Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Far Side of the Mornings


Every so often, Malcolm and I carpool into work together. On those days, I have to get up extra early and by the time I get to the office after dropping Malcolm off, not only does my body still want my bed, but my brain needs a rest too. On the way in to our workplaces, we listen to AM 640 in his car. At that time in the morning, the John Oakley show is on and that guy has always got an interesting topic of some sort or another. Whatever it may be, Malcolm and I (I still in a half-sleeping daze) listen to the questions and the callers and share our own takes on them.

Should the landscapers who had their snowplow stolen and used to run down that officer be charged with idling? (HELL, yeah!) Should the Minister of whatever-it-was step down after vetoing funds to certain organizations (something she totally has the authority and DUTY to do) which saved the government millions of dollars but which she initially denied? (Yeah, she should—she was probably good at crunching the numbers, but not of a strong enough character to lead a portion of our government.) Should the guy who had a hand in the assassination of the founding father of Bangladesh, who now resides in a condo in Etobicoke, be extradited from Canada back to his country where he faces the death penalty? (Yes. The man is a murderer. Would you like to know your neighbour is a murderer and that the Canadian government is not doing anything to see this man punished? Okay, so we don’t want to send the man to his death—though Amnesty International says it was a fair trial in absentia—but we can’t just let him wander free…then all criminals facing the death penalty for their crimes in their countries will just run here.)

So I leave the house physically exhausted only to arrive at the office mentally drained. But dang me if it isn’t great conversation.

Side Note: Gary Larson rocks. I'm fairly confident that I’ve read every last one of his Far Side Galleries. They’re great.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Spicy love

Mom handed me a bag the other day.

    "A Valentine's present for you guys, just in case we don't see you before Monday."

I brought it home, but forgot to tell Malcolm what the gift was all about, so he accidentally peeked a little early (it was in a Christmas gift bag), but I'm SO glad he did.

Look!




Aren't they cute?!

Not only are they adorably unique salt and pepper shakers, but the kitty looks like Moo! Perfect. :)

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Super skin

With the amount of skin that I shed in a single day, I swear you could build another human shell out of it. It's ridiculous.

Skin and I are not friends at the moment. We're working on re-building our relationship, but it's still tense at best.

To make myself feel better about all the eczema and shedding of skin, I have convinced myself that I have a small superpower to explain it with: I have the ability to grow skin at 10x the normal speed. This explains why I can shed so much and still not be a walking being of just exposed muscle. And because I grow skin so fast, I have to shed it, otherwise it will just amass into a super-coating of shell-like quality, restricting my free movement.

It's tough being a super-human. Really tough.
...

Update - 12:40am

I was driving home and remembered that when I was little, I used to also believe that my skin was trying to transform in to scales since I was so good at swimming. It only made sense. I used to even have a little line of what looked like scales on my arm. They're still there, but they only show up when they get lots of sun...which I seem to be allergic to now, so unfortunately I can't show you just now. :(

Smooth

Brodder posted this on his FB page awhile ago, but I just discovered it. Cooool.

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

ALOT of Spiders

Notes:
  1. This is taken directly from an email thread between me and ehbaba.
  2. "ALOT" and "Spiders" stem from Allie Brosh's blog, Hyperbole and a Half - please visit her site on my sidebar (and I will probably add more links when my battery isn't dying).
  3. 27bslash6 is another link on my sidebar--please visit!
  4. ehbaba and her hubby HS ("Hamburger Smasher", as named by ehbaba) are currently residing in Australia.
There. I think the rest will make sense.

...

From: ehbaba
To: melody
Subject: Spiders


have you read the 'spiders' post on hyperbole and a half?

lubbed it (specifically "i'd be all...no" and "defects")

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From: ehbaba
To: melody
Subject: ALOT


ok alot is even better

am i giving you a play by play of my blog reading lunch hour?

yes.

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From: melody
To: ehbaba
Subject: Re: ALOT


LoL Awesome.

Spiders: that's why I liked the 27bslash6 post about AUS/US. "If I am reincarnated as a spider, I will bite myself and not seek medical assistance" and "In Australia, the presence of a spider involves combat gear and improvised weapons."

Did I ever tell you about Brodder and I killing centipedes at home? Centipedes are too big to be killed with a wad of tissue, but too fast/creepy to be left alone and ignored in a corner of the room. If the vacuum cleaner wasn't readily handy, then we would take a shoe and just smash the sucker flat in one swift swat...and then leave it. Just because it was dead didn't mean it stopped feeling gross to the touch through a wad of tissue. The idea was that after smashing it, we'd go and get the vacuum at our leisure and suck it up off the floor/shoe, but sometimes it was a while before we got around to it.

Word to the wise: if you ever see a shoe just chilling in a random place on the floor at my parents' house, chances are there's something squished beneath it.

LoL

I think I'm going to post that. :)

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From: ehbaba
To: melody
Subject: Re: Re: ALOT


Awesome. Post.

HS's way to combat cockroaches and things that look like cockroahces (e.g. a really dark/black grasshopper) is to hairspray it to death/an immobolised state.

(side note: our place is clean but cockroaches are just everywhere and come in from the outdoors...we actually walk by them on sidewalks and parks and shit and it isn't dirty or anything?!?!?!)

We always have to have some cheap no name hairspray on hand. Cockroaches are resilient and FAST so it takes 30s of constant spraying to do them in. One time in the old apartment, we caught one in the bathtub that just came up through the drain. He was cornered. HS sprayed him but didn't want to deal with picking him up and tossing him in the garbage (we were rushing to get out the door and go to work). Inexplicably, he thought pouring Draino on it would be a better way of dealing with it. When we got back that night, the cockroach LIQUEFIED. Fully made it worse to pick up.

Recently, HS tried to use some all purpose cleaner to discourage miniature ants from trying to get in through the window frame. It didn't really work. While the first batch of ants scurried off, more were coming back (or the same ones...ants all look the same to me). Maybe they liked the citrus scent? So I suggested using BAM bathroom/tile cleaner. That stuff is POTENT. Not only did all the ants scurry away, the chemical fumes burned the inside of my nose for about 5 minutes. So later the same night, when HS saw a grasshopper disguised as a cockroach, he attacked it with his entire arsenal. With his hairspray in one hand and BAM in the other, he double-whammied the poor sucker and it was dead in no time. Then instantly we felt bad because we only kill cockroaches and try to let moths, grasshoppers, and daddy long legs live. We didn't even realise it was a grasshopper until it was trying to jump away from the BAM sprays. But by then it was too late. :(

---------

From: ehbaba
To: melody
Subject: Re: Re: Re: ALOT


edit

the cockroach didn't liquefy
it turned gelatinous

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From: melody
To: ehbaba
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: ALOT


gggggrrrroooooooossssssss!

But in an awesome sort of way.

Apparently lines of talcum powder keep ants away. They won't cross it...? My cousins did it at their place...they'd just had a new baby so they had tons of baby powder to try it with. Tell me if it works. If not, I guess good luck with the BAM.

I like that you capitalized BAM every time. :)

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From: ehbaba
To: melody
Subject: Re: Re: Re: ALOT


good tip
i have baby powder...will definitely try that

Being a gas

I don't know if you know, but Costco's opened gas bars at select locations and the Costco member population's gone nuts for them. Understandably--you can save like, 4 cents a litre! So the line-ups for gas are, of course, ridiculous. Luckily, Costco's planned for that and has introduced a new, extremely valuable, indispensable line of careers.

The Costco gas bar attendants.

A field dominated by men (I've seen but one lone female there), these are the most under appreciated but toughest group of guys around. Standing outdoors for hours on end in minus to the nth degree temperature, they are there to direct traffic around the bar, to guide people to the pumps, to help members with their card authorizations (because you have to have a membership card and there's no paying with cash), and finally wish you well on your way afterwards.

Let's give it up for these guys (and girl)!

They have kept order more than once while I've been in line, and I just thought a little shout out to them is the least that they deserve.

Blondie
(He had a toque on, but you could see the little blonde wisps sticking out the sides--and his drawl just screamed surfer dude.)

I am not one of those members that fiddles very much with the pump or card reader--I get in and get out as efficiently as I can every time. Even so. One evening I was filling up after work and while I was working the card reader, Blondie came over to check on me. While I waited for my membership to authorize, he opened up my gas tank and while I pressed the button to pick my grade of gas he stuck the nozzle in and started pummping. He also showed me that these pumps had that little auto-switch so that you didn't have to hold the nozzle while pumping.

"Oh, I thought those weren't allowed on gas pumps anymore?"
"These are American pumps so they still have them. And there are so many attendants around that spills are rare but we can be there right away to clean them up. Well, you have a nice ev'ning, miss."

Thanks.


Mr. Ecco
(He's not as tall, he's definitely not Lost, but he's just as dark and still built like a tank.)

Mr. Ecco doesn't speak much, but whenever he makes eye contact with you, his eyes ask you if you need help and if your eyes tell him you're okay, he gives you a curt nod and continues his patrol of the gas bar.

There was one time where I pulled into the first pump and a silver Toyota Camry came around me a second later to pull into the second pump in front of me. He wasn't very good at backing into the space, but he did his best, and after a quick venture from his front seat to check, he figured he'd done alright and he and his bluetooth headset started to pump gas into his awkwardly angled car.

There is only one direction for traffic to pull in and out of the pump lanes. There is only one driveway next to the lanes to exit by. Having finished pumping my gas, I went to leave...and couldn't. (Ready for it?) The Chinese guy driving the silver Toyota Camry who was talking on his bluetooth headset turned out to be a bad driver and had blocked me in by angling his car too far into the driveway.

Mr. Ecco saw me not going anywhere in my car and came over because he thought I needed guidance out. His eyes connected with mine, but mine told him it wasn't my fault. He took one look at the situation, and without a word, stared down the dude in front until you could tell the guy just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. That stare was priceless.

When the guy had finished filling up and finally got out of the way, Mr. Ecco just turned away, shook his head and laughed.


Tag Team
(I dunno what else to call him...he was part of a team!)

So with everyone wanting cheap gas, the lineups tend to get pretty ridiculous. However, because of those valiant gas attendants, there is a method to the madness. There are attendants every step of the way from the moment you turn into the Costco parking lot to guide you through until you're in your precious spot in line for gas.

Thank goodness.

The other day, I was in line, inching my way along in the orderly fashion that was dictated by all the attendants when all of a sudden, there appeared a car a little too close to me in the passing lane on my left. It wasn't until the car behind me started honking that I realized that this woman was trying to cut in line in front of me! Well, 3 children in the backseat with a million other errands to run or not, I was NOT pleased at what this woman was attempting to do.

Thankfully, I didn't have to kill her.

Tag Team, who had been directing traffic up until then, had taken notice of the honking and had come over to investigate. As soon as he saw what she was trying to do, he planted himself directly in her way with his arms crossed so she couldn't butt her way in. I thought it was brave of him as the look in her eyes showed the desperation of the weary caregiver--again, with 3 kids in the back and a million other errands to run--I swear she was calculating whether or not she could get away with just mowing him over.

Then backup arrived.

With his silent but vocal eyes, Mr. Ecco tapped on the woman's window. She didn't open it, but that was okay--Mr. Ecco's eyes told her all she needed to know. She threw one last longingful look at Tag Team (who hadn't moved a muscle), and reluctantly drove away.

Thank you, Costco, for cheap gas, but thank you even more, for those gas attendants.

Thursday, February 03, 2011

Opposites

Dear Malcolm,

I love you so much--Happy Birthday, babe!

mel

----------

Dear Skin,

I hate you.

mel

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

Quote of the Moment:

Libia and I were standing by her boyfriend's car, talking, when her boyfriend changed directions and chased Malcolm over to his car to ask him about his Thule instead of unlocking the doors for us.

    "Hang on, I just want to go check out this guy's rack."

He made it two more steps before he and I both realized what he said and nearly collapsed at the same time into the snow, laughing. When we'd finally managed to gain a few ounces of control over our laughter, he managed to eke out:

    "'Check out his rack'--that was perfect."