the dead guy's tv and other things

the dead guy's tv
works like a hot damn
it's like going to the movies
it's soo big
and it's not on the floor like the last one
so no more sore neck!
the DVD player ain't working with it tho
it's like that flippin machine is determined
to not work for me at all
then again
it could just be the way it was all
wired together
and me with all these new DVD's to watch
(which would likely explain my not having attended
one of the movies I'd planned to see
over the holly daze)

my building manager
just moved out...
he's gonna manage the building
from his new home down the road
while that doesn't bode well
for those of us still living in this building
it speaks volumes about qualifying for a mortgage
and I gotta get my loppy arse to the bank!

if I buy a home
will ya'll help me move?
hehehehe

and here's the eternal question
should I buy a car first
and then get a mortgage?
or mortgage first
and then car?
hey!
maybe they'll let me have both~!

as you can tell
my mood has lifted slightly
part of that was hearing from an old friend
this morn
and part is...
I am off for a New Years Eve revellry with friends
I will be back late on the 1st
as I have to work on the 2nd
I gotta say tho
even with all the sturm and drang
of this season
and the VOD
it sure is nice to have a week off
that doesn't actually cut into my holly daze

My wish list for you and yours in the coming year consist of:

I wish you good health...
I wish you happiness...
I wish you sunshine...
I wish you wisdom...
I wish you Joy...
I wish you Love...
and last but not least...
I wish you Peace

Happy New Years my friends!

see ya'll in 2008!

It’s the time of year

It’s the time of year for reminiscing over the year past…here we are on the 29th day of the last month of 2007 and I can’t help but re-hash the past year and dream of the year coming…..
A blogger that I know and read recently posted “When you look at the prospect of having more years behind you then in front, priorities change considerably.”
I like that premise….a lot…I think it’s true for me also…

So I find myself wondering at the changes I’ve gone through over the past year…and dreaming about the future yet again…

the new job – turns out I do the job well…(actually for the most part well with one hand tied behind my back) but while it’s forever a better job than the one before…I miss the “community” at the last job…I miss the people… and like the last job…the one I have now doesn’t exactly have room for advancement…if you don’t have a damn degree…they won’t let ya get ahead here….

Still…at my age…and remembering that I have no retirement put aside at all…finishing out my working life dedicating myself to a job with a pension plan and a medical benefit plat is much “safer” way to live than I even have lived in the past….

the club I left….turns out that I spent 6 years of my life, dedicating myself to build camaraderie and friendships with people that for the most part could really not give a damn about me. That for 6 years I spent listening to and caring for their wants and needs and now my own are virtually non existent. For 6 years I worked incessantly at keeping interest up in the off season, for 6 years I worked at keeping people from acting like children in public, for 6 years I put myself in a position to have people I barely know call me “mom” only to discover that it must have been a fantasy…cos not one of them has bothered to wish me best o the season….even tho I went onto their forum and wished them all the best....

I know that my decision to leave the club was controversial…and for me it wasn’t easy (to say the least)…but turns out it definitely separated the wheat from the chaff…and now that I’m getting to a point where I can be rational about the past doings of the people that precipitated my leaving, the people I left behind seem to have forgotten me. I guess in the long run I kinda asked for it didn’t I?

And in other news…the other club that I had belonged to and gone back to as a guest imploded right at the same time…which begs the question yet again…what is it about us as human beings that makes us need to belong?

the fambly….the bother is completely tied up in making amends to his children cos he swore his whole life he’d never do to them what our parents did to us..get divorced. As a result…while his kids are good, they are spoiled and he had a single mindedness about him that seemingly leaves no room for the rest of us…although if you suggested that to him, he’d be hurt and deny it vehemently….

the fadder and I have come to some kind of an “understanding” at the moment…not un-normal for us when he’s fallen out with the blister as he did last summer…but also…he’s quite supportive of my position with the VOD and I’m needful of all the support I can get just now……

the blister…remains a piece of work…she spends all her time whining about how hard done by she is…she continues to live in the past…(“the worst year of my life was the year my parents split up” it was 26 years ago…GET OVER IT!) she whines from cities all over the world that she’s traveled to for her job…I have to keep reminding myself that this is life as she chose it…and in doing so have to keep reminding the VOD when she throws “the poor blister” in my face….

which brings me to the VOD…it’s small wonder to me why the blister lives in the past…cos the VOD has made a 30 year career outta it…she’s too close to the edge for me to be able to stand by and watch her fall…but not close enough to the edge to qualify for a place in a home etc…and she’s a mean drunk the old doll….

the cuz and the cuz in law…She works at the same place I do…but she makes at least twice a year what I do and he makes at least 3 times a year what I do…so combined they don’t have a realistic view of life from my perspective…still…I think we get along well…and I know I have their love and support whenever I need it…

So what’s in store for next year?
What am I looking forward to in 2008?

1. I want to continue to grow and develop the relationships that have come to mean so much to me…the friends that have stuck with me through thick and thin and have become cherished members of my chosen family…those that accept me and my foibles when the people I was born to can’t, those that love me unconditionally and aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m an ass or outta line (well maybe they are afraid but tell me anyway LoL)
2. I have learned so much from this tight knit group of friends and I have the greatest love and respect for each and every one of them…I can only hope that continue to remain close no matter what our lives throw at us.
3. I want to get the Pickle fixed and spend as much time riding as weather permits…cos riding always cures what ails me…for some unexplainable reason it clears my head and allows me to put all the extraneous crap in perspective….
4. I’m gonna contact a counselor again and spend some time working thru some of the “kinks” in my relationship/care giving of the VOD…I want to be doing it cos I want to…not because I feel guilty…
5. And I also want to get to a point where I don’t have guilt associated with money…(wouldn’t that be grand?)
6. I’m looking at actually purchasing a vehicle (with the assistance of the bank)…which will help get me outta the gratitude flux with the VOD and be a large step in moving on with my life instead of waiting in god’s waiting room in hers….
7. I’m gonna talk to the bank about qualifying for a mortgage. I need to move and the VOD needs to stand on her own two feet before it’s too late….I live in mortal fear that she will fall (both literally and physically) and I’ll be stuck here forever.....it’s time…ya know?
8. I want to get the Dr’s ok to start moving…physically…I think I’ve had a long enough stretch with my systemic infection levels being low enough that I should be able to at least start moving…it is my fervent wish that I start moving and it not cause a spike in my levels again so that I can feel better…and it wouldn’t suck to lose some poundage as well….
9. I'm gonna continue to write….I don’t know if writing will take a larger focus in my life or if I will just continue this blog in an effort to get all I have to say “out there” but I have finally come to realize that writing for me…is like reading and riding….and breathing and eating…a necessity.

Small orders or large?
I’m not really sure
But I’m proof positive that it doesn’t hurt to dream…

10,000 hits!

in keeping with the trend
of my fellow bloggers
here's some news

I've hit 10, 000 hits!
that is...10,000 views
since I started trackin
in Nov of last year!

Domain Name shawcable.net ? (Network)
IP Address 70.66.136.# (Shaw Communications)
ISP Shaw Communications
Location
Continent: North America
Country: Canada (Facts)
State/Region: British Columbia
City:Parksville
Lat/Long: 49.3, -124.3167 (Map)
Time of Visit: Dec 28 2007 2:07:07 pm

thank you Parksville who ever you are!
and
thank you to each and every one of you
following me thru this tedious quarmire
I call life!

the saving grace

for me this holiday season
(surprisingly enough)
has been the fadder
(bad breath and all)

he's truly listened to my thoughts
and fears
for the VOD
and agrees as a result of what he' seen
over the last week

that in itself is affirming for me
it's not just that the VOD and I are too close
and I'm being judgemental...

it's that she is changing
she is getting "mean"
and she is drinking way way too much

the other night at my cuz's house
she fell flat on her arse
so maybe I can at least convince her that
a cane wouldn't be remiss

Christmas was kinda a let down
the Christmas eve family gathering
was not attending by the VOD
she said she was "too tired"
but mostly she was too hung
I know...cos all the "cure" beer
is gone from my fridge
(amazing what?)

and it's hard when you are with a family
that makes a great living
and they are as kind and as generous
as my cuz'z are....
I feel like the poor relation
(likely cos I am...but that's another story)

so for Christmas....
I got a new TV...
well new to me anyway
it's huge....
well huge for my little apartment anyway
it's a good 10 inches larger than the one I've been using
my cuz got it from her aunt
and they upgraded to flat's this year
so I got this behemoth
that just seems to be "taking over"
my living room

the other thing is that it's sitting on top
of the old one for now
because I don't have a table or shelf for it
so the fadder gave me some money
to get myself something to put it on
but going from a floor model to something
that large and that high
is making my living room look slightly off center...
not bad
just odd
if ya know what I mean

could be worse...
I could be living with someone with one o them
"big screens" that all my friends have
them things are just silly
and I'm not used to watching tv
where people's heads are larger than mine!

the only thing that was truly in abundance this year
was the food
culminating in a metric ton of honey garlic spare ribs
last night
I'm so full from 4 days of eating like this
that I may explode!
and I feel like I've been "on the go for months"
what happened to all the movies I was to see
over this holiday?

my horoscope for today says:
You may not want to wander very far from your bedroom today, and that is fine, dear Leo. Take this opportunity to stick close to home and get things done around the house that make you feel like your energy is an important part of the atmosphere. Hang new pictures, read inspiring articles, and laugh at magazine cartoons out that inspire your creative nature and humorous side. Be soft and gentle with your words and actions. Just take it easy!

so guess what I'm up to?
you guessed it....day of position on the couch!
maybe I'll even write a chapter or two?

I'm really looking forward to Sunday and Monday
New Years.....
I'm going up the island to visit with my friends
the people that keep me sane
and that' a good thing!

if it was good enough

if it was good enough for the King

then it's good enough for WyzWmn

Eat, Drink and Be Merry

Oh
my
goddess
I
am
full!

just got home from a day at the cuz'z

nutting like watching 2 kids open every present any kid in the world ever wanted....sheesh!
we had morning glory's and eggs Florentine for brunch
then this aft.....smoked salmon and capers, oysters and pate for starters...
which segued into turkey, potatoes, gravy, 2 kinds of stuffing, 2 salads, maple butter yams, them ugly little cabbages (ick), beets, figgy pudding...
more Christmas cake and cookies than you can shake a stick at...
and finished off with liqueurs, cognac and truffles....
BURP!
if there is one thing my family can do...
it's eat, drink and be merry...!
.....even when they are hardly speaking to each other!

hope ya'll survived....

Chapter 30

the sound: Paul McCartney and Wings – Band on the Run, Jim Croce – Time in a Bottle, John Denver – Annie’s Song, Gordon Lightfoot - Sundown, Eagles – One of these Nights, Doobie Brothers – Black Water, Michael Murphy – Wildfire, Harry Chapin – Cats in the Craddle, America – Sister Golden Hair

My mother is 5 foot even, not a single hair over 5 ft. but she’s spent her whole life being a force to be reckoned with. She’s tiny, and she’s mighty. She’s a Saskatchewan farm girl and she’s used to tossing calves to brand and bales of hay.

She marches into the middle of this melee and starts barking orders. She begins with “hey” several times, each time a little louder than the last and when that doesn’t work she pulls herself up to her full 5 feet and roars “shaddup” in a voice that would make a mule skinner proud. (and people always wonder how I could make myself heard over rock bands in the bar…I learned from a pro!)

There is about 10 seconds of stunned silence which is then broken with the sound of the kid cop putting his gun away, the father getting to his feet and looking sheepish, Mike hanging his head like he’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and the boys sitting down and going back to their pizza and beer.

Just like that it’s over. Except for the Dr and the hospital security that come barreling though the swinging doors from the main part of the hospital…almost a day late and a dollar short.

Mom tells the father, the kid cop and Mike to get outta her way and they all shuffle to the side as she comes into my room. It’s not till she takes my hand that I realize she’s shaking and I remember that she hates hospitals and suffers from white coat syndrome so I guess we’re all lucky she even came at all.

I go to sleep again.

I don’t wake up until they are x-raying me. The x-ray confirms cracked vertebrae but with some care and a brace I’ll be ok. I am sent to a room where they wake me up every 15 minutes because now they’ve seen what’s left of my helmet and have decided that I’m not falling asleep but in fact concussed so everyone leaves and I spend the rest of the miserable night worrying about Mike who’d collapsed soon after they’d done my x-rays to confirm that I was basically ok.

In the end Mike had compressed vertebrae in his back between his shoulder blades and the Drs told him that it was only the fact that he was in such fine physical shape that he’d not done more damage to himself.

Uncomfortable Silence

nuttin like a small bout of hysteria

or crackin yer nut in public

to bring about

the proverbial "uncomfortable silence"

or

the "pregnant pause"

it's ok folks

I'm not completely offa my nut....

I'm just human (surprise!)

and I freak on occasion

chalk it up to the Winter Solstice

chalk it up to seasonal crazies

chalk it up to spending too much time in the past (it's a little emotional for me...ya know?)

chalk it up to lack of sleep

chalk it up to frustration with the bother and the blister

chalk it up to fear of losing my VOD

I don't care what ya chalk it up to

but know

that I'm back

I'm not suffering a permanent meltdown

yup

I'm human

and I'll live

my sense of humor

has come home to roost

this morning

now

back to your regularly scheduled programming....

sorta

I'm takin some small time off from the story telling

I'm going to post Chapter 30 later today

and then I'll have to wait till I can wrap my head around

writing the rest of it....

keep checkin back after the holidays....

I'm sure to get back to it then

now...

Peace dammit!

More

I phoned the bother at 9
and laid everything out in a clear and concise manner
and then got
full
on
hysterical

and like most men
his immediate reaction was:
"I'm coming down there and putting her in a home......if she won't take care of herself then by god I'll be making the decisions for her but you have to understand that she will be mad at you for squealing on her"

uhmmmm
hello?
what the fuck do you think I've been trying to do for all these years?

I.have.been.taking.care.of.her.for.as.long.as.I.can.remember.

sometimes I think it's what I was born for
cos it's not like anyone else gives a shit....

and maybe
what I really needed to hear
was
"you've been doing a good job "
or
"thanks for all your hard work"

it's not like I'm a moron
I know that she will eventually die
we all will
but a little support wouldn't be remiss

admitting to myself that it scares me is hard enough
having to have "Mr. Fixit" announce from on far
that he will "take care of it"
just pissed me off...

what the fuck have you been doing about "taking care of it"
for the last 10 years?

so I arrived at work at 10
talked to one of the directors at work
that let me in on some counselling
provided by our HR dept
that I can access for free

I set my out of office email for the holidays
and both my voice mails
and came home at noon
and sat here in the dark

I tried all afternoon to get to sleep
but didn't' have any luck
I finally did so around 5:30

I woke around 7
so
I called the VOD and asked her if she wanted me to get anything for her at the store
and she told me "she's sick"
I told her if she's still sick tomorrow she'll be going to the Dr
and there ain't no arguin
so give it up

apparently with an hour's sleep comes a little backbone

I've been functioning for the better part of my adult life
on the brute strength and ignorance gets you thru persuasion
I do it for myself with my health
and I do it for the VOD to take care of her

all I have to do is get mad at them
and I can do it

I may not like it
and I may not need it
but I can do it

I woke up crying again

I roll over and look at the clock
3:30 AM

not again....

I'd been dreaming of the house
or the loosing of the house rather....
you remember the house?...the one that I bought from the VOD for way way more money than it was worth to enable her to have a "retirement" only to loose later when Danny ran off with all my money and the truck and the bikes and the trailer and the job was gone and I was sooo sick?

I thought I'd worked my way thru all that guilt over having lost the family home 10 years ago...but I guess not...

my eyes hurt...in spite of having put the medicine in them when I went to bed
the right one feels cut so even if I can get myself to stop crying it leaks uncontrollably...and light makes it worse...I feel borderline migraine-ish and I should have known considering all the leg cramps I had last night...but there's no tonic in the house...so no quinine for me....

I look at the clock and it's 4:35
at least I don't have to worry about work...the worst of the transition is over and Hysteria is on holidays...so if I'm late no one will know but me

I'm in bed and out
restlessly pacing
crying

I put medicine in my eyes and cry it out
pace into the kitchen...wipe my snotty face and back to bed
repeat

I realize it's fear...
fear of the demise of a woman
fear of the demise of the VOD
fear if being stuck
how did I get stuck here?
wasting
waiting
how?

I don't know how much longer I can do this

I don't know how I can continue to resent that the bother and the blister are blissfully living thier own turbulent lives while I am here waiting for the VOD's demise
I feel like I'm in god's waiting room too early

she won't go to the dr
not that she has one
I think she's having TIA's again
she doesn't remember things from the very fabric of my childhood...
but she remembers bad jokes from the 30's
she's angry so much of the time
it's not like she's got religion to fall back on
or relationships
she has nothing....
she puts on the good face
when the bother or the blister put in a brief appearance
or phone
but mostly she's waiting to die
I want her to fight
but she doesn't get it
and it's not like we can really talk about it
we only talk about it when I get so frustrated with her
that I get mad
and while I know that's not good
it is what it is

is this what it will be like for me?
alone...
I won't even have a cranky fat bald daughter to rely on...

she was once so vibrant
now she goes for days where she doesn't get out of her pyjamas
or put her blessed face on
she won't get her hair cut because she doesn't want people to see her hearing aids...
she doesn't smile or laugh because she doesn't want people to see the horrid mess her teeth have become
she feigns sickness "the flu" so she can think she's covering the amount that she's drinking and I won't catch on
I recently had to take a day off work to drive her around to try to find her a dr that would fill all her prescriptions...cos I got a call from the pharmacy and she was out of everything - heart medicine, diabetes medicine, blood pressure, thyroid....out of everything and didn't mention it...
he Dr retired in June
and in spite of my repeated attempts to assist her in finding another
she will not
cos as long as she doesn't have a dr she doesn't have to go to one and find out how bad things may really be....
she won't walk over to the grocery store next door to get herself anything healthy to eat nor will she walk the half block to the dentist to get her teeth fixed even tho the blister gave her money to do so....but she walks the half block the the liquor store a couple of times a week
she's so small and haggard
a recluse
and I don't know what to do about it
I want my mommy....but she's not in there...

I'd like to spend some time with friends over the holidays...and I feel selfish wanting to do so...
she has no one but me...
and I'm vacillating between angry and sad
so
I suppose that perhaps the time has come for me to find myself a grief counsellor
not for her...but for me

it's now 7:30
and while I can now face this monitor
and type all this out
my right eye is still weeping and my head is still full

all this
before the crack of dawn
will I be able to pull it together
to meet the day?
do I want to?

I know this too shall pass
but I wonder what exactly
I could be doing to make any of this better?
what?
what?

Do you like blues?

check out Marc Broussard - live at Criminal Records

be patient...give him time to warm up

not bad eh?

Chapter 29

the sound: Deep Purple – Space Truckin, Humble Pie – 30 Days in the Hole, Harry Nilsson - Coconut, Vickie Lawrence – The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia, Helen Reddy – Delta Dawn, Dobie Gray – Drift Away, Grand Funk Railroad – We’re an American Band, Dr John – Right Place, Wrong Time

To say that Mike and my dad didn’t get along so well is kind of the king of the understatement. Mike was a big ole bad ass biker and my dad was a cop, their relationship was the definitive oil and water.

It just wasn’t pretty on a good day.

My father couldn’t see what I saw in Mike…but mostly he couldn’t really see me anymore either so it didn’t bother me much....truly my dad and I didn’t get along so well anymore, but that’s another story. I knew Mike was right to call him though, if for nothing else than to have someone tell my mom.

Mike told me that my dad was on his way over.

What he didn’t know is that my dad was duty chief that night, so he was working, and he brought along a probationary constable. It could have been to lord it over the kid cos that was the kind of guy my father was and it also could have been to have someone without an emotional investment driving but in the end it proved to be some kind of poor judgment.

By the time my father and the kid cop get to the hospital, the boys have not only picked up the bike and taken it to the house…but they’ve picked up a couple of pizza’s and a two-four of beer and are sitting in the emergency waiting room having a meal and waiting for news on me.

So the father and the kid cop walk in to 20 er so bikers “having a party” in the waiting room. My father stomps down the hallway with the kid cop trailing him. The kid cop is already nervous cos of the “degenerates in the waiting room” so as he is coming towards my room he’s already twitchy and fingering his service revolver's grip.

Mike is standing in my door way.

I slip back into sleep.

I wake up to the father and Mike arguing in the doorway. My father’s face is almost purple he’s so angry cos Mike won’t let him in my room. My father is not used to hearing the word no and he sure as hell wasn’t used to hearing it from someone he felt had no business telling him anything. I was, after all, his daughter, his property.

Dad is 6 ft 3, Mike is 6 ft, dad weighs 200lbs and is carrying a gun, Mike weighs 250 but has the physique of a professional weight lifter…the perfect “v” with great big shoulders and arms (that’s where the Muscle Beach nickname came from). My father is big and dark and brooding, Mike is big redhead with a ruddy complexion and is currently flaming, almost "glow in the dark" red angry.

I try to lift my head to tell Mike it’s ok and just as I do so Mike decides he’s had enough of my father and his attitude and he leans forward and tells my dad to “step the fuck off” and by way of punctuation, finger punches my dad in the chest using all 5 fingers to push him away. My father staggers back, trips over his own size 14’s and goes down on his ass, skidding a bit on the highly polished floor.

From the vantage point of the kid cop, all he sees is a room fulla bikers, and one of them pushing his boss to the ground, he freaks and pulls his gun which he trains on Mike, thank goodness he has the presence of mind to not pull the trigger yet.

The waiting room explodes into noise…voices raised, furniture crashing and the kid cop’s got sweat beading down his face and is waving his gun back and forth like a kid at a carnival mostly because he doesn’t know who to shoot first I think.

All this occurs just as my mother comes thru the sliding doors from the parking lot.

Chapter 28

the sound: Jimi Hendrix – Little Wing, The Guess Who – Share the Land, Cream – White Room, Rod Stewart – Maggie May, Chi Lites – Have You Seen Her, Bee Gees – How Can You Mend A Broken Heart, George Harrison – My Sweet Lord, Bells – Stay Awhile, James Taylor – You’ve Got a Friend

I tried to stand and kept falling down.

I remember Mike yelling at the drunk that had been driving the car as he jumped up and down on the hood of the car in his hobb nailed boots (probably just to get his point across). I remember thinking that the guy was lucky I was there or Mike would be “laying hands on him” something I knew he’d never do in front of me.

I remember hearing Mike kicking in the windshield of the car and I remember feeling like it was ok that I was “resting” on the side of the road. I tried to look over at Mike and the damage he was doing to the car but I seem to have fallen asleep.

I woke as they were sliding the gurney into the ambulance. I was on a board with my neck in a brace and Mike was climbing into the ambulance to sit beside me. He was holding my hand and looked all white in the face and scared. The next time I woke up I was in emergency room and I could hear Mike frantically calling the boys at the clubhouse to tell them what had happened.

Discretion being the better part of valor, I went back to sleep.

I woke as Mike came back into the room and I decided it was time to get up only to find that I couldn’t. Every time I raised my head or upper body offa the pillow I “fell asleep”.

Besides that, I seemed to be lying in a hammock, so even if I could have got my head up offa the bed…I’d have needed a hand (er three) to get out of that contraption besides Mike wasn’t having any part of that...I was stayin in bed and that was that.

I got a little frantic trying to remember why I was there so Mike reminded me what had happened at the scene and that I had to wait for an x-ray technician to come into the hospital to x-ray me because it was 4 in the morning and there wasn’t usually one there all night long.

He told me that the “fear” was that I’d done something to my neck or pelvis that might have a ‘lasting’ effect.

"What the fuck does "lasting" mean?"

He told me that he must have scared the driver of the car right and proper because when the police had arrived at the scene the driver and passenger both told the police that all the damage to the car had been done during the accident. He went on to say that the driver also fully admitted to being drunk and in the wrong, that he'd caused the accident thereby absolving Mike of the damages he’d done.

We’d laughed and chalked that up to Mike’s animal magnetism or his power of persuasion.

He went on to tell me that the boys were picking up his bike and taking it to the house, that he wouldn’t let the Dr examine him till he was sure I was alright.

And then he told me that he’d bit the bullet and called my dad.

That one surprised me.

Chapter 27

the sound: Them – Baby Please Don’t Go, Bob Dylan – Ballad of a Thin Man, Rivieras – California Sun, Vince Guar aldi – Cast Your Fate to the Wind, Marvelettes – Danger! Heartbreak Dead Ahead, The Beach Boys – Don’t Worry Baby, Vogues – Five O’clock World

I had been at work in the bar and for some reason unknown now had decided to dress a’la school girl. I’d worn my short red plaid pleated kilt with a white blouse and a black blazer. I’d worn thigh high black stockings and black lace garters and my waist long hair piled up on my head using a myriad of pins.

I smiled as I remembered Dallas grumbling while she’d put my hair up. “One more fucking bobby pin and yer head’ll weigh too much and you’ll fall over!” she’d bitched.

So the end of the work night finally arrives and Mike, as always, shows up to take me home. Only this time he shows up on his brand new Harley – fully dressed with one of them brand new radios in the fairing that everyone’s been talking about.

I’d teased him about how he’d loved that radio more than he’d loved me and he'd kept telling me "it's all about the tuneage Baby"

As we locked up for the evening and Mike gets ready to back the big bike out of the carport he hands me a helmet and I hand it back.

“It’s only like 6 blocks and it’ll take me a freaking hour to get all these pins outta my hair”.

We argue a bit and in the end Mike (mostly cos it’s 2 o’clock in the morning) gets offa the bike to help me take my hair down and then hands me my chaps. I mutter about him being an “old woman” and slip on a pair of jeans before putting the chaps on because I know that nothing compares to the chaffing done by leather chaps on bare skin and my skin is definitely bare between the stockings and the panties.

Once I’m all zipped in and turn around Mike has this funny look on his face and as we get on the bike he suggests that maybe I’d like to dress like that at home on occasion, just so he can find out what it would be like to get me outta all that gear.

We both laugh as we take off.

We are driving in the inside lane of 2 lanes, heading towards the clubhouse when we come up behind a couple of people in a gold coloured Chevy Nova SuperSport. Mike paces behind it a bit and then guns the motor to swerve out into the outside lane and blast around the car.

As he swerves into the outside lane, the driver, in his infinite wisdom, turns right from the inside lane.

We hit the car broadside, almost in exaclty the same manner as that guy that had T-bone’d Mike earlier in the year. I went off the back seat over Mike and over the car like I’d been shot out of a cannon.

I remember hearing the bike go down. I remember seeing sparks and then I hit the car…the first time. I later found out that I’d actually hit the car once on the roof with my helmet and once on the hood with my pelvis and then came down on the road on my helmet…skidding like an upside down rag doll till I came to rest against the curb.

It all happened so fast that when I first opened my eyes and looked up all I could see was the pitch dark 2 AM country sky and I’d thought to myself “alright Baby…this time you’ve done it…..yer dead!”

I thought that right till I started to breath again, and that hurt so bad I knew I was alive.

What seemed like a long time later but was likely a matter of seconds, I tried to move my head to get up and I couldn’t get it to move. I panicked...thinking that my neck was broken and I began to scream.

Mike came running to me and in the end had to cut the chin strap from my helmet. Seems my helmet was caught in one of those under the curb culvert things....jambed tight actually.

Dan Fogelberg

R.I.P.
Dan Fogelberg

(I seem to be doing this way way too often lately)

you'd think

that with all the floods
that I've had in this apartment
in the 10 years that I've lived here
that I'd not be surprised
when another one happens

but
not so much

I haul my butt outta bed around
8 this morning
stagger into the kitchen
eyes barely open
to put the coffee on
and as I walk past the fridge
I splashing thru
ice
cold
water
on the floor

gak!

don't need coffee now
I'm awake!
I'm awake!

apparently this craptastic
self defrosting fridgelette
is kickin the bucket

*sigh*

it just never ends
do it?

no more shopping....!

No
More
Shopping

never ever again!

the mall's weren't that bad cos I forced the VOD to stick to the game plan....I didn't get into trouble till I got back out here to Brentwood.....where......

I almost got arrested at the Liquor Store...I went in lookin for the fixins for "Nuclear Waste ala Sweet n Loose" ....

so I'm walking around the liquor store looking for Blue Curacao and I don't want a vat cos at the rate I drink they'll have to bury the heel with me.....

first there's this british woman in there with a little boy...child is about 6 years old...she and her hubby are wearing coats and hats and boots and mitts and the kid is wearing a fuckin t-shirt....
so the kid is crying that he's cold and the mother is laughing at him....(I just know immediately that she's one o them "new age" mothers that ain't gonna do nuttin to force their kid to do nuttin they don't wanna....but jeez lady...it's fricken cold out...make the kid stay home if he won't wear a jacket....) I am irritated by the kid shrieking and the overly loud "look at me" laughter of his mother....

but I still myself and keep looking for Blue Curacao....I walk past this "new to english speaking Canadian" that works there and as I go by I say to him (cos he's blocking the isle) "excuse me" to which he replies...."nothin like a crucifixion to bring all the drunks out to play!"

I swung around to accost him and the VOD grabbed me by the arm and literally pushed me out the freakin door....

we had a small "discussion" just outside the door on the merit's of me going back inside to speak to the manager...the VOD's opinion being that even if I'm right...should I go back in there and lose my temper she'll have to drive alla way to Sidney (20 min) to get pong going forward....

so then we went to the local grocers where by some "new kid" packs the chips, tomatoes and avocados under the fucking canned goods....

I came home.

I'm gonna stay home till Jan ok?

ohhhhmmmm my fat lilly white ass!

a Christmas Story

For years and years I too hated Christmas…too much brouhaha in my books…then I had a Christmas epiphany…no small feat for a non-Christian…but here goes

I always put huge store in Christmas…because I was raised in a huge family and I had believed all my life that "family" is what Christmas was about…My Father’s birthday is the twenty-third and my uncle’s is the twenty-fifth and as a child we always did the big Christmas/birthday celebration…but as time goes on things change and you discover that "family" are people too…and they have foibles…they mess up…and things never quite live up to your expectations.

In the early ‘90’s my Mother moved to BC leaving me to live in the old family home in Thunder Bay. My brother was newly married to woman that put the "C" in control. (and another word that I won’t use here!) She didn’t like cooking when I was around and for many years I thought it was cos she was intimidated by the fact that I have my chef’s papers…turns out she’s just lazy, opinionated and lazy…but that’s another story.

So Mom moves to BC, Dad and my sister are in Toronto and I am faced with the prospect of cooking the whole Christmas shebang at my brother and sister-in-law’s house. My sister-in-law has invited her whole family so I am cooking a 27lb turkey and all the trimmings. Two kinds of stuffing (one for each end) 3 kinds of salad and 4 vegetables, mashed spuds, gravy, pickles etc etc and top it all off with Figgie Pudding…(I’m from a go big er go home kinda family)
Five days before Christmas my sister-in-law calls me and informs me that I am "allowed" to come to her house for an hour between 6 and 7 AM to stuff the bird and put it in the oven…but then I need to leave for the day so she can have some "quality" time with her family.

Can you guess where I told her to put her bird? ~ahem~

So the Christmas dawns and I am alone. I am not answering the phone…and I am depressed….as my Grampy used to say, "I am lower than whale shit and that is on the bottom of the ocean!" We are having a good old North Western Ontario blizzard and as I listen to the radio I am overcome both with the concept that I can’t get away from Christmas (it’s just freakin everywhere) and that I am alone. So I jump in my truck and head out to the local truck stop for breakfast. Somewhere where there’s people and noise.

On my way to the truck stop I drive past the Greyhound Bus Depot and while it is closed I spot and elderly man in a summer weight suit huddled in the doorway.

I drive by…then go around the block and drive by again. Something about this situation tweaks my conscience and I cannot get the picture of this man out of my head.

On my third pass I pull into the parking lot and lean out my window. "Are you ok?" I ask. This tiny elderly fellow looks up at me and with tears running down his face says, "I’ll do."

"Well no…he won’t do." I think as I watch him shiver and shudder. So I offer to let him in my truck. I’m thinking that if it turns out he’s got a gun…I certainly won’t feel any worse off than I already do this Christmas.

At first he refuses. But then with some cajoling and conversation he eventually climbs in and I take him to the truck stop to warm him up and maybe get him some food. He refuses to eat but allows as I could buy him a "cup of cocoa".

As he thaws out he tells me his story. He tells me his name is Sheldon Shepherd. He left Vancouver 3 days ago on his way to London ON to spend Christmas with his family. He was traveling by Greyhound. In the bathroom in the Thunder Bay bus terminal he is mugged…robbed…and knocked out. Because he is old school and won’t ask for help when he comes to… he doesn’t tell anyone, his grandkid’s Christmas presents are gone, as is his coat and wallet. He finds himself outside of the depot, the depot closed, in a blizzard with a lump on his head the size of Santa. Areas of his story seem lacking to me…but he’s got this lump and no coat and no money…so…

I am filled with righteous indignation and I insist that he allow me to call the police. They come and after all is said and done I find out that they can get him another bus ticket to London but they have to find a judge to authorize the funds and besides there is no bus running thru till the twenty-sixth. One of the police officers suggests that this sad soul go to the local homeless shelter. I’ve never been there but I know where it is so I agree to drive him there.

Sheldon is quiet on his way to the shelter. He confides in me as we are pulling into the parking lot that he’s never had to accept charity before and not comfortable with it now. I fully understand. I have never been able to look a homeless person in the eye. I have always been consumed with guilt and the thought that there but for the grace of all the gods go I.

In we go. My first impression was that we were entering a jail. We walked in thru the front door to be confronted with locked double doors and a "security guard". Sheldon is pulling back so I tell the guard his story and the guard opens the locked doors to allow us into the shelter telling us to "find Rick".

As we enter I am assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and smells….lots of them not pleasant. There is a riot of color and furniture and bodies everywhere…there are people sleeping standing up against walls and on the stairs and tired used old blankets clutched in dirty little children’s fingers.

Slowly as I become accustomed to the "ambiance" I begin to see Christmas in this room. There are bits of tinsel hanging from dirty stocking caps set jauntily over dirty faces. There’s what can only be called a Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the corner and there are new socks and new gloves on many hands and feet…and lots of the people that are awake are smiling. I don’t understand.

Across the room is the big serving window to the kitchen but I see no one on the other side…as I start across the room I hear the unmistakable sound of dishes smashing to the floor and a resounding "Damn it!" from behind the wall. I peek around a see a harried fellow, in half a Santa suit picking up broken dishes and muttering.

"Rick?" I ask. This frantic man turns to me and blesses me with the biggest gap tooth smile and says…"yup…hiya! What can I do for you?"

I explain Sheldon’s story and Rick tells me no problem he can stay here over night. He then turns to Sheldon and says,"I don’t suppose you can cook?"

"Why?" says Sheldon and I at once. Turns out that the volunteer church group that was to cook the shelter’s Christmas dinner won’t be coming because of the storm. Rick says that Christmas is always a banner time for the shelter food wise…"people assuage their guilt by giving at Christmas". The end result is that he has tons of food and no cooks.

"Hmmmmmm," says I, "maybe I can help"

Long story short…we have Christmas dinner for close to 200. Sheldon isn’t a cook but he’s a mean dishwasher and clean up kinda guy…and we recruit a couple of people from the shelter and we are off… We have beef and turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing made in pans instead of in the bird and spaghetti with sauce and chocolate pudding.

We have Christmas Carols and laughter and hugs and tears and handclasps from dirty little fingers. By 10 PM I am completely and totally physically exhausted, sweaty and hot, hot, hot… but as I turn to survey the room I have an epiphany.

Christmas is not about receiving the love from my family that I believe is my due. It truly is about the giving. In any way shape or form.

Sheldon passed away in 1996 but I still hear from his daughter Janice…once a year at Christmas. In the more than 10 years since this event occurred in my life, I’ve sent this story out to online friends far and wide...and as a result there are “Christmas with Sheldon” parties all over North America designed by people who have been affected by Sheldon’s story to assist people that have “less than” we do. Not people we believe are less than us because we don’t get to judge. But people that have less than us for whatever reason…and they don’t just happen at Christmas.

Here I am more than 10 years later understanding that Sheldon’s plight could have occurred to anyone of us at any time in our lives. Sheldon coming into my life was a true blessing and a life changing moment and my telling of Sheldon’s story to others is not my right but my responsibility.

It is truly the best that I can do.

Chapter 26

the sound: Black Sabbath – Black Sabbath

“We…..We have to stop them!…We have to do something!…I have to go home!!!!” my voice rises both in volume and decibel.

Wonder Woman turns on me “Do You Think I am unaware you whiny little bitch?” she yells right in my face as she grabs me by the shoulders shaking me.

“That’s my Little Man out there and the last time he tried this he got shot!!!”

“Oh god…”
“Oh fuck…”
“Oh god what am I gonna do?” I whimper as I hear another volley of shots…and then gun silence as sound of bikes continue around the track.

“Just one more baby” I hear her breath and I look back up at her as she watches Robert re-load for the third time, “just one more and yer in” and I realized I’m not the baby she’s talking to.

Robert raises his arm as I sink back into my chair…”I need something stronger than beer to drink” I think and look around for the bottle. I remember where it is just as he shoots again, someone passes me a joint and I absent mindedly take a toke.

Two shots, and then the unmistakable sound of a bike out of control, this time he’s hit something and I hold my breath and turn to the field.

As if in slow motion I see a bike with a huge cemetery style bitch bar go down as it slides in one direction and it’s rider in another. All around it bikes are skidding out of control and lights are coming on and people are yelling.

I sink lower in my chair and oddly (as often happens to me in periods of high stress) my thoughts are pulled away to another time another place, both familiar and scary.

This time it was the time Mike and I totaled his brand bike.

here's a thing

did ya ever notice
how when you've spent
a couple of months
beatin feet
to make sure everything
gets done
and then you finally get thru
to the other side
it's a let down?

so I've spent the better part of
a month n some
working hellish hours
due to the transition
in our office
so much so that the last count
was 2 weeks "lieu" time

the boss
in her infinite wisdom
has decided
that we'll just keep this
between us

which begs some questions:
1. in this country...overtime is
time and a half...
do you suppose she'll honor that?
not likely
2. in this country the employee
gets to chose if the want their
OT in lieu time or $...
do you suppose she'll let me choose?
3. how the hell is she ever gonna
make a serious argument
for us needing another body
in our office if she doesn't
officially track our OT?

hmmmmmmmm?
I'm tired of fighting
for my basic rights
with this woman
I shouldn't have to
and if I go to ER
she uses that as a bullet too
accusing me of not being a "team player"

yesterday she suggested that I'm
an adrenaline junkie....
uhhhhhhm
"hello pot? meet kettle!"

it's the definitive
double edges sword
damned if ya do
damned if ya don't

Chapter 25

the sound: Black Sabbath – Sweet Leaf, Metallica – Seek and Destroy, Jethro Tull – Aqualung, Aerosmith – Train Kept a Rollin, Kiss - Detroit Rock City, AC/DC - Thunderstruck, Apocalypse Now - Ride of the Valkyries

Robert turns and waves at the fire.

One of the women jumps up and runs into the garage and turns off the sound. As the music stops the night sound of crickets and frongs can be heard and the distant rumbling of engines idling as the men duck walk their idling way around to the far side of the track.

I turn to the people still around the fire with me and ask one of the women, the one closest to me, what’s going on.

She shudders as she turns to me and I realize it’s the woman that had been introduced to me as Wonder Woman. She gives a kind of all over body shudder again as she turns to look at me and I am surprised to realize that she’s well over 6 feet tall and shaking like a leaf and tears running down her face.

“It’s the follies” she repeats, “the games…the final qualifier for the club”

“but I don’t understand” I reply, what kinda games are they gonna play with guns in the dark?”

“Watch n see Baby…watch and see….and maybe say a prayer” she sighs.

I turn back to the field to see Boomer and BarnYard standing on either side of the far side of the track both carrying lit torches in the air to illuminate their way.

Once they are in position across from each other I see them look to Robert for guidance but Robert isn’t watching them. He’s looking at the gun in his right hand and the bottle in his left. He takes another long pull on the bottle and as he does so his long hair slides back to reveal his face. He looks up and nods.

Boomer and BarnYard begin to wave their torches back and forth from side to side as they face each other across the track and in the flickering light I can see men on motorcycles lining up between them.

As if at a “start”.

Just as it begins to register to me that the sounds remind me of race car drivers jockeying for position there is a loud clap of noise and the bikes begin to take off from their start positions. Some go very fast and some are slow outta the gate but they all begin to move.

Robert looks up and the smile falls from his face.

I see his lips moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying and I get out of my chair to see if I can get a better vantage point. I see Boomer and BarnYard hot foot it back to the rock as if they are trying to get out of the way.

As I begin to walk forward to get a better view Wonder Woman grabs my arm and I turn to look at her as she admonishes me to stay near the campfire and out of the line of fire.

“Line of fire?
Fire?
As in gun fire?
As in shooting?
Like fucking target practice?” I bleat.

She nods as I hear a succession of gunshots.

I swing back towards the field to see Robert lowering himself back into the chair and as he does so he lowers his arm. I see Rosie handing him something as she’s speaking to him quietly and calmly.

I see Robert nodding as he listens.

“A reloader” mumbles Wonder Woman.

I am absolutely freaked. “But he’s shooting at them?” I squawk.

She nods. “It’s the follies” she replies. “It’s the last thing they have to do to earn their colors”

As the bikes continue around the track I shrill, “well that’s just fucking ridiculous” and I glare at her…but she doesn’t notice as she turns back towards the track again.

I hear another shot closely followed by 5 more and I begin to really freak out. “There are fucking people fucking shooting at fucking people out there!” I yell and I’m enunciating through clenched teeth.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

let me begin by saying
Nuclear Waste!

I drank too much of it
and now
it's the day after
and I'm in strong need
of a nap

and I removed the mailing list
I decided
I don't like it
and I get to be the boss of this blog

so there!

LoL

a twofer!

a 2nd post for today

I went out for dinner with
the ex colleague
and Hysteria last night
I was loathe to go
and it turned out to be a good time

I'm to go to a "seasonal" party
this evening
I'm loathe to get outta my jammies today
but I know it'll be a blast when I get there....

so
the real reason for this post
is to let you all know
that I've added a "subscription" link
to the bottom of the blog
so those of you that
wanna know when I post
will get an email
letting you know when I have

ok?
let me know what you think people?

oh
and someone needs to tell me again
why I don't just unpack the 12 gauge
and shoot the Voodoo God
thru the living room wall!

I got home at 10:30 last night
and went to bed around 11
at 12:30 I wake up to this horrible freakin racket
and stumble out to the living room
to find the source

seems he was throwing the Screeching Bitch
up against the wall
again

why that woman puts up with him
is beyond me
he's an odd little Jamaican gnome
with knobby knees
and floppy dentures
...he must to the wild nasty like a mink er sommat
?