Saturday, January 30, 2010

My Patronus is a Headless Chicken...or Maybe Courtney Cox

Oh my God. It has taken me three days to finish this post. Every time I sit down to type, one kid or another starts throwing things or pestering for snacks or taking a header off the coffee table. CALGON! TAKE ME AWAY!!!

Busy and frazzled though I've been, I've had a much better week than the last one. I do appreciate all your lovely comments, and I'm now in the process of learning how to make a perfect vodka martini (thanks for the suggestion, Deb!). When I've unravelled the mystery, I'll post pictures and a recipe!

Here's a glimpse at what the inner workings of my brain look like right now. Prepare for some randomness.
Numero uno, Firstborn and I have a Friday night ritual. After Rosemary's Baby is in bed (he can join us one day. Right now he's just too disruptive.), we grab a snack and have our own little movie night. Lately, Firstborn's movies of choice have been of the Harry Potter variety, which is just fine with me. They're entertaining AND thought-provoking. A few ideas I'd really like to apply to my own life are the house elves (free house cleaning so I can get on with the more important things in life, like crafting and holding impromptu fashion shows in front of my closet. And blogging, of course), floo powder (no having to travel by myself with noisy, naughty kids--I am already dreading my vacation next month), the invisibility cloak (I need a break from my life), and messenger owls (does anyone remember what a handwritten letter even looks like anymore?!).
In other news, I had a mix-up earlier this month when I tried to use Danier's archaic online ordering system. They require you to--get this--PICK UP THE PHONE! I actually had to call it in. What is this? 1976? And then they pick up their phone and have to confirm your credit card information with someone who only speaks French. So, as a result of all this inefficient human interaction, my order got both messed up AND so severely delayed that I thought it had been cancelled. In a rage, I went to the Sears website and ordered the same two items (a leather purse and a pair of gloves). Both orders then showed up on the same day. My luxuries budget is blown until spring. But I can live with that. Here's my new booty:

And finally, I'm starting to think that one of these days, I'm going to log onto one of my news sites, and added to the usual headings (World News, Canada, Health, Local) will be a new, flashy one: Facebook News. Seriously, it is starting to take over the world. But since I can't do anything about it, I'll just let you all know (in case you hadn't heard already) that it's Doppelganger Week! You have to post a picture of a celebrity you've been told you look like. The reason this is so great is that once you post that picture, people will start commenting, telling you that they think you look like some other celebrity. By the end of the day, you'll have been compared to at least 3 unbelievably gorgeous people and your head will be the size of a beach ball. It's exactly what Facebook is all about!

Here's a (dreadful) picture of me:

If you're wondering why my hair looks like it hasn't been touched by a professional since January 2005, just answered your own question. And no, my glasses aren't crooked. My eyes are.

Here are pictures of celebrities I've been compared to:

Ally Sheedy was the big one before I had to start wearing my glasses all the time.

Now, I mostly get Tina Fey.

And, for the first time ever, when I posted the Tina Fey pic, I was told I actually look more like Courtney Cox!

The moral of the story is that I am a babe. At least according to Facebook.
I have no idea when I'll be able to make it back here to post again. If things keep going the way they have, I should be able to churn out about one sentence every 24 hours.
But rest assured, when I do return, I'll probably be complaining about something new.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Is This How Heart Disease Starts?!

By the time Valentine's Day hits, my heart is going to look like that picture they used to show us in health class to stop us from smoking.

I was going about my business in the kitchen on Wednesday afternoon, when I saw an unfamiliar minivan pulling into my driveway and coming from the direction of the base. For a normal person, this would not be a reason for the heart to rise up to four times it's normal rate. But we live in the middle of nowhere, and we almost never get unexpected visitors in unfamiliar cars. The Captain is doing a dangerous job in a dangerous place, and so seeing that van pull in made me panic a little. I sprinted to the door, repeating my mantra: "It's just the Jehovah's Witnesses!" It wasn't, but it wasn't the army either. It was my neighbour swinging in (in his second vehicle, which I never see) to check that all was well with us. We live in a very friendly place.

Then, I was woken up last night around midnight to the phone ringing. Yet another horrible omen. Who calls anyone at midnight with good news? I was groggy and still wearing my night guard (I'm a tooth-grinder) when I got to the phone. But I did have the presence of mind to let my overactive imagination completely run away with me, so by the time I said "Hello?" I was in quite a tizzy. But it was the Captain. He needed an address (there's been paperwork regarding his father's will that he's had to deal with on his very limited downtime there) and couldn't wait until morning to get it from me. I went back to bed, my heart yet again beating a mile a minute.

And finally, this evening as I was getting Rosemary's Baby ready for bed, another unexpected set of headlights appeared in the driveway. This one panicked me the worst. I actually found myself doing breathing exercises on the way to the door this time, absolutely sure I was going to find a couple of uniformed officers on my front step. But it was my neighbour again! Seriously, he usually calls first! But he's doing some spring cleaning, so he had some books for the kids and he was passing, and, well, how can a girl complain when there are free books involved?!

I tell you, I am not an alarmist. We are at about the halfway mark in this tour and I have had a good, confident feeling about it from day one. The Captain will return home safely and life will go on as usual for us, I'm sure of it. This week has just seen me a little edgier than usual. Possibly due to hormones. Or lack of sleep. Or vitamin deficiency. But there's good news too. Do you know what all this heart-racing means? My cardio for the week is DONE!

Now, please point the way to the potato chips...

Sunday, January 17, 2010

I Am A Cougar. Oh God...

I remember when I hit thirty and realized that my doctor, dentist, vet and lawyer were all suddenly younger than me. That I could handle. This, not so much.

With the Captain away, I get to watch any TV I please. What I've wanted to watch lately is The Tudors. When I was eight (and obviously living in England), my class took a trip to the Tower of London. Being a dork, I did lots of reading about it beforehand and convinced myself I was actually going to come face-to-face with the headless spectre of Anne Boleyn. Sadly, that didn't happen. Actually, so very little happened on that school trip that I barely remember it at all. But thanks to the magic of books, I've been rather enamoured with the whole thing ever since. So, I could pretend that I watch this show because I have a scholarly interest in the reformation, the monarchy, and the life of women in Tudor England. But really, it's all about the bodice-ripping.

The Tudors is what the Captain likes to call "a soap opera for nerds", so naturally everyone is unbearably gorgeous. And when I started watching, I came to the conclusion that one of the actors on this show was certainly the hottest thing I had ever seen on this planet. Here is a picture of that actor:

Sex on toast, no?!!

Well, last night, I was avoiding having to let the dogs out and piddling around on Wikipedia when I came across the most horrifying piece of information. This actor (whose name, incidentally, is Henry Cavill) was born in...1983. NINETEEN-EIGHTY-THREE!!

This means that he is a full DECADE younger than me. When this kid was having his umbilical cord cut, I was halfway to figuring out the Rubik's Cube!

This might not sound like much of a problem to the rest of you, but it has made me realize my age. I now have to be very, very careful with my thoughts. I am no longer young enough to just let my head be turned by any old eye-candy that takes my fancy. I am in serious danger of cougardom here. My God! I should be locked up!

So, the creepy ogling of young men on TV will have to come to an end. But for the road, here's one last shot so you can see what he looks like with hair:

ROWR!! Come to mama!

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Why Rocks Make Better Pets

I spent a good hour making a pumpkin pie from scratch last night, using one of the pumpkins from our garden. I left it to cool overnight and then tried a slice for breakfast this morning. It's a good thing that I did.

When I came back out to the kitchen 5 minutes later, I found my pie plate looking mysteriously like this:

And Rusty looking mysteriously like this:

Someone is in grave danger of winning a one-way trip to the hot dog factory...

Saturday, January 9, 2010

TV and Sugar Cereal: An Important Part of a Complete Childhood

Yesterday, I was playing downstairs with my kids when I came across a little tiger finger puppet I'd made for them ages ago. I put it on my finger, wiggled it around and started saying "Frosted Flakes Good? They're Grrrrrreat!"

I expected Firstborn to laugh, but he just looked at me quizzically and asked "Why are you saying that?" And I realized that not having them planted in front of the TV all day has it's downside! Thanks to our refusal to pay for cable TV, and Rosemary's Baby's penchant for breaking the rabbit ears (which aren't really available in stores anymore anyway), my kids are really lacking in pop-culture!

If you too have this disasterous social problem, the good news is that I've taken this opportunity to learn how to embed a video in my posts! Show this cheesy old commercial to your kids. They'll thank you for it later.