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Utterz cut me off and I was just getting started. I came across this site tonight and it reminded me of when sarah and I used to audioblog on our adventures. Thus, I was inspired to sing some reebs (her pet name from…me) for everyone. I will try again because obviously, this is very important. Clean the house, pack a suitcase, register for school..that can wait. I need to sing some Reba for the six people who read my online diary.

Seriously though, I have loved Reba McEntire since I was a kid. In high school, I watched a ton of CMT and her videos were always awesome. My alltime favourite was her duet, “The Heart Won’t Lie”, with Vince Gill. My heart smiles when they are touching hands over a pane of glass. Fifteen years later, I am still waiting for someone to reenact this moment with me. When they finally do, watch out; I will POUNCE.

“The Heart Won’t Lie” also had personal relevance when my first crush and I were seperated by the distance of two southward high schools because, you know the heart won’t lie and sometimes life gets in the way. I had the romantic notion that we would one day finally get together -perhaps at the Sacred Heart senior elementary school reunion. The fact that I never once declared my feelings to him didn’t figure into this equation.*

I could go on about Reba McEntire videos from 1993 and beyond, but I will refrain. for now. Come to think about it, I could devote an entire entry to “Is their life out there?” and reflections on my own return to higher education. (Christ, give me some ceiling fans and a pork chop and I could somehow connect it to my life.)

I also love Reba, the tv show. I own most of the series on dvd. I always loved it but after I became a single parent, I found new meaning in it. Some of my life’s challenges include a baby daddy and his new family and sometimes during the dark times, I think to myself, “What would Reba do?” It’s like WWJD but funnier with hints of bitterness and a kickass soundtrack.

Anyway, September 25: I will singing loudly into a makeshift microphone aka my fists. I will pound my chest to pump me up for the powerful parts. Reba and Kelly**, watch out.

* By “never once declaring my feelings”, I mean that once I realized that I liked him, I never spoke to him again unless he started the conversation. When he did speak, I refused to look at him and spoke in grunts. I added him to facebook recently. It only took me a year to work up to it.

** I may have neglected Ms. Clarkson in this entry and I apologize. Obviously, I love the Kelly Clarkson as well. Heck, she encouraged me to try Pro-Activ and for that my uncomplicated acne and I are eternally grateful.

not dead. just on vacation and relying on dial-up and stolen/wireless/fair-to-poor connections.

currently, i am in red deer, alberta a good 2200km from home.

In the words of the great Elton John:

Turn them on, turn them on
Turn on those sad songs
When all hope is gone
Why don’t you tune in and turn them on?

…and so I did.

Yesterday, Parker and I visited my grandmother. We brought her some persians because we are nice people.

grandma: wow. you really have gained weight.
me: …thanks. really, why would you say that?
grandma: well you have.
me: that’s not nice. you think i don’t know? just don’t say anything.
grandma: fine. oh laura, you are soooooooooooo skinny.
me: what is wrong with you? i don’t say, “oh margaret, look at those wrinkles.” why would you say anything?
grandma: because i am hoping you’ll eat less…and stop buying persians.

Ten minutes later,
grandma: you didn’t eat all of your persian. do you want some pie?

Welcome to my life. Just roll with it.

As a parent, I am trying to expose Parker to as many different types of books as possible. We read books he picks out which are usually Spider-man, Pokemon, or Batman. We read books where we learn a valuable life lesson (ie. The Berenstein Bears Get the Gimmies). We read non-fiction books on outer space, weather, and animals. We read classics and poetry. I hope to continue as he grows older since I have been brainwashed by Mem Fox to read to him until he is thirty.

I do not want him to turn out like me. As a youth, I read a lot of books. Unfortunately, they were either from The Babysitter’s Club, Sweet Valley High or (god help me) Fear Street. The only books I recall reading that were not part of either series are “Dear Mr. Henshaw” and “Bridge to Terabithia.” As an adult, I have opened my horizons to a) books that are funny b) books that are movies c) books people (oprah winfrey and assorted bloggers) tell me to read or d) self-help books. I don’t know if it is a personal preference or because I wasn’t exposed to it in my younger days but I find myself extremely uninterested in anything that doesn’t depict life as I know it. Science fiction, fantasy or books about any other cultures are excruciating painful for me to read. It could be because I am easily distracted but maybe not since I can still name the original members of The Babysitter’s Club (Kristy, Stacey, Claudia, Mary-Anne).

Yesterday at school, I was reading aloud from Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. Because I started reading near the conclusion of the book, I had no idea what was going on. I was actually amazed that there was a talking lion. Somehow, I have got through 28.9 years without knowing a thing about the novels (or movies.)

As a coincidence, this evening, I took one of my paying companions to see Prince Caspian. I figured it would be like all the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings movies I attempted to sit through and failed miserably. I was right.

Laura’s Prince Caspian synopsis:

-cute kids on a train
-damn, this sour apple slushie tastes crappy
-hahaha talking animals
-I need to buy cat food.
-I like how Lucy ties her hair back.
-must have popcorn
-oh, little people! I must remember to pvr Joe and Kate plus Eight.
-I have to pee
-Wow, it’s like a “drag queen mermaid only no fin but a horseparts!” Neat.
-I wonder if it’s raining
-YAY! LION! It’s about time..oh! He made the trees move.
- Is this over yet?…..and now I’m crying. Why the hell am I crying? It must be because other people are crying.
THE END.

Even though I watched the entire 144 minutes of Prince Caspian, I cannot tell you what happened. However, I can tell you all about how Regina was deaf and dated Bruce but then they broke up and she started with a bad crowd and DIED after her first ever experiment with cocaine.

Screw Narnia. I’ll stick to Sweet Valley.

Tonight, I was taking a sentimental journey, looking for some old pictures of Parker when I found a journal I wrote for one of my university classes. (I took a lot of psychology/social work/”let’s share our darkest moments in life” classes where writing skills weren’t important as long as you showed major angst and minimal thought.) Some things have changed since I wrote this journal in April 2003 (ie. the whole becoming a mom part) but the general gist of it remains the same: Death sucks and I still miss my dad sometimes.

happy father’s day,
laura

My Defining Moment Read the rest of this entry »

Inspired by meg fowler*:

Random Things that I LOVE:

sweatpant-capris (the best of both worlds)
purring cats
fruit punch
love’s baby soft
podgy
mr. sketch markers
big macs
postsecret
the smell of water straight from the hose
cake
sleigh rides
Tom Selleck
first kisses
random acts of kindness
fireflies
summer holidays
clothes from clotheslines
sandboxes
yard sales (and other people’s junk in general)
parker’s stories
cake
people who feel
tetris
The Friday Night Knitting Club
imdb
lilacs
reading Saturday’s newspaper
when people update their facebook status
boys in hawaiian shirts
fruit stands
inside jokes
iced tea
kaaral dazzling
the sound of flip-flops
backrubs
bonfires and marshmallows
cinnamon flavoured toothpaste
field trips
messy hair days
neutrogena ultra sheer dry touch sunblock spf 55
monster rock ballads

*I know I have been talking a lot about megfowler lately. I cannot help myself; I think her blog is fantastic. I am this close to claiming to be her “super-fan laura-anne” and stalk her when I am in Vancouver this summer….

Announcement: Internet, I am going to BC.
*shrieking/flapping hands/wetting pants*

I am the greatest granddaughter alive.

Well…sometimes.

Despite the fact, I often complain about the greatest woman ever and quote her for the internet’s enjoyment, I do try to be a good granddaughter. Seeing as we are each other’s only family in town, sometimes I agree to go places which I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY DESPISE.

Today, I spent a portion of my afternoon at the hospital for a memorial service for people who have died in hospital in the last year. I have major death issues. I think everyone knows that. I do not go to funerals unless forced (which usually ends up being every 1.5 years when someone in my family dies.)

My uncle’s death last summer was awful yet necessary. He was suffering and it was extremely sad yet somewhat of a blessing. I figured I would be okay at this memorial service. I would say a prayer, sing a song, and eat some cake. End of Story.

Ha.

It turns out that most of the other people were not so okay with the loss of their loved ones. People were crying. There was one young fellow sitting besides us who was quite emotional through the whole service. He was attempting the tough, “I’m not going to cry” act and failing miserably by rocking back and forth, biting his lip and not quite holding back the tears. He seemed to be alone with another younger fellow and I was this close to offering hugs or some kind of socially awkward condolences.

The young grieving fellow was one of many criers in the room. There were older people in wheelchairs, crying. Entire families were all joining hands and crying.

I tried to be rational and repeated to myself: “Laura, do not cry because other people are crying.”

Finally, I gave up and took out the kleenex. If you can’t beat them, join them.

As for the young fellow, the rest of his entire family was seated elsewhere. I saw them in the lobby where they were all crying which got me started again. Since I need to be tough for my grandma (HA.), i tried to hide my emotions and instead ate too many pieces of nanaimo bar.

Now I am at home, grieving the loss of an uncle I had stopped “grieving” for this morning, sad for the total strangers who lost people they loved and on the verge of puking because of too many rich, chocolate pastries.

You better be happy, Grandma. :)

Actual conversation at our local hospital’s memorial service for patients who have died in the last year:

me: I’m tired. I need to have a nap.
grandma: You’re not pregnant, are you?
me: NO.
grandma: If you were, I would clock you.
me: but I’m not. thanks though..
grandma: I haven’t seen that patch on your ass in a while so I wondered.

I had to work this evening (and make mixed tapes online.)

I’m sorry but mixwit may just be the coolest thing I have ever seen. This is totally highlight of the weekend material.

checkerout.