The New Lexicon

My new favourite saying is "I'm worried and full". I think that sums up how I feel most of the time.

I have a need to type out this thing I'm looking at: "The Powerful Taste Deterrent Invented by a pharmacist". 
God bless those pharmacists. *wipes tear from eye*

My wife's boss is having Japanese exchange students stay with her and she's never even watched Iron Chef. She's afraid to take them to the grocery store because she thinks they'll stare at all our different kinds of rice for an hour and she doesn't have that kind of time because she's a busy woman.  Seriously, she was worried about that. So she thought taking them to Sam's Club instead of a grocery store would be a better solution, because there's more stuff, but less variety.

My wife doesn't believe in lactose intolerance. I  think I've mentioned that before, but it needs rementioning. Because I don't have many original things to say here.

Does anyone know what's fun to do around the Dayton area of Ohio? Fun and cheap would be a good combo as well.

Brian Skinner and The Destroyers

Ugh. Bad. Night's. Sleep.

wiggie's even less than semi-facinating existence

I've had card & board games 2 for like, 2 years, without installing it on my computer. Jody and I got it for Christmas from her father, but as soon as he gave it to us he said "but you might not want to install it because I hear it's full of spyware". Then why did he give it to us? To teach us a valuable lesson about gifts that have spyware. I would say that maybe he should have just given us a real set of cards, but that would be a crappy gift, so I won't say that. Plus he gave us some towels that were nice and fluffy, which we needed, because we had a new home, and new homes need nice and fluffy towels. But they were a dark pink, which matches no one's bathroom, so they shouldn't be even made, but that's Target's fault. Not mine.

I don't know what to do with my broken cellphone. It's been broken for a half year, half of which I actually paid for it's service because I thought I might get a new battery for it. Then I realized I wouldn't. Then I realized that I don't like talking to people on the phone, so I didn't call and try to go through the hassle of cancelling it. So I paid for a phone because I hate using the phone. Well, not physically, just because of my generalized anxiety disorder. Or GAD. I'm nervous about doing anything. Because of that and my hate to do anything disorder. Or HTDAD.  But now the phone just sits there, useless, but I can't bring myself to even store it away. The thing cost too much to not at least look at it glancingly for two years. Sort of like any of the thick expensive reference books we have in the house.

I try to justify my not neat unless someone is visiting apartment/townhouse by thinking "well, if I had a house, it would be easier to keep clean. There's more room so less clutter." But of course with more room, there's more space to clean. But I don't like thoughts like those, so I divert my mind to what it would be like to be a ninja turtle. Because that's a much more important thought.

One night, a few years back, when I was back in Nova Scotia, probably dreaming of what it would be like to be a ninja turtle, my brother awoke me with a scream. Not just any scream. A terror scream. A "my brother is currently dying because a monster is stabbing him with his claws" scream. My brother's room was in the room down in the basement below me, so I had a good ear vantage point. So at 4 in the morning I went from deep sleep to down in the basement checking on my brother in 5 seconds flat. Very flat. It seems my brother, my 28 year old brother, had a bad waking dream. He woke up, and thought he heard little footsteps coming into his room from another room. Then he looked at the entrance to his bedroom, and he saw a little boy staring back at him. So he got out of the bed to touch what he was sure had to be a illusion. And when he went and touched the boy, he FELT the boy. And then he screamed like he was dying. 

I mention that story so I can mention this: my big brother is a wuss.

And that was the point of this entire post. Kind of.

 

Burnin' down the house

Well, let's see. I caught the stove on fire today. And I learned something about myself: I hate the sound of smoke detectors.  That and I freeze when confronted with huge flames. Not freeze in the sort of ice/cold sort of way, but in a "stand there and breath in lots of fire smoke" sort of way.

Eventually the fire did go out, only leaving much of my stove blackened. And after a half hour the smoke detector went off, but not before people in the building thought that maybe I was going to destroy their homes. And not before I made my lungs be in much pain from much smoke.

But the food tasted good. I guess burning hamburgers a little bit don't hurt so much.

But my arms are exhausted from waving a pillow at the smoke detector for a half hour.

So it's sort of a 50/50 situation. Usually cooking hamburgers doesn't get my arms enough exercise, or so I always was thinking when I was cooking hamburgers in the past.

What was my point?

Oh yeah, I'm an idiot who starts grease fires and almost burns down his home.

I've got to go mentally punish myself for a few hours. Until then, stay frosty.

For all the neglected party people in the house

Last night, just before I went to bed, I went to get a drink, to wet my proverbial whistle. While looking in the fridge, I noticed our hotdogs. Not just any hotdogs, but speciality Ballpark Grillers hotdogs. More expensive in that there are less hotdogs per pack than usual hotdogs, because they're supposedly gourmet hotdogs, of some sort. We had decided to get them (because of a coupon) but save them for special grilling occasions, rather than eat them raw when we're hungry and short on time between meals. Not that I do that, but some people do. Really, I don't. I'm anti-raw. I even only eat toast.

Well, not really, toast takes too long to make. But the rest was true.

Back to my important point. I saw the hotdogs. And then I realized, hey, I had dreamed about those hotdogs the other night. In that, I dreamt that I had noticed that there were more hotdogs in the package than we had originally thought.

So I rushed back to bed next to my sleeping wife and had to mention it, even though she was probably too asleep to pay attention. But remembered dreams are something you just have that incredible urge to share with someone.

But then I realized, hey, I was dreaming about hotdogs. That's not something to let my wife know. I'm a happily married man!

Between you and me, it was only because I had gone to bed hungry that night, having only ate a barely filled pita wrap that day.

Hey, I'm on a diet.

But that's the only reason. And if you tell anyone otherwise, or anything about this story, I will find you and give you an atomic noogie.

New Energy, New Calories

Weird, crazy, hectic week. You have no idea. Mainly because I'm not going to tell you. "You" being the fictional person who is reading this. It's amazing how life can go from "boy I'm bored, and I'm tired of watching 30 Minute Meals on the Food Network...is Tyler Florence hosting yet another show?" to "How did I end up in a waiting area of a hospital I didn' t know existed reading a free newspaper that's all about herbalism and how the God of Light and Sound can heal your soul?". Well, maybe not amazing, but looking back from a Thursday (because looking back on Friday or Saturday is the domain of those whom aren't unemployed) I can feel that way on my own vanity page.

Thus I needed some good quality ice cream and a Dr. Pepper, to normalize. Not that I normally have either of those, but sometimes getting something I don't usually have (to eat, or to swat at) normalizes me in a way that the same old same old wouldn't.

Oh well, I think I'll just look at my Globe, circa pre-WW2 and see what countries existed/didn't exist then, until I'm tired enough to sleep, or bored enough to do something else to make me tired enough to sleep. Either shouldn't take long.

Bored after Midnight

I'm tired, but I'm not TIRED-tired. You know? I know if I go to bed now, I'll only half sleep and wake up a thousand times at every little noise my cat's make. But they're asleep now, waiting for me to try to sleep to wake up. It's a tightrope I'm walking right now. And if I don't sleep well, then I'll be grumpy tomorrow, and then my wife will be grumpy at me, and then Friday is ruined. Fridays are not for ruining. So I'm trying to do boring, unstimulating things that keep me awake, but are slowly making me really sleepy. Such as writing this, and searching the internet reading about stupid things.
 
Such as:
(1) CSI people being fired. Young people and their need for so much money, it's outlandish.
(2) Price of Season 3 of the "Trailer Park Boys" DVD. Like I had money or something.
(3) The Justice Society of America. Because I felt nerdish though I've never bought a comic in my life. Though I coloured on some of my brother's old Spider-Mans when I was a kid. Though I never knew why he owned comic books, since he's a wannabe jock (aka. He played volleyball and soccer). Maybe he was trying to impress the WRONG CROWD. You know of whom I speak.
(4) Checking all my magazine subscriptions, and fretting that they're all expiring. What else am I going to do to pass time on the treadmill?
(5) Seeing what the weather is like. Because it's dark outside and I don't know if that sound is rain, or someone spraying my townhouse with a hose.
(6) Seeing if I could buy groceries online. I could. But I don't want to.
(7) Looking up my name on Google AND Google Groups. No one cares about me.
(8) Seeing if I sold that SCTV book on half.com in the middle of the night. I had.
(9) Random things on Yahoo images, like my name, and the name of my friends, and of celebrities who's names I spell wrong.
(10) The price of that book and CD I want. Like I have money.
(11) All 100 of my email accounts. It seems like it some days. One day someone will actually email my google email account, I'm sure. And then there's my business email. And my personal. And my personal 2. And the one I collect junk mail in.
(12) Other blogs, to see if people are leading more interesting lives than me. They are. Like I have money or something.
(13) Canada news, but the webpage opened to slowly, and I forgot what was loading, and then I thought of something else I wanted to see, so I opened that webpage instead before I forgot what my thought was.
(14) Ratemykitten.com, to see how my cats are doing. They're doing much better than I would on one of those amihot.com things. Not that I think my cats are hot.
(15) Briefly looking at newsgroups, but then losing my concentration, because I'm finally getting tired.
(16) Looked at my onw weblog, then looked to see how many people had visited my profile, then changed the title and tagline of the blog to something  I'm only 20% satisfied with. I know I can do dumber and vainer than what I came up with.
(17) Trying to write this entry with some purpose, and then forgetting it because I'm finally getting tired. And then remembering that was the purpose, and being happy and sedated.
 
 

Roses and Dead Weight

There's not a whole lot going on with me right now...I've had two job interviews in a row go to nothing because the job ended up not actually being made into existance, so I'm finding new ways to not get a job, but other than that, everything is status quo.

We spent most of the weekend watching Season 1 & 2 of "Trailer Park Boys" on DVD, along with going to a rose garden park to see the world's worst improv group. If you have to tell everyone to applaud every 3 minutes because what you're doing is just getting blank stares of "I'm wasting my time with this?", there's something wrong with your act. And doing the guilt trip of "it's harder than you think just thinking of anything to say, we're improving. Improving! We're an improv group!" doesn't work either. I know you're improving...it says so on that black and pink banner behind you. But it was free, and the roses were pretty, and dogs barked at each other, as all good dogs do. Plus I was grumpy. And hot. And there were little mites of insects biting me. Plus I wanted ice cream.

And then I got ice cream! And things were good. With my marshmellow sundae, no one knew that I had toppings but me! Intrigue!

My mother is very anti-catnip. Not that she's pro-cat, but just thinks that anything that makes your pet high, isn't a good thing to be in existance.

Baby Bedrooms

My nephew, Max, got some baby photos taken yesterday. Well, actually, his parents got the pictures taken, and he was tied down and distracted so that they didn't turn out all crying and squirming. But they just weren't any photos, they were those special theme, baby boudior (sp?) photos with all the sailor hats and the "gone fishin'" type pictures. Now it's time for auntie and uncie to pick out the photo we want to to put up at our place for years of viewing.

I have one rule: No butt shots.

Yes, baby bare butts are cute, but we want this photo up for many years, mainly because changing out wall art is difficult and time consuming when I'm trying to watch television for God's sake. And there's nothing much more embarassing for a teenage guy then going to their aunt's house and seeing their baby ass on the wall. I love my nephew too much to put him through that sort of pain. He will get cheek pinches though, I can't save him from that.

I think I've actually won that argument as well. Because I present arguments in logical ways that can't be argued against...and I never, ever shut up until I get my way. MY WAY!

Gummi Haz-Mat

I embarassed myself when I almost choked on a gummi-worm today. Mind you, I was by myself, and by almost choked, I mean only a small part when down my throat for about .2 seconds with minimal chewing. But I thought I was going to die. Luckily no one saw my fear.

But I can still feel it where it went down, like a gummi-shadow pain.

It's tough being me.

Don't Mess with Nova Scotia

Well, I just got back from a trip to Nova Scotia. And by "just got back", I mean, two Saturdays ago. Jet lag, it can a long time to get over. There's a whole two hour difference.

It was my best friend's wedding (like the movie, except, I wasn't marrying him by the end of it) and I almost didn't make it. I had to decline being in the wedding party because I didn't think I'd be able to get up for the wedding. Then a week before, with some help from my mother, I got tickets to get there, and arrive less than an hour before the wedding, with a half hour drive from the airport to the church. So I flew with my ill-fitting dress shirt and tie (45 pounds ago it was nice and snug) through beautiful Detroit, and onto beautiful Halifax. Luckily I'm still short and chubby enough to look stupid in a tux, so maybe it was better for everyone that I couldn't make it into the wedding party.

Though severely dehydrated (damn you airline delicious pretzels!) and tired giddy from being up at 4 am to make the 3:30 pm wedding, I had a good time. I got to see my two best friends for the first time in years. Though thanks to my timing of being up the week after the wedding, my one friend obviously went on his honeymoon to beautiful Cuba, and my other friend had to get back to work in beautiful Ottawa the day after the wedding. And my wife Jody couldn't come along, so I decided to save all the "vacation" aspects of a trip home for next Christmas or next Summer. So I basically just hung around with my Mom, which is what she wanted anyway, cause I'm the baby of the family and it kills her that I'm in far off beautiful Minneapolis....where she can't nag me about drinking too much pop. But I had to drink more pop there, they don't have Lime Pop here, and I miss it so much.

Actually I spent most of the vacation eating junk food that you can't get in Minnesota, and watching the Euro Championship of Soccer, which costs $30 a game here, but was on free tv back home.

btw, the flight through Detroit was so much better than through Toronto, as last time I had to go through an hour long international customs line in Toronto. This time my first point of entry was Halifax, and I had a 5 minute line. Plus I only brought carry-on luggage, and I checked-in online, so I was super time saver Mister Travel Man.

I missed Swiss Chalet and Harveys so much. Harveys makes your hamburger a beautiful thing.

Anyway, I came back here and got a job interview, and I bought a new tie and dress shirt, and the going out of business Mervyns. I loves it when businesses go under, because of VALUES! Anyway, they ended up not hiring for that position (which doesn't make it hurt less...*sniff*), but they should have hired me, because my tie is georgeous. Man-Georgeous. And 20% off. You can't beat those deals.

And there was grilling, fireworks, and such on the 4th of July, and on the 1st of July (Canada Day). Actually, I missed Canada Day in Canada, but I did grill, and I did get cheap Canada shirts on sale at Sears. Quality Sears T-Shirts rule. So in the end, most things turned out good. Mostly.

But the main thing was that I got to make a lasting impression on my 6 year old cousin Sarah. My mother has, for reasons unknown, a big fridge magnet that says "Don't Mess with Texas" over the texas flag. I think she might have gotten it with a package of texas toast, but I'm not sure. It doesn't quite mix with her usual array of magnets that are mostly advertisements for paving companies and poems about the experience of being a mother or sister. But anyway, there's this old magnet there from my youth that says "Brian's Notes", and I got little Sarah to promise me that every time she visits my mother, she had to make sure that the magnets were aligned to say "Brian's Notes: Don't Mess with Texas", because really, you shouldn't. She was very excited about the whole operation, and has apparently not stopped talking about it since I left. So I got to teach a impressionable youth a very important lesson.

Don't Mess With Texas.

I'm not sure she even knows where/what Texas is. But she'll learn, and she'll remember.