Merry Christmas

Something has been on my mind for a few weeks, and the closer we get to Christmas, the bigger it is and the more it is on my mind.

I am probably not going to make any friends by writing this, but what the hell, I have been losing friends left and right lately, so really it makes no difference, even in this festive season that some of us celebrate.... but I digress.....

I was at the mall today, I picked up a couple of things for some loved ones and saw many things that I would have loved to get for those closest to me.... it occurred to me that Christmas, and what it really began as, has changed drastically...

I see people post on facebook and on blogs, on comments and in email that it is Christmas and here in Canada, we celebrate Christmas.  I see a lot of disgruntled comments about not being able to say the words `Merry Christmas``... but I don`t get it... I mean, ok, I am as intolerant to change as the next person, straight up, I don`t want to be immersed in anyone else`s culture, and sometimes, other people`s cultures and beliefs just plain piss me off, but they are those people`s beliefs, so they are free to have them whether I like it or nor makes no difference....  I say Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays or have a nice day.... I get a little more emotional than most of the year and I miss having a family to celebrate...  I miss my dad who died in December from Cancer... the big C.... I miss my baby sister, December 17 is the 15th anniversary of the day she committed suicide... I miss her... I wish she was here, but sometimes I don`t.... but what I don`t miss, is something that I don`t understand people saying...

I don`t miss Christmas, because it is HERE, Now... and it is real.  In the T&T market, a market that caters to the Asian and South Asian communities has decorations up.  They have Christmas trees, the staff has a bit more of a smile when they say hello, as they do their job and live their lives.  All the customer service Reps are wearing Santa Hats and there is tinsel garland everywhere.  Further in the mall more decorations, more items that signify Chrismas... Restaurant owners have paid people to pain festive decor on the windows, sales are everywhere, I hear Christmas music everywhere, so where, dear people, has Christmas been forgotten and if it has been pushed aside, where is the proof?  Why are people so quick to say we can't say Merry Christmas?  Am I really the only Christmas celebrating Christian who doesn't feel that Christmas has been some how stolen from us?  Christmas is everywhere, in stores, on tv, at theatres, in our hearts... If Christmas isn't what it was, if it has lost it's meaning it is on the shoulders of all of us... many of us are the people who profess that Politics say we can't say Merry Christmas...We have given up the actual meaning of Christmas so that we can buy buy buy, give give give, as though that makes us better people... Santa isn't the sign of Christianity, but it represents what we, as Canadians, have adapted to be "Christmas".

God, said to love our neighbors, to not judge, and yet here we are, all up in arms about the term, when it is simply two words...

I am not sitting on some high horse, thinking I am better than anyone else just because I don't agree that other cultures have abolished Christmas, it is a simple fact... Christmas is everywhere....

To everyone, I want to wish a very Merry Christmas, a Happy Kwanzaa, a Happy Hanuka, Happy Holidays, Season`s Greetings, or whatever wish will bring you joy and peace... yes, I wish it for you, because if it makes you smile, and feel good, that is what I set out to do.  If I offend you by wishing you a Merry Christmas, I thank you for tolerating my holiday as I celebrate it.  I thank you for taking part and watching as we spend all our money to buy gifts that possibly will be forgotten, not live up to the expectations that the receiver had.  I thank you for humouring me as I sing my Christmas songs at the top of my lungs in my car and in your store.  I thank you for adopting some of the Season`s spirit and smiling my way while I shop through the hell that is Walmart and I thank you for your contribution to this society.

ANOTHER CHILD IS DEAD!

Tears are literally streaming down my face....

Raising children is so tough, knowing that one day, you may look back and say "where did I go wrong?".

My heart goes out to the parents of these children who are taking their own lives.... Words escape me, I want to tell them all, I want to show them all, I want to speak to them all.... please, for the love of all that is real, DON'T do this?!?!?!?!

What is wrong with our society?  where have we gone wrong, how have we failed these children?  I shake my head at the futility of it all... looking at these beautiful boys and girls who's lives are JUST BEGINNING... I ache to tell them, what I don't know....

15 years old... my daughter is almost that age.... she suffers from bullying, has been guilty of doing it to others...

Why don't these kids see what this is doing?  I am a TOTAL STRANGER, and yet I feel so bad for these kids.... is it me?  Is this current rash of suicides unusual or is it because of the internet and so our ability to hear about it almost instantly?  What is wrong with our society that we are allowing this behavior from our children, not teachign them to speak kindly, or the weight of the words they spew at each other?  Have we stopped being able to convey empathy to the next generation?

Complaint department closed

So today I am sick.  And in my sickness I feel like shit.  Seriously, I hate being sick, I feel like I am too hot and too cold, dry yet wet all at the same time.  I feel a chill coming in waves over my body and I just want to get under my nice fleece sheets and stay there for a few more days…. God being sick is a bitch.

This cold/flu/hell that I have currently started with a 2 day headache… I seriously thought that my headband was on too tight… I had no clue where this killer headache came from, perhaps from staring at the computer screen too long???  No no, I wake up Thursday thinking that I felt yucky but did my usual, got ready for work, dropped the evils off at their designated places and then came into work…. Bossman listened for 5 minutes and told me to go home… In some ways this is SPECTACULAR, in others not so much…. Sick… go home!  Yay, cuz I can be sick and miserable at home…. Shitty cuz I don’t get paid sick days… I can work extra hours to earn the time back or take it out of my vacation time, but I REALLY want to go to Mexico for my birthday….

I spent the majority of 4 days in bed… if you knew me you would know that that is a shitty thing for me…. First off, I don’t like laying around cuz it hurts my back, but also, I don’t like laying around because, simply put, that is just plain lazy…. But I was determined!  I had a Halloween party to go to on Saturday night and come hell or high water, I was going to attend… and attend I did.. while sick… no drinking, was tired, but so glad I went… until the next morning when my cold/flu/hell got WORSE… how can that be!?!?!?!  I spent days in bed!  This was so not fair… so back to the sick bed for me yesterday and had to return to work today….and I feel so yucky.

On a positive note… His majesty MAY agree to foster care!!!  This is great!  I suppose having pneumonia and not knowing if he had a place to sleep struck home.  Having another asshole guy (who is now grown) tell him to agree helped for sure.. But I THINK I convinced him all by myself!  Oh, to have the ability to know every day where my kid is… that would be spectacular!

Back in time

Today I read in the paper that a man was found dead, in a hoarder's house... they suspect that the man lived there, that it was his home though the city thought it was uninhabited.... 

It brought back so many memories.... people were saying that there was too much stuff to save the man, that they could hear him screaming for help but no one could get in... this made me sad, thinking of my mother... thinking of the child I was, rather than the child I pretended.... which got me thinking about what it was like in there....

I arrived at 1209 early in the day, it seem so dilapidated, the cream colour paint peeling, the brown missing in so many places the bare wood beneath it peeking through. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the pitiful little pear tree in the yard, the wild grass on the lawn looks as though someone once tried to cut it but it has become so overgrown it could have just been trampled by one of the half dozen or so kids hanging around. The blue tape on the front room window has been pulled off and replaced several times it's end flapping in the wind. As I begin walking up the gravel and rock driveway toward the make shift fence I see further damage to the house, the windows need a good cleaning. There is an old blue and silver station wagon filled with boxes and other items I dare not guess what they are. On the left there used to be a garden, the morning glories have grown so wild they choked the life out of anything else brave enough to attempt to grow. Behind the station wagon is a big garage that looks as though it was once a barn.

I'll tell you a secret. I don't want you to come to my house. I don't want you to come in, to have a peek of my home. I would rather go to your house, would that be ok with you? I like the way your mom makes cookies, how your house smells like lemons and pine sol. When I walk in your house, I am afraid to touch anything in case I break it, or mess it up or rub dirt on it. I will be on my best behaviour, show your parents that I am a sweet girl, a girl who tries and just needs someone who cares. I want to escape from my house. Is there any way that I can come over and maybe stay the night? No, I can't stay the night, then you might find out, might find out another secret that will take years for me to admit to anyone outside my family, but oh I want to, to have dinner at your table, to listen to your family share their lives with each other. At my house it's different.

I don't know if the home I remember is the home in which I was raised. I don't know if we really had to live like that.

When you walk in you will see my shame, I know you know, but if you don't come in then you won't know just how it is. Yes, yes that's my mom, please don't tell anyone you saw her. Oh lord, how do I go to school tomorrow, why can't she stop..... There are fleas, lots of them, there are other bugs too. Bugs scare me, things that go bump scare me, because I know what that skittering sound means. The dog is in the house, no, she doesn't come outside often, I don't know why. You could have come over before he left, when things were normal. The kitchen table was once a place that you could sit, we used to sit there and eat pea soup. I hate pea soup.

The first sense needed for this journey is that of smell. Go into your room, sit down and close your eyes. Now that you are there, you begin to notice a slight funky smell, the smell of sweat. Add to that the tang of urine, now the unmistakable stench of dog shit. Smell some curdled milk, the musk of mould on something wet. Keep your eyes closed and add sound. As your face scrunches up from the smell concentrate on the sound of your heart beat, and now your breathing. The buzzing sound in your mind isn't your breathing, it is the minute sound of a fruit fly, add another and another, add twenty flies, now do you hear it? Open your eyes, the sun is shining through the windows on the wall on your right. Turn to your right, a mustard yellow fridge , silver handle that makes the freezer look as though it is all one door, splashes of something on the front in the corner opposite you, then the windows, there are three in total, side by side, the kind of windows that open upwards. One of the windows has a board propping it open a little for the cats. You can see the plastic that was put on the outside two years ago swinging in the wind while the vacuum plastic inside is ripped in several places, the sills full of various things from plants to food containers, cat hair coating everything from the window. Turn further, see the sink full of dishes. There are dishes in a big round plastic “dishwasher” that has to be hand cranked. The dishes are all made of some kind of hard plastic substance. There is water in both sinks, something blocking the drain in one so that they both get plugged. The counter top is covered with more dishes, food in various stages of spoiling sticking them together. The cupboards are a cream color but are so dirty that they look like they ended up in the wrong end of a food fight. In the middle of the room is a 6 seat table, the surface of which is covered with pots and pans, plates, food in containers, the buzzing is coming from somewhere above, several sticky fly tapes weave in the breeze, the flies buzz as they try to escape eminent death. Walk a little further into the room, come closer to the table and see what is in this pot. I think it once was oatmeal but i don't know. Look closer, did you see that? See the oatmeal moving? Hold on, let me grab this spoon and pull back the top layer of oatmeal, see the eyes of the maggots as they writhe around in their home, you didn’t know that maggots moved like that did you? Directly across from you on the left side wall are still more cupboards and somewhere beneath the dishes, beneath the garbage there is a counter top, I think it used to be brown but I can’t be sure. There is an old stove next, brown and shiny. The oven is above the range, it doesn’t work anymore, I don’t remember when last it did. The range can be pushed in and pulled out but the sticky food on the surface has prevented it from going all the way in or all the way out leaving the two back burners almost touching the dials. There are pots on the range too, a pressure cooker once used for cooking, the contents trapped inside, the top gasket flew off one day hitting the ceiling, the pot too hot to touch was left there, the food by now inedible. Next to the range is the microwave, big in size, the timer must be turned past 20 to start the actual cooking. Mom built that little shelf next to it, the one where the deep fryer sits, the oil has been spilled many times, grease congealing on the wall and everything beneath it, splashing down the side of the old brown microwave. Below the deep fryer where the oil has spilled used to be where the cat litter box was, then, when Marmalade had her babies, we moved the box and she had her kittens there, they died from the fleas but the make shift bed still remains now covered in old, used oil. The deep fryer has seen better days, food and oil have been heated onto it. You can’t see it from this angle but the fryer used to be stainless steel. We recycle that oil, never replacing it until it is spilled down the wall, everything cooked in it has a slight burnt taste to it. Turn past the doorway, past the piles and pile of items in the room that once was the den. As you turn you might be able to see all the shelves that mom built to hold the books, once the room was quite nice. The last wall holds another mom-built shelf, this one holds the coffee maker. She took apart two coffee makers to put a timer on this one so that her coffee is made at a certain time. The coffee in the bottom of the pot will be recycled, it re-heats well she says. Mom’s bed is beneath the coffee maker, having run out of room in her room, unable to get into her bed she has moved first to the den and then the living room, but once out of room there, she now resides in the kitchen. Her bed is covered in things, so many things, garbage, cigarettes, clothes, toys, books, coffee cups, plates, there is only enough room on the cot for her body if she sleeps on her side.

If you turn just a little further you can see the living room, the TV on the far wall and the door in the corner….watch where you step as you make your way out, please don’t tell anyone, I understand that you don’t want to come back, neither do I.

Terrace

Well, I made it through the night. DM and I had a great time driving back from the house at the end of the road that goes on forever... beautiful house for sure, but further from civilization we couldn't have been... yet it was still here in Terrace... go fig.

the show last night wasn't as good as the one Friday night, but I had a blast... it might have been the drinks.... it might have been the weed... it might have been the company...

Having a hotel room to myself has it's pluses for sure, nobody cares that I snore, nobody cares that i took my shirt off while I was sleeping....it was a glorious night and I lived....:)

I go home today, part of me is happy, but part of me is saddened, this has been so surreal, being out here is nothing, but traveling for comedy, that is kick ass.  i am not sure I can see doing it full time, and DM said 15,000 would be about average per year if I were to stay in Van and do comedy, which has gotten me thinking... I could feasibly go to school full time, work part time and do comedy part time... I would clear an income, and it would still free me up for school......for both homework and schoolwork.... this is sounding more and more positive....

left the girl home this weekend... really wrestled with it, but she has done well, I have talked to her many times, messaged her and checked on her through the neighbor, it seems she has done a great job!!

I am being picked up around noon to go the airport, but I think I may just call and ask to be picked up a little early so I can go to Tim Hortons and get coffee and breakfast...

It was great earning this money... aside from munchies at Macs, I haven`t spent any money....; oh, wait, I did, I bought stuff for the kids and girlfriend...they better like this stuff....

Well, I better get my stuff done to get ready to go.

travelling the interior

I guess it is more the coast, it's fricken cold here...

Last night's show was a blast, great people in that sleepy little fish town.  We stayed at the local MLA's house and that was a treat.  but today i am at a bates hotel with DM and we have our own rooms... this is THE LIFE!!!  ocean view last night, tonight a view of the ummmm errrrr trees....

there are so many things i didn't think about when i decided to do comedy, and then subsequently gave up that dream... i mean, ok, yea, it's a bit of work, but man, to be able to travel and stuff is awesome...

im going to go and chill and watch tv for the next little while till we are picked up for dinner (chauffeured) and then off to the elementary school to bash my kids.... feeling all warm and squishy inside!!

Goin outta town

Well... procrastination strikes again.... I leave for the interior in less than 48 hours, haven't packed, haven't finished my jokes, don't know if I can curse and didn't do my hair.....


Mind you, my nails look good!!!

Being a comedienne is much more work than one would imagine, seriously.... I have to think of funny things, record them (cuz i procrastinate) then write out ideas, THEN make jokes out of them... which, though you might assume is easy enough to do... not so much....

When your life is ashambles like mine usually is, this can be a 6 week project... imagine working 6 weeks to complete 30 minutes PRE-WORK????  So now I have ideas, and I am sure that I can get them all to flow, if only I would take that special time (refer above to 6 weeks) to prepare ahead of time... though I suppose, once I have done that 6 weeks work, I could FEASIBLY break it up into little sections and have a bunch of MINI shows.... but I digress..

Ok, so i have to pack tonight... what does one pack to go into the wilds of BC?  Underwear is the only thing that comes to mind, however, I am thinking that the people of the interior would appreciate me wearing a little bit more...well, most of them at least....

Someone said to bring boots and a winter jacket.... we JUST got summer!!!  Oy.  Ok, but I have a pretty one and that's uber important...and a scarf (compliments my jacket nicely) and my nails (i co-ordinate like a mo-fo)...

Told the boy, quite by accident that I am going.... didn't mention that the girl is on her own for the weekend... the carnage I would return to.... did I mention that I am very distressed about leaving the girl... is technically only 2 days that she will be on her own, but I can BARELY count on her to give the animals food and water.... oh lord... I wonder if I can bring the dog.... (i like her WAY more than the kids)... trust is the key... trust the child..er... teen.... er young adult....

I think I will be taking some serious tranquillizers for this flight with mr. funny guy.... or.... drink... at 5 in the morning....hmmmm, tranquilizers it is.

I can't seem to concentrate, on anything, for any length of time... at all.... ugh.

where was i??????

Thinking about going to school

So I had a grand time with the evils last night.  We went to Tim Hortons and made asses of ourselves... fun times for sure.  We hung out with the family/youth worker, and he bought us coffee.  The evils were their normal selves.... and underneath it all, I waited for the other shoe to drop.... so when it didn't, I forged ahead and told them what has been on my mind.... I told handidart already, and she is pretty supportive, even asked me what age she had to be to start working (cuz she knows she won't get diddly from me if I do this)...

So I told his majesty as well... that I want to go to College to take the ASL interpreter course.... that's a HUGE undertaking, and yet one that the more I think about, the more excited I get... the worker seemed somewhat shocked by my desire and so asked me a lot of questions... at first I felt like defending myself, but then I showed the kids and he some signing... just simple "see spot run" type stuff, ie: my name is... I have two children, one boy his name is, one girl, her name is.... our family has a dog, her name is Tiny.... he was pretty impressed... I have been learning through online for 6 weeks.... and I can hold my own with a single, or maybe 2 deaf people.... Straight up, on Friday I went to a deaf social... THAT was a bit of sensory overload... for positive...

So... we shall see.

Other than that, the visit was sweet, and reminisce of the evils being my "KIDS" making faces, joking, talking inappropriately... I realized it has been 6 months since we did a "no outside forces" dinner... I sure miss them...

but DON'T TELL EM.

ADHD.... and I'm your MOM

So....

I decided to start up a blog... to get my "feelings out"... if you are reading this, you must like a good murder mystery, comedy, romance, life skills book, with a little self-help, archiac, medievil spirit twist added...

Why? you may ask? Why would you need to like all of these books.... because, I... 36 year old ME, have ADHD. I find that ADHD label hilarious, if you look it up on the internet, or in a book it will tell you that I can't watch a tv program or read a book, it will tell you that I am a boy, age 5-7, it will tell you that I am a miriad of things that I am not... but I will tell you the truth of it...

ADHD stands for Attention Does Herpes Dissatisfy?..... EXACTLY! It means, that on a 3 minute scale, I can switch topics, forget what I am talking about, ask you questions, demand your silence, cry like a baby and yup, you guessed it, lose my attention to whatever I am saying....

So hold on tight... this is going to be.......................

Wait... that last paragraph makes no sense! Well it does to ME... but probably not to you.... ok... using my life skills (coping with a constantly wandering mind) training I will attempt to make it make sense to you....

I don't concentrate well. Well, that is a lie... I totally concentrate well, for a minute or two, on a subject or 8.... CONSTANTLY.

I am raising kids.... or at least pulling strings that OCCASIONALLY connect to the children, er... ummmm, young adults, and occasionally they just pull my sweater into a bikini top... which, believe me.... NOBODY wants to see.

My kids are teenagers... and had anyone told me what THIS would be like, I woulda stepped outta line on that one... CONSISTENCY is the key with kids... try THAT with ADHD.... I can't remember to wash my hands after I use the bathroom half the time..... don't worry, within 3 minutes I REMEMBER... and provided I am not serving you food at the time, I will go back and wash them... I mean, once I have touched the food, what's the point....

but I digress....

I'm inviting you into the world of my making... crazy, up and down, topsy turvy me... topsy turvy... who the hell came up with that expression? it is stupid.

Sometimes I will make sense... other times, not so much... but.... I MAY keep on track... perhaps.