this; I think it is so awesome how much people love my hubs. I love watching it and seeing him in his zone.
We ended up having most of the park people back chez us for a late Saturday and then awoke to have brunch with our favorite person eves at this brand new place down the road from me. which, long-winded-ly, brings me to my rant.
So like I said, we made the choice to walk past our tried and true brunch spot and hit up a new place that opened a month ago down the road. I am never weary of new places and I have a lot of patience for the usual slip ups made while figuring out the kinks of running a new place. I will also say that the food at this place was F-ing amazing. They smoke their own bacon, the potatoes were outstanding and the sage sausage- also homemade was to die for- even the eggs were cooked to perfection and apparently the biscuit that I opted not to have was like sex in bread form. (mind you, since the ex I have successfully gained 4 pound in 4 days so perhaps raving over fatty meat and bread is out of line).
Anyways, we are 3 and we patiently await a table of four to sit at- we wait for 30 minutes, no problem and the owner who had forewarned us of an approximately 30 minute wait lets us know that 2 separate 2 person tables are about to be vacated and they will push them together and we can sit there. Whopee.
Enter an obese man with one of those terrible chin beards and full mat tits with his equally fat-ass wife who walks to the back of the restaurants and just sits his fat ass down at one of the 2 person tables we were waiting to have pushed together.
And of course, the owner didn’t catch him fast enough and then just felt to awkward to ask him to move so she instead asked us to cramp around a 2 person table and just squish. Hunger won over annoyance so we did- sitting our asses right down next to the fatty bombatty who didn’t even raise an eyebrow when I loudly voiced how hungry you must have to be to steal someone’s seat who you blatantly budded in line in front of.
I then watched him inhale an eggs benny and figured that cholesterol, not karma would take over from there.
Anyways, people, if you are at a resto and waiting for a table you are not allowed to just go in and TAKE a table away from you patient co-patrons. I don’t care if you are accustomed to eating whole animals smothered in lard by 8am and you are just famished- don’t care if you literally have to gnaw at your own hand to wave off the pangs of starvation. Don’t be a rude asshole just because you are miserable. Shit, join Jenny Craig homeboy.
Anyways- I got to take out my anger on the Ikea shoe shelf thing and then got to expend even more energy shopping with my mom while my hubs and dad went golfing. So lucky me, by the time I awoke this morning, memories of the bacon-ater were long gone and my only thoughts were how happy I am that my hubs enjoyed turning 30 as much as I did...6 months ago.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Robinson.
After a warm and wonderful weekend I was not even remiss to awake to grey skies and rain. Sure, it may impede on my plan to have a sisters day at Wonderland late this afternoon but no way that a few gloomy clouds can rain on my parade.
Why such positivity? 2 words. Great. Weekend.
My husband, as I mentioned last post, turned 30 and to celebrate, we had 3 days and nights of non-stop fun. He was overwhelmed and overjoyed by all the love in his life and I was overwhelmed and overjoyed to watch him be so happy.
Thursday night we had dinner with his parents at Joso’s.
Now, to begin, I have amazing in-laws. Going for dinner with them is not the obligatory burden that it is to most people and their parent in-laws. Mine is a treat and much more like dining with great friends. So that coupled with the fact that Joso’s is fricken amazing made for a truly great night. The food was from seafood heaven, the drinks were non stop and the playing of 50 cents “Go shorty” when they brought out the birthday cake was the cherry on the sundae.
Friday night my husband brought home the most recent addition to our family, one Large Green Egg. I could not even be mad with the fact that the chosen Egg size doubled from what we talked about originally getting as I don’t think I have ever seen my hubs so happy. It is entirely possible that one of these nights I will be banished to the guest room and the Egg will take my side of the bed.
Not too sure what the hell I am talking about? Well, to be honest, I am not too sure what this thing does either- alls I know is that it is a giant cast iron thing that can smoke, grill and otherwise cook meat at a crazy hot temperature over coals and such.
Alls I can tell you too is that while I spent hours on Sunday slaving over a shoe rack thingy from Ikea, hubs was lying in bed googling youtube videos of what the Green Egg can do.
Because other people actually make the videos that psychos like him watch in bed.
Just saying.
Right, so I totally joke but this egg was a lifesaver and fan favorite at our dinner smoking 2 wicked beer can chickens and perfectly cooking thick steaks to perfection. But the highlight of the night was watching my little nephew roll around on my cow hide rug and petting it. I swear that he must be the cutest boy in the world- I don’t even think I am biased when I say that- he is really just perfect.
So Saturday we spent the day in TB park which has become on of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday. The sun was shining, the hipsters hadn't yet emerged from their ironic breakfasts and the only people there at noon when we arrived were homeless folk and the cool/strange people who come alone to read a book. Soon enough we were surrounded by friends, dogs and even one of my other favorite little people, my best friend’s daughter.
Gotta say this; I think it is so awesome how much people love my hubs. I love watching it and seeing him in his zone.
We ended up having most of the park people back chez us for a late Saturday and then awoke to have brunch with our favorite person eves at this brand new place down the road from me. which, long-winded-ly, brings me to my rant.
So like I said, we made the choice to walk past our tried and true brunch spot and hit up a new place that opened a month ago down the road. I am never weary of new places and I have a lot of patience for the usual slip ups made while figuring out the kinks of running a new place. I will also say that the food at this place was F-ing amazing. They smoke their own bacon, the potatoes were outstanding and the sage sausage- also homemade was to die for- even the eggs were cooked to perfection and apparently the biscuit that I opted not to have was like sex in bread form. (mind you, since the ex I have successfully gained 4 pound in 4 days so perhaps raving over fatty meat and bread is out of line).
Anyways, we are 3 and we patiently await a table of four to sit at- we wait for 30 minutes, no problem and the owner who had forewarned us of an approximately 30 minute wait lets us know that 2 separate 2 person tables are about to be vacated and they will push them together and we can sit there. Whopee.
Enter an obese man with one of those terrible chin beards and full mat tits with his equally fat-ass wife who walks to the back of the restaurants and just sits his fat ass down at one of the 2 person tables we were waiting to have pushed together.
And of course, the owner didn’t catch him fast enough and then just felt to awkward to ask him to move so she instead asked us to cramp around a 2 person table and just squish. Hunger won over annoyance so we did- sitting our asses right down next to the fatty bombatty who didn’t even raise an eyebrow when I loudly voiced how hungry you must have to be to steal someone’s seat who you blatantly budded in line in front of.
I then watched him inhale an eggs benny and figured that cholesterol, not karma would take over from there.
Anyways, people, if you are at a resto and waiting for a table you are not allowed to just go in and TAKE a table away from you patient co-patrons. I don’t care if you are accustomed to eating whole animals smothered in lard by 8am and you are just famished- don’t care if you literally have to gnaw at your own hand to wave off the pangs of starvation. Don’t be a rude asshole just because you are miserable. Shit, join Jenny Craig homeboy.
Anyways- I got to take out my anger on the Ikea shoe shelf thing and then got to expend even more energy shopping with my mom while my hubs and dad went golfing. So lucky me, by the time I awoke this morning, memories of the bacon-ater were long gone and my only thoughts were how happy I am that my hubs enjoyed turning 30 as much as I did...6 months ago.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Robinson.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Happy Birthday to my Hubby- ringing in 30
Last night, after darting home from work to finish painting the kitchen and raking the backyard, I dragged my tired hubs out to the ex with 2 of our friends. The purpose of this outing was to kick off my hubby’s 30th birthday- which is today- and yes, you are now old my love, Happy Birthday to you!
So, the ex was bumping with the usual mix of Toronto-ites and others and ripe with the smell of dirty children, tobacco and a little splash of vomit for good measure.
One thing you should already be able to guess about me is that I love the ex. Whoa Nelly do I love the ex. Something about Carnies and cotton candy and rides that would not be at all scary except that they are being help up on single planks of wood and carabineers just makes me happy.
We began the night with dinner, and when I say dinner I actually mean the dirtiest more gluttonous indulgence in food I think I have ever had in my entire life which, in hindsight was not the best idea to shovel into my face before going on above noted nauseating rides.
Here’s how shiz went down:
Bacon poutine with extra bacon was our first course followed by the fried blooming onion- as the name suggests it is a deep fried onion that they slice up to make it look like a lotus flower and taste like a slice of greasy heaven. Then we had Far East Taco- a wicked blend of Korean and Mexican flavors in a sweet ass corn taco. At this point, despite sharing all the aforementioned foods, I was about done but little did I know that I hate entered the pavilion of food with down-right eating champs because along I was dragged to the Mac and Cheese booth to try my first deep fried Mac and Cheese- deep fried Mac and Cheese is like everything you ever dream in carb-land but that being said I had total food envy (if that was possible at that point while feeling lie Shamu) of the people beside me eating good old fashioned Mac and Cheese- un-deep fried. Chronic.
Then, when I thought there was no possible way I could stand being in the food building for another second I was pulled to a booth where they serve stuff in cones- the options were endless, shepherds pie in a cone, pizza in a cone and then, there was what my CNE mates decided to get- bacon and Nutella in a cone grilled and smothered in Nutella. I had 2 bites of this delicious concoction as it was tough and gross to share. We got Apple Cinnamon Tiny Tim doughnuts and finished off the mission to make me fat with deep fried fudge.
I have to say this- I feel gross and ashamed to have eaten such dirty food BUT, if you have the chance to eat the deep friend fudge I implore you to do it. That was, by far, the best thing I have ever eaten ever.
Unfazed by my fullness I demanded it to be ride time so off we went to face the hot mess that is the midway. Now here is the problem with going to the ex with 2 boys- games. I am totally down for a ring toss or 2 but after that I feel like I am just about done breaking plates with balls for 4 dollars a pop. But of course, men and their egos cant be stopped by a nagging wife who just wants to spin till she pukes so we spent another hour playing water gun shooting games, ring toss games, ball games, bowling games... In the meantime, my hubs was not winning a thing and we watched as our friends BF loaded her up with monkeys and smurfs galore (obvi later in the night my hubs HAD to go back tot the games and win me a Banana- it is the best banana in the world- thank you my love)
My favorite part of the Ex, as I mentioned is the super unsafe rides- I dragged everyone aboard this Swing of the century esque ride that brings you up high in the air and effectively made friend #1 sick, then we went on a roller coaster which effectively made friend #1 and 2 sick- then, the coo of the night was going on the is flippy ride that spins you in a strobe light and flings you upside down- effectively made my husband nauseous too. At this point no one would do any more rides so we had to call it a night and head home where I had to shower off the smell of Carnival and greet the onset of hubs 30th birthday at midnight!
I am very excited to enjoy some great celebrations of the best person in the whole world who was such a great ride partner with.
LOVE YOU!!!!
So, the ex was bumping with the usual mix of Toronto-ites and others and ripe with the smell of dirty children, tobacco and a little splash of vomit for good measure.
One thing you should already be able to guess about me is that I love the ex. Whoa Nelly do I love the ex. Something about Carnies and cotton candy and rides that would not be at all scary except that they are being help up on single planks of wood and carabineers just makes me happy.
We began the night with dinner, and when I say dinner I actually mean the dirtiest more gluttonous indulgence in food I think I have ever had in my entire life which, in hindsight was not the best idea to shovel into my face before going on above noted nauseating rides.
Here’s how shiz went down:
Bacon poutine with extra bacon was our first course followed by the fried blooming onion- as the name suggests it is a deep fried onion that they slice up to make it look like a lotus flower and taste like a slice of greasy heaven. Then we had Far East Taco- a wicked blend of Korean and Mexican flavors in a sweet ass corn taco. At this point, despite sharing all the aforementioned foods, I was about done but little did I know that I hate entered the pavilion of food with down-right eating champs because along I was dragged to the Mac and Cheese booth to try my first deep fried Mac and Cheese- deep fried Mac and Cheese is like everything you ever dream in carb-land but that being said I had total food envy (if that was possible at that point while feeling lie Shamu) of the people beside me eating good old fashioned Mac and Cheese- un-deep fried. Chronic.
Then, when I thought there was no possible way I could stand being in the food building for another second I was pulled to a booth where they serve stuff in cones- the options were endless, shepherds pie in a cone, pizza in a cone and then, there was what my CNE mates decided to get- bacon and Nutella in a cone grilled and smothered in Nutella. I had 2 bites of this delicious concoction as it was tough and gross to share. We got Apple Cinnamon Tiny Tim doughnuts and finished off the mission to make me fat with deep fried fudge.
I have to say this- I feel gross and ashamed to have eaten such dirty food BUT, if you have the chance to eat the deep friend fudge I implore you to do it. That was, by far, the best thing I have ever eaten ever.
Unfazed by my fullness I demanded it to be ride time so off we went to face the hot mess that is the midway. Now here is the problem with going to the ex with 2 boys- games. I am totally down for a ring toss or 2 but after that I feel like I am just about done breaking plates with balls for 4 dollars a pop. But of course, men and their egos cant be stopped by a nagging wife who just wants to spin till she pukes so we spent another hour playing water gun shooting games, ring toss games, ball games, bowling games... In the meantime, my hubs was not winning a thing and we watched as our friends BF loaded her up with monkeys and smurfs galore (obvi later in the night my hubs HAD to go back tot the games and win me a Banana- it is the best banana in the world- thank you my love)
My favorite part of the Ex, as I mentioned is the super unsafe rides- I dragged everyone aboard this Swing of the century esque ride that brings you up high in the air and effectively made friend #1 sick, then we went on a roller coaster which effectively made friend #1 and 2 sick- then, the coo of the night was going on the is flippy ride that spins you in a strobe light and flings you upside down- effectively made my husband nauseous too. At this point no one would do any more rides so we had to call it a night and head home where I had to shower off the smell of Carnival and greet the onset of hubs 30th birthday at midnight!
I am very excited to enjoy some great celebrations of the best person in the whole world who was such a great ride partner with.
LOVE YOU!!!!
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
A lesson on handwashing
Goodmorning readers.
After a sad week gone by saying goodbye to my grandfather and spending time with family I am back.
On Sunday, which marked the end of the week of mourning, I cut some bangs (which I have been wanting for a long ass time now) and I feel somehow refreshed and new. New chapter, new look.
Anywho, this morning I left my house super early for a work thing and had an even sparser subway train than usual- I could have laid out if I had wanted to!
And this brings me to my point for today which was conceived aboard the rocket.
I have always believed that a bit of dirt was healthy for people to come into contact with. That is would make you more resilient to bacteria and other germs. That touching things, such as subway poles with your bare hands yielded an overall sense of better health.
Well thank you to the dirty mumbling homeless man on my train today for teaching me that sometimes, I can be wrong.
As I sat on the train, minding my own business I noticed this man pacing up and down the aisles, saying incoherent things to himself as he f-ing picked the shit out of his nose and proceeded to touch every single rail and pole he passed by.
I'm not talking about the old swipe into your nose to free a buger either- I am talking FULL ON, multi finger nose picking and subsequent wiping each finger on various parts of the train.
Well could you not just puke.
I have remained blissfully ignorant of what these poles and seats have seen before the time where I make contact with them- and sure, the guy holding the pole before me could have had his hands on his junk just prior, but it is one of those “out of sight out of mind” mentalities that allows me to embrace the pole with no second thoughts.
How can I ever do this again? How can I sturdy myself to not clamber into my fellow riders knowing full well that there are dirty nose pickings somewhere in some subway car in this city?
Well friends, lesson learned, lesson learned.
After a sad week gone by saying goodbye to my grandfather and spending time with family I am back.
On Sunday, which marked the end of the week of mourning, I cut some bangs (which I have been wanting for a long ass time now) and I feel somehow refreshed and new. New chapter, new look.
Anywho, this morning I left my house super early for a work thing and had an even sparser subway train than usual- I could have laid out if I had wanted to!
And this brings me to my point for today which was conceived aboard the rocket.
I have always believed that a bit of dirt was healthy for people to come into contact with. That is would make you more resilient to bacteria and other germs. That touching things, such as subway poles with your bare hands yielded an overall sense of better health.
Well thank you to the dirty mumbling homeless man on my train today for teaching me that sometimes, I can be wrong.
As I sat on the train, minding my own business I noticed this man pacing up and down the aisles, saying incoherent things to himself as he f-ing picked the shit out of his nose and proceeded to touch every single rail and pole he passed by.
I'm not talking about the old swipe into your nose to free a buger either- I am talking FULL ON, multi finger nose picking and subsequent wiping each finger on various parts of the train.
Well could you not just puke.
I have remained blissfully ignorant of what these poles and seats have seen before the time where I make contact with them- and sure, the guy holding the pole before me could have had his hands on his junk just prior, but it is one of those “out of sight out of mind” mentalities that allows me to embrace the pole with no second thoughts.
How can I ever do this again? How can I sturdy myself to not clamber into my fellow riders knowing full well that there are dirty nose pickings somewhere in some subway car in this city?
Well friends, lesson learned, lesson learned.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Circle of life (to the tune of the Lion King)
Hi folks,
You will pardon my sad post and lack of posts in the last few weeks but I had the unfortunate news that my grandfather passed away on Monday morning and with that came all the craziness and grief that surrounds a funeral.
It has not been fun to deal with watching him die for the past few weeks and in fact has been one of the most eye opening and deep things I have had to experience in a long time.
In times like these you are just forced to reflect on what is important to you and what is meaningful because I can tell you this much, if something in your life is bullshit, it is super hard to care about it when you have so much else happening. Does that make sense? Just puts things into perspective, I guess.
It makes the cop who pulled me and my husband over last week and was super annoying less worthy to rant about and our subsequent ticket less worrisome- makes the crackhead on the bus with me that I was certain was going to follow me home and bite off my face more tolerable. And this is not to say I will not be back with a vengeance ranting about all these seemingly less important things- just for right now, right here it is good for me to get out of my head in that way and look at what is real.
I can say this with confidence: I have wonderful caring friends and family. Forget that I have not had a kitchen to eat in for WEEKS and I have had such kind and generous visitors and people who offered their help and home cooked meals- that alone really showed me how loved we are- I am especially grateful to the support I have felt while dealing with the past 2 weeks specifically. I know that everyone has their own shit to deal with but I will never forget how kind and thoughtful my friends have been in being in touch consistently to just ask “how are you”.
At the funeral, we got a pretty large turnout of people coming to pay their respects to a man who has had 98 years of connecting with and impacting people in his journey. I watched the room fill up full of his peers and family, of my parents friends, all of whom had a story or 2 to share about my grandfather. Even my own friends and family and my husbands friends and family showed up. My parents and grandparents have set the bar high at how to be a friend and how to keep a friend and I was in awe to see a room of people who made my family their priority on a rainy Tuesday afternoon and have made the extra effort to be friends for this whole sad time.
You know I am not one for too much serious ness but when I looked around my parents home after the ceremony and was surrounded by my oldest friends, new friends, and others. I felt like maybe death is a good way of reminding those who the deceased leaves behind that there is also life, and it can be really beautiful.
You will pardon my sad post and lack of posts in the last few weeks but I had the unfortunate news that my grandfather passed away on Monday morning and with that came all the craziness and grief that surrounds a funeral.
It has not been fun to deal with watching him die for the past few weeks and in fact has been one of the most eye opening and deep things I have had to experience in a long time.
In times like these you are just forced to reflect on what is important to you and what is meaningful because I can tell you this much, if something in your life is bullshit, it is super hard to care about it when you have so much else happening. Does that make sense? Just puts things into perspective, I guess.
It makes the cop who pulled me and my husband over last week and was super annoying less worthy to rant about and our subsequent ticket less worrisome- makes the crackhead on the bus with me that I was certain was going to follow me home and bite off my face more tolerable. And this is not to say I will not be back with a vengeance ranting about all these seemingly less important things- just for right now, right here it is good for me to get out of my head in that way and look at what is real.
I can say this with confidence: I have wonderful caring friends and family. Forget that I have not had a kitchen to eat in for WEEKS and I have had such kind and generous visitors and people who offered their help and home cooked meals- that alone really showed me how loved we are- I am especially grateful to the support I have felt while dealing with the past 2 weeks specifically. I know that everyone has their own shit to deal with but I will never forget how kind and thoughtful my friends have been in being in touch consistently to just ask “how are you”.
At the funeral, we got a pretty large turnout of people coming to pay their respects to a man who has had 98 years of connecting with and impacting people in his journey. I watched the room fill up full of his peers and family, of my parents friends, all of whom had a story or 2 to share about my grandfather. Even my own friends and family and my husbands friends and family showed up. My parents and grandparents have set the bar high at how to be a friend and how to keep a friend and I was in awe to see a room of people who made my family their priority on a rainy Tuesday afternoon and have made the extra effort to be friends for this whole sad time.
You know I am not one for too much serious ness but when I looked around my parents home after the ceremony and was surrounded by my oldest friends, new friends, and others. I felt like maybe death is a good way of reminding those who the deceased leaves behind that there is also life, and it can be really beautiful.
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