futurecatlady.net

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.

sometimes i think of returning to school to get another degree. i would not use said degree. my only reasoning in obtaining one is to tell some people that piss me off, “big shit. i have one of those too. fuck the hell off.” rationally, i know that this is not a good reason to spend thousands of dollars and years out of my life but…it is rather tempting.

face it, given my history in higher education, this is perhaps one of my better ideas. let’s be honest. my reasoning behind my first degree was “math is hard. i have an online lover and cannot keep him and do my finite homework. let’s become a social worker. you don’t need math for that.”

the reasoning behind the second degree was “christ i hate people because they don’t do what i think they should do…and i am knocked up. i guess i should do something before i have this kiddo because a ba will have me sifting through garbage cans for food and rolling my spare change.”

it’s funny because ten years after my graduation from high school, i still have no clue what to do with my life and i did spend the better part of my evening rolling my pennies. sure i work now but i don’t particularly enjoy it. actually, if i had it my way, life would be one big march break consumed with trips to the library, playdates, walks to the dollarstore and creeping on facebook.

having a career is totally overrated. i need a sugar daddy…or a winning lottery ticket…or at least lower standards so i don’t feel like a loser in life because i am a teacher’s bitch/special need kid glorified babysitter. i think one of my problems is that i am surrounded by super successful people. i should slum it a little more.

actual message written by me:

“so anyway, what’s new? it’s been since like…1999 or something. i see you are married and in winnipeg. congrats..on being married..not winnipeg. i don’t like winnipeg.

i googled you a few years ago to find out what you were up to but no good results. i guess me telling you that is creepy but it is also nice to be thought of and i would want to know if someone was thinking of me.”

as my favourite roomie mentioned, i was doing okay until i admitted that i was creepy. it’s like when you go on a job interview and say you are nervous. you should never say you’re nervous because then they automatically look for signs of your nervousness that they might not have noticed before you said that you were nervous. am i making sense? probably not.

i am so exhausted right now but i can’t sleep. i might have built up an immunity to nyquil as in it is affecting my brain but not my coughing. i toss and turn, hack up a lung or two and then i think, “fuck it” and get up because there is not enough pointless drivel on the internet. i need to do my part and make more.

wouldn’t this be nice..?
Originally uploaded by lauraandparker.

recently, the parkerpoo went on a field trip to the museum where i took this amazingly creepy picture. today is a snow day for me. i don’t have to work today and we are home being lazy in our pajamas. last night when i was in my nyquil induced fog, i heard funny noises outside my window. i chalked them up to hallucinations as it has been so nice lately. i had stopped wearing a coat, started planning for spring/summer and generally thought better, nicer days would be coming.

i was wrong. that sound i heard was the wind. there is also snow to be shovelled. i had to run out briefly this morning to drop off my timesheets as apparently march came without me noticing. i could not get out of my driveway. i figured my trusty new tires would get me out of here without any problems but i was wrong about that too. given that i am exceptionally lazy, i chose to simply shovel two little grooves for my tires to get out instead of shovelling the entire driveway. of course we know the story continues when i came home and missed the two little grooves and got stuck again. the neighbour was looking at me as if i was retarded as per usual as he was also shovelling his driveway ten minutes earlier when i got stuck the first time. this time, i was not embarassed because at least i was wearing pants albeit pajama pants. the other night i went to throw the garbage in the can and there he was, smoking a cigarette and staring at me in sorels, granny panties and a t-shirt doing the “brrr. i am so cold” dance.

later, i will meet jules as we are taking charge of our lives and joining a gym. parker and i will go to the library. i have no idea what else is store for us; as the jean smart (most notably remembered by me for sweet home alabama) cinematic masterpiece states, “anything can happen on a snow day.”

i actually liked snow day. this should surprise no one.

Last night when i was at a training session for work (again), I sat with two ladies my age. One was engaged, getting married this summer and the other is a happy newlywed, just married last fall. The two chatted about weddings and shags and showers and buying houses. They shared their hopes and dreams for the future…taking vacations, having children etc. I, obviously, had nothing to add to this conversation.

While many girls when they are young fantasize about their weddings, even a ten year old laura knew that any wedding of mine would not be like the ones seen on tv. We never had much money. My family has always been….interesting. Since one can’t very well get married and not invite any of her family members, I decided going away would be best. I have always been a proud, easily embarassed yet realistic person so i would sooner hide my dysfunction than embrace it and have a jerry springer like wedding. There would never be uncle stu antics, brawls or inappropriate speeches at any wedding of mine. I would go to a beach..or vegas and see celine dion. I had big plans even if the closest thing I have ever got to wedding planning was a midnight game of girl talk when i was 12.

As you grow up and time ticks away, you realize that maybe getting married isn’t in the cards for you. Your father dies and you realize you will be giving yourself away. More people die and other family relationships fall apart and suddenly, you are estranged from everyone except your grandmother who serves swanson turkey dinners to you on Thanksgiving. You have failed relationships and failed things that aren’t even relationships. You realize that most people who you know that are married are also miserable and you are ashamed to feel a little happy about that. You try to tell yourself that you are just fine being alone and cats are better than men anyway. You have a child and realize that even if you found someone who wanted to spend the rest of their life with you, it would be better to save the money for parker’s education. You tell yourself that it’s funny that you are the blessed broken road that leads others to the something that you don’t really want anyway.

Finally, you realize that you are just lying to yourself and that hurts more than anything, but life still has to go on. You are headed off to Parent’s Night by yourself again. Yes, my son has a different last name than me. Yup, his father is married. Yeah, I am okay with that. Nope, I have no idea why he doesn’t come to these things. Parker and I do live alone. Nah, it’s not that hard. No thanks, I’m already dating someone. Nope, there are no plans for anything like that. Sure, I will keep that in mind if things don’t work out.

This is my life, internet. Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I just want to pick up someone’s dirty socks and have all the pampered chef products I could ever need. I wish I had someone to shovel my snow. I wish there was someone around who gets excited about carnivals and field trips to city hall because they care as much about the parkerpoo as i do.

I wish I could be the irritating people disrupting my medication training. I wish I wasn’t so jealous of what i didn’t have.

it is no secret that i am sensitive. i have always been this way. when i was a kid, i was the one who cried all the time whenever anyone spoke to me or asked me a question. i like to think i’ve become better over the years. most times, i think of my increased sensitivity as a good thing. as upset as i get over bad things, good things that happen to me are even better because i have feelings.

sometimes i get upset about things that “shouldn’t” upset me. today, a boy in grade seven made me cry. i am well aware that said grade seven must have some issues to say such things and i shouldn’t let something a teenager stranger said get me down but…it does. i am also aware that it is absolutely nuts that a thirty year old woman who manages to raise a child by herself and graduated from university twice (let alone, passed grade seven) breaks down in tears because a seventh grader, inner-city “punk” makes fun of her. unfortunately, crazy or not; this is how i roll. some people get angry, some people just ignore it or laugh it off. i cry. i guess it’s just one of my character traits.

although this entry makes me appear like some weak claire richards type, i don’t think that’s particularly true either. i cry at movies i’ve seen a thousand times, reality tv, weddings and tim horton’s commericals. if you have ever watched message in a bottle or sisterhood of the traveling pants, you’ve seen what i am talking about. i’m a suck. just don’t make fun of me…i might start crying again.

what’s shaking in lauraland update: in point form because i suck, it’s nearly 5am and..suck.

~ouch, laura, ouch. sarah did a fine job of explaining yesterday’s adventures. i will post pics one day.

~we had a storm and my internet and cable tv did not work for two days. i live alone with a two year old. this did not go very well.

~i’ve added more archives (look up, memory lane) and changed some categories. endless summer nights (thank you, richard marx) need a category of their own. dating is hard has been changed to “men are hard” because as i so eloquently stated, “you don’t have to be dating for men to get hard.” i am no longer looking at my stats and have turned off my tracker. fame is daunting. :)

~i am currently downloading britney spears songs. i am well past my britney phase but i am performing in a talent show next week. i am the best worker ever. i think i might even dress up in a schoolgirl outfit.

~i had a lot of plans for the weekend. they were awesome fun plans (out for a birthday with “stella”, having a yard sale with becky, crashing a plenty of loser event with those friends of mine who have not given up on internet dating..yet, and a hot date at the cemetary with madge.) seeing how i can’t walk very well, i don’t know how they will go. i might just rock the bay with a limp.

~i pulled a jessica stein a few days ago. i was looking around the net and saw a FSF who QUOTED SARAH HARMER IN HER PROFILE. i put up a stupid ad so i could contact her and tried my best to be charming…and she didn’t respond. i love rejection!

~speaking of rejects, have i ever told anyone that i will one day die alone with a bunch of cats? no? i didn’t think so. just when i ended the streak, i am having another high fidelity moment. if anyone out there wants to comment and tell me what is wrong with me; i am ready. i’m a tough chick, i can take it. the thing about streaks is that they leave you wanting more, but not the eating cookies while researching sex toys on the internet more..so please help. bring it, internet.

~i saw cars with the little man and sue tonight. i think i enjoyed it more than he did. i found talking automobiles very amusing. the little love story cracked me right up..PROBABLY BECAUSE THEY ARE CARS.

~i’ve been reunited with someone i met who seemed like an incredibly awesome person this week. we are going to make plans someday soon to kick it which i am pumped about. to think i thought i fucked it all up with bad choices but…no.

a month ago, i wrote about strapless bras. since that shopping fiasco, i have continued to have bra issues. sometimes they fit, sometimes they don’t. i desperately needed new bras as it is tank top and t-shirt season. i should be wearing nice bras if they are going to be hanging out of my shirts. it’s bad enough that i have the daily ritual of bending over in a low cut shirt and exposing myself to the world. i am not even embrassed of this anymore. everyone in town has seen my boobs at some point, whether it was those disasterous wet tshirt contests in my younger days, breastfeeding in public or nightswimming. they are just boobs. unfortunately, i feel pressure from society (i.e. madge) and feel the need to dress appropriately.

last weekend, i went shopping. i tried on every bra imaginable and finally left with nothing except the realization that i have no freaking clue what size my breasts are. it got to the point where i couldn’t even tell if a bra fit me or not. that’s sad, internet.

in dryden this weekend, christie took me to “michelle’s top drawer”, a fancy lingerie shop where they will actually measure you. i thought this was a great idea since i don’t live in dryden and could quite easily make a fool out of myself since i’m not from there anyway. because i am generally socially awkward, i stumbled around the shop, looking at bras and waiting for her to approach me. looking back, i don’t know what i was thinking since it is highly unlikely that the salesperson would just come up to me and ask to measure my breasts. when she finally came by and asked if i needed help, christie said that i definitely needed help. the woman got out her tape measure and said i was measuring a 36C. that alone is funny because it is the most popular size in the world and one would think i could have just guessed at that.

she validated my previous shopping experiences and told me that in some styles of bras i would be an A, or a B, or a D. since she is a bra expert, she went through every style of bra in the store and brought them to me in the appropriate size for that bra. some were Bs and some were Cs. the first couple i tried on were awesome and then i had about 50 duds. we realized that the foam ones just don’t fit me right because i suck.

at one point, i was trying on a black front clasp push-up and i couldn’t tell if it actually fit or not. she came in and helped.

bra lady: “k. the straps are too loose.”

*fixes straps*

bra lady: “move your right breast up.”

me: “huh?”

bra lady: “no..up…that’s out.”

me: *fiddles like the uncoordinated oaf i am*

bra lady: “there you go.”

i finally left the store with three bras. i did get the black front clasp and a mocha tshirt bra. (did you know that you are supposed to wear mocha under white? crazy.) finally, i bought this gem. it is the best bra i have ever owned. i bought it in a forest greenish colour. i want to wear it everyday without a shirt just to show the world how great it is. i even bought the matching thong. i don’t particularly like thongs since i have enough problems with regular underwear creeping up my ass. considering i don’t own pants that fit me and refuse to wear belts, i figure it might be better to wear smaller underwear than having big bridget jones granny panties pulled up to my boobs with my pants down to my knees.

that’s right, internet. i keep getting hotter and hotter but at least i have nice underwear.

right now, i am at the super tired stage when you don’t know whether you will fall asleep sitting up at the computer or..vomit. i am no longer as spry as a cricket. i need to go to bed early and i need to be asleep at 3am..not be sitting in a slummy, 24 hour diner on the outskirts of town, eating “mowie wowie” cheesecake.

the fact i fell asleep and missed the entire third period of the hockey game could have been a clue to just go home and go to bed. i was talking to sarah while leaving someone’s* house and then realized that i was hungry and suggested we go for a quick bite to eat and then i would go home to sleep. that quick bite to eat turned into “i’d love to go to the berry farm one day..” to “sure. let’s go to grandma’s.” it was a school night. i should have known better as i walked around life today in a tired haze.

as always, it was a great time. i met sarah’s uncles, ron and gord, who bear a striking resemblence to my infamous uncle stu, and was reunited with brad who was doing some man work. unfortunately, checking out the berry farm was a bit of a failure seeing as it was dark, being midnight and all. i froze my ass off (not literally unfortunately) as i was wearing a tank top and it was all of about 5C outside. i charmed sarah’s family with the famous vacuum story, singing every mariah cariah song i could remember, and my extensive farming knowledge.

me: “..but how can you work the berry booth when the berries haven’t hatched yet..”

me: “you made the pond…but how did you get the water in there?”

i come from a long line of saskatchewan rednecks and spent 21 summers on a farm. apparently, i didn’t pay much attention. let’s blame it on the tired.

anyway, i hope to see the berry farm in the daylight and maybe even do some picking this summer. right now, i’m tired but working (or packing for dryden) and it is the suck. i could write more about last night but for the tenth time, i’m tired. read sarah’s version of last night’s events; she writes better than me anyway.

*it seriously agitates me to be unable to blog about this. the pain in the ass reads my blog and writing about said person is probably not socially acceptable. it might be time to dust off the livejournal because christ, the stories can’t tell themselves.

internet, did i mention i was tired..so tired that i might throw up? just throwing that out there.