Saturday, November 28, 2009

Okay - So I Am Livin' in a Dream World...

Yeah, yeah - I know what yer thinkin' ... whaz up wid the new look?? Dani-fly? Really?

Well - it wouldn't fit any other way ... not really a sessy reason, but the truth. And the pic? A gal can dream, can't she? I am trying the whole 'positive projection' thang... and I positively would love to project THAT image.

So, this is my new look for a while ... and yes, I change my furniture around this often. It would appear I bore easily when it comes to decor - even in cyber space.


Okay, I just hung up the phone from Mr Dragonfly. The conversation was mostly mundane up until this part:

Mr D: Well hun, if you WANT to do some decorating (and no, I didn't) you could always go downstairs and grab that set of bush lights.

Me: Bush lights? *snickers like a pervy teenaged boy*

Mr D: *oblivious* Yeah, you know, the mini lights ... to decorate your bush.

Me: Bahhh haa haa haa haa ... you expect me to DECORATE IT NOW??? Jesus, man ... be grateful you still get to see it now and again!

Mr D: Ha Ha Ha ... you're a funny, funny girl.

Me: Bahh haa haa haa ... whadaya want? A runway there, too?

(We have one of those blow up jobbies (Beavis, she said blow-jobbies) of Snoopy flyin' his dog house in our front yard and Mr D made a runway in flashing lights for him)

Mr D: Heh heh ... the lights might get hot ... I wonder how you'd keep them from getting too hot??

Me: D'uh ... LED's??!!

Mr D: Ahh, right you are ... tha'd make a good Christmas card picture.

Me: Yeah -  I don't see Hallmark picking it up any time soon.

Mr D: You are gonna blog this, aren't you?

Me: Already done, babe.

Mr D: *sighs*

Thus concludes another peek into the sick mind of your friend Danica Dragonfly ... aka Dani-fly (for short, I guess ... or at least in the interest of 'fitting in the allowable space on the unyeilding blog template'.

Smooches! Off to decorate my bush ... er THE bush ... er, string mini lights on the tree like growth in the front yard ...

Friday, November 27, 2009

Cotton Swabs & Crocodile Tears

This morning as I was preparing myself for my day, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror and began the spackle and plaster process. I'm pretty efficient when it comes to getting ready in the morning ... and by efficient, I mean I really don't give a crap lately. It's a sign of the time of year for me  - I don't tend to fare well during this particular time of year (this is not really the subject of my post today, though).

During my prep routine, there is a natural clock in my head that tells me to clean (the shit) out(ta) my ears every three days. I don't do it consciously ... it's a natural reflex-type action. Like my ears suddenly take on an urgent sense about themselves (yes - I have rather obviously ignored the 'resistance' felt upon sticking said cotton swab too far into my ear ... like you didn't already know this).

For the entire time my cat Chloe lived with us, she used to jump up on the counter and insist on being loved while I was getting ready. (The ONLY time of day, mind you) On every 'third' day ... she would have an excitement about her that took a little while for me to figure out. What I learned was that my cat loved cotton swabs. I keep mine in a glass canister with a pull off top. Now and again, I would sit it down on the counter  uncovered. She would reach her pretty little paw inside and retrieve her very own swab. At which point, she'd send it flipping over her body (sometimes over my shoulder) and onto the floor. It was rather funny to watch her playing with one of these things. It gave her great amusement ... not to mention kept her occupied while I finished getting ready.

In the weeks following her demise, I found I missed her most in the mornings. I don't cope well with death (in case anybody hasn't noticed). It's hard for me to get over that sort of loss - even when it is just a pet. She was a part of our every day lives and we all loved her... me above all, I think.

This morning for some crazy reason, the sight of the open Q-tip canister reduced me to a slobbering teary mess. I don't know what prompted the outburst - perhaps just that I was not distracted by getting children ready for school (inservice) ... I'm really unsure why this still effects me so fiercely, but there I was  - blubbering like a ... middle-aged-freak-show-of-a-woman-crying-over-her-dead-cat (I don't know what else cries like that). Make up ruined ... mascara streaking down my cheeks. Purdy.

I don't really have a moral to share here. Just a dumb story so I can say I blogged today. That sadness didn't stick with me too badly throughout my day. I have maintained an impish demeanour for the best part of it. It's been somewhat busy and I have not been able to spend much time reading up on my favorite bloggy peeps. Oh well, there's always tonight :).

I am missing my Americum friends ... I know where Mark is ... and he is excused from this comment ... Spot?? Where you at? Huh? I haven't had to get through two days without you for quite some time ... I'm missin' ya, girl... and Geep? I'm afraid I may have lost Geep.

I know, I know - Thanksgiving is a REALLY BIG DEAL in the States. Here, we get a long weekend (well - some of us do) and stuff ourselves with turkey, ham, stuffing and gravey ... and that's that. We don't get "Black Friday" ... and we certainly don't get any 4 day weekends - EVER... do you hear my jealous??

Anyhoo - I guess that's as much babbling as I'm gonna do today... well here anyway.


Thursday, November 26, 2009

Two Tasks ...

First, I have had another blog award bestowed upon me. I once felt somewhat covet-y ...covet-ous? ... covet-some? ...envious! about these awards. Having said that, I am not so sure  everyone shares that opinion. I notice some of the cooler kids don't display theirs ... what's up with that???

None the less, I will take it (see incurable attention whore) and display it proudly on my page.

Thank you, Eyvi...

7 things about me ... hmmm. I have played this game once before. Can I think of 7 more things of any interest to tell you? Here goes:

1) I can not sleep if there is a drawer or closet door open anywhere in my house (of which I am aware) ... I had recurring nightmares as a child of various ghoulies and all around malevolent entities escaping them.

2) The TP roll MUST roll UNDER! No exceptions. (I wonder why nobody refills the TP at my house???)

3) I do not like tomatoes. I have tried ... sincerely tried to eat tomatoes my entire life ... too much like an eyeball. I like everything made from them ... just has to be run through a blender or food processor first (even salsa - I know ... I am weird)

4) I believe in ghosts. I even had a first hand experience with one.

5) I wanted to be a Marine Biologist when I grew up. (Did I already divulge that?)

6) I have only ever had three actual relationships. I am married to my third ... lived with my second for 5 years and lost my virginity (at 17, I might add) to the first.

7) I used to be involved heavily in competitive horseback riding. Yeppers, placed 1st, 2nd (twice), 3rd (4 times) and 5th a bunch of times. I haven't 'set' a horse in close to 15 years. :(

There you have it - 7 more things you didn't (need to) know about Dani.

I do not remember who all has this award - or who was included on Eyvi's list of nominees ... I am going to send a shout out over to (and bestow my award upon) Amethyst Anne at The Lunch Hour for three reasons, 1) for not killing our friend "X", 2) for inspiring his return to blogging all regular like, and 3) for being such a kick ass writer!

Honestly, I don't follow blogs I don't think are all kinds of awesome ... so if I forgot anyone, and I follow you ... consider yourself "bestowed upon".... 'course that means you must also follow me or you would not know I was bestowing said award - and therefore will not be getting any "awesome" from me ... bastards!

My next order of "bidness" is this video that a dear friend of mine emailed me today. It made me happy in my pants and I thought I would share it with my bloggy buds. I do not know the story behind it, it just made me smile. ***though I will tell you - anyone approaches me in "hug formation" - be prepared to get stuck. I am seriously protective of my "personal space".

Watch Video

Still, it made me happy and I hope it has the same effect on you.

To my 'Americum' friends, I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving - enjoy your turkey ... bitches. To everybody else in the world who shall remain turkey-less (meaning less of turkey) ... well, like me ... it sucks to be you. Wah.

Stay tuned later this evening for another round of "Thank You Very Much Thursday"


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Happy In My Pants & Awaiting My Paddelin'

All is right (well almost still waitin' on Geep...) with my world.

Now I can get back to my day...

Thanks, Admin ...

Here's a funny for the rest of you, since this may not be of interest...

Monday, November 23, 2009

Regarding "Dedicated To ..."

Alright! I totally know I am about to show very bad bloggy form indeed by what I am about to do here ... but it MUST be done, for my paranoid little bean can not handle the snub any longer.

Why is it, that the only two people for whom I professed my cyber-lovin' (on my big ol' sooky post) are noticeably absent from the comments section? Hmmm?

Admin and Geep - I is talkin' to yous.

Too verklempt to respond? So very very touched, you couldn't form the words to express your undying agreement?? Hmm? I am crushing your heads bitches... crushing and crushing (I'm using your profile pictures for this, of course)

Okay - I'm done now. You may continue your regularly scheduled programming at this time.

PS - Exactly WHAT part of attention whore did you people NOT understand?

Watch Video ------>


I started with Kids in the Hall ... but that was waaayyy better :)

Sunday, November 22, 2009


First - I am as full as an egg. Och.

Second, my mother heard those six little words that anyone in my family shudders to hear (see title). See, as previously mentioned, I made lasagna tonight for dinner. I am a decent cook. I am not Julia Childs, but I usually enjoy cooking and therefore, don't do a half bad job. (Bearing in mind that my people would starve to death if I moved out, I am sure) On some items, I am somewhat renound ... my spaghetti, my omlettes, my roast beast.

So, I already said I had to make my own arfin' b-day dinner ... and I was all stoic and mature n' crap about it ... but that was before "the incident". We finished dinner and Mom was picking up dishes off the table and she says (as casual as can be) ... "I don't remember ... I mean, I don't recall it being 'bad' or anything, but I don't remember your lasagna being so ... good". SKANK!!! My eyes narrowed as she was sputtering, trying - to no avail - to suck that sentance back into her head. I said: "That's IT!!! You are SO gettin' blogged."

Noooooooooooo!!!! said she. See, she does not have the address of my blog page, and for good reason. I told her I had no privacy in my house, I was damn well gonna have some on line. Plus I needed somewhere to complain about her ... she didn't care for that a great deal. For those of you just tuning in, Mom moved in with us last fall (08) and it has had more downs than ups ... we are at a truce at present.

This conversation is going on around me as I am sitting here clicking away at the kitchen table:

Hubby: Hun, do you want lasagna for lunch tomorrow.
Me: Uhhhhh ... I guess ... do I have to decide right now?
Hubby: Well, I'll put it in a separate container if you do.
Me: Okay. Sure
Hubby: *pulls massive box shaped plastic bucket out of plastic drawer* This big enough?
Me: Ha Ha - Muther f*cker ... you very funny.
Hubby: *feins hurt look* mumbles under breath *digs out sandwich sized container*
Me: Thank you ...
Hubby: How many pieces do you want?
Me: ...insert incredulous tone - I don't know? I just ate a friggen trough fulla the stuff, can I decide tomorrow?
Hubby: No, I want to know now or you get NOTHING!!
Me: A piece and 5/8ths, please.
Me: Mom? How do you spell Stoic?
Hubby: S-T-O-I-C
Me: Mom?
Hubby: S-T-O-I-C!!
Me: Hunny, I love yer guts ... and you have the cutest little booty EVAH, but it'll be a cold day in hell when I ask YOU how to spell ... anything.
Hubby: Yeah ... I'll remember that if you ever need me as a life line ...
Mom: S-T-O-I-C
Me: Nevermind, I already looked it up.
Mom: Are you fricken typing this?
Mom to Hubby: She's typing this!! Make her stop typing!!
Hubby: Hun, stop blogging us already.
Me: Nuh-uh
Hubby: Stop typing ... you typed "stop typing" ... stop typing, "stop typing"

Okay, I guess this could get old quick.

In closing, my youngest offspring informed me tonight that toilet paper is useless. To which, I informed her that without toilet paper, our bums would stick to our panties ... I really don't know what posesses me to say stuff like that to my children - you just KNOW I'm gettin' a note home from pre-school tomorrow.

I think it would be wise to go and sit still somewhere now ... Mom and hubby are trying to find an email Mom lost on her laptop ... the comedic fodder is going to make my head explode in a minute if I don't leave soon.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

This is dedicated to the one(s) I love .... (gotta sing it)

Yesterday was my 37th birthday.

I was sick for the entire day and mighty worried I was in for a pretty miserable few days. I went to work and did my thing (I know I should have stayed home, but that is not the sort of place I work in) and the gals at my office threw a little lunch time party for me, complete with chinese food and cake ... and card and song and even a gift certificate for a hair-do at a local salon (okay - so you know your "do" is a "don't" when you get a certificate like this from your co-workers... unclench, Eyvi - I know I've been bitching about my hair for months ... I'm just funnin'). To them, I say TYVM ... for making me gain 5 more pounds... no, I'm kiddin' again - I am so touched. Thanks guys - you ROCK!

I don't plan to spend a whole bunch of time yaking about the 'day' itself. It's just that birthdays have a tendancy to cause somewhat of a retrospective thought path ... especially when one is camped out on the couch feeling shitty - not to mention sorry for themselves. To that end, I give you this little glance into the mind of your blog bud Dani.

I have been realizing lately just how much this little cyber friend group has come to mean to me. For a little back ground: When I was a teenager, I had scads of pals and a handful of real friends. I went through stints of big time popularity in junior high only to plunge 'small fish' like into the ocean of high school and suffered the sting of being cast out. As I entered adulthood, the rigors of life seemed to somewhat stand in the way of most of my friendships. There have been a couple that have endured. I guess the point I am having trouble landing on is that my interpersonal relationships are seemingly more work that I want (or am able) to put into them.

And then, I got this fortune cookie that said "the only way to have a good friend is to be one". Up until recently, I might have scoffed at that statement ... as to a select few, I have been a friend of epic proportions... and I can assure you in most cases this was far from reciprocated. I had become somewhat of a "humbug" where 'friendships' were concerned. Enter Eyvi Sprite. (PS - I have left out the "links" intentionally ... just for this post)

It was she who got me into the idea of blogging. She showed me how she set her own page up. For those of you who don't know this already, she's a pretty cool chiquita. I am very grateful to have her as a part of my life. We don't hang out outside of our working relationship, but I consider her to be my friend. She showed me this world of blogging and it was at her continued insistance that I started reading again. Both of these have brought me an immeasurable sense of happiness, and I am eternally grateful to her for being so damned pushy about bringing them to me. :)

 Then the other day, Mark announced he was retiring from writing his blog. I felt physically sick at this thought. Mark's posts are tremendously funny, but also very well written. It is a talent to be able to impart humour through the written word and he does it with finesse. His posts always bring a smile to my face ... and the idea of not reading his thoughts ... on - whatever ... was a very sad prospect, indeed.

This morning, I got up (feeling somewhat better than I had upon going to sleep), said good morning to my family, poured a coffee and proceeded to grab my laptop and head for the kitchen table. Upon entering my google reader, I noticed immediately that Mr. Mark had written a post. My heart actually lept with joy. His post was eloquently written, poignant and not at all funny - but I hung off every word. Imagine that, Mark - even when you are not funny, you still have an audience that awaits -  breath baited (well ... if coffee and the scent of 'morning' counts as baited) for your next offering.

See, Mark is having what he refers to as a "hard time". I would refer to what he is experiencing as blistering pain. I guess perspective is a very powerful tool. I admire him for his strength and even for his desire to escape his situation by entering the blogisphere from time to time ... 1) because somewhere his mind has told him he needs to do so in order to preserve his strength reserves ... and, 2) because he does this by entertaining all us "Bleaks" (that's my newly coined word for bloggy geeks and freaks ... and YEAH - I stole it from a show I don't even watch). I won't go on anymore about him, since he'll likely hunt me down and drown me in some toilet water, but he was the biggest inspiration for this post (today, at least). Mark, I think you have a heart the size of Texas and I am better for having had the chance to meet you. Please don't scare me like that again.

Then there is Admin. Oh man - I have a serious cyber crush on him and all his stabby goodness. (Don't worry, man - stalking takes too much time away from lazing around on the couch - you are safe as a bug in a rug) Doran's posts are so full of good stuff that they pretty much defy description. He can be vile and down right evil by times, but his writing talent is blinding (and although I may have to live in fear of violent and bloody retribution at his hands for having said so, it is glaringly obvious that his heart is as big as the Great White North). To each and every one of his words I cling, as though savouring that last bite of turtle cheesecake ... I know it's not good for me, but I simply have to have more.

Spot, you are a rock star. There is just no other way to sum it up. You are like Uber Mom  .. and  side splittingly funny ... and that friggen family of yours cracks me up ... and then there is that talent of yours ... geez. You are someone to aspire to. Plus you were the first person who started following my blog that I didn't know personally or hadn't started following first. That was super cool. Thank you for that.

Cynica, I met you through Mark's blog  -drawn in by your screen name ... I mean who wouldn't be drawn to a name like Cynica Sarcastimos??? And you do not dissapoint. You are a seriously cool chiquita, too... and not just because your husband works for National Geographic, though I have to admit that is freakin' cool. Your writing is awesome to read. It is crazy to meet so many people who have this talent ... this incredible talent and they are not being published. Seems like a crime in so many ways.

Cindy Lou - I have loved you for most of my life. This is merely a way for us to share something we have always both had an interest in ... 'course, as ever- I pale in comparison ... but I wanted to say so here, since I do not do a very good job of keeping touch with you anywhere else. You are always in my heart.

Meeko Fabulous ... you are the bestest bitch I know! I can't even tell you how many times you have made me cry with laughter. You are seriously fab-U-lous in every way that I know you. I'm so happy I found your blog.

And Geep. I don't know you (obviously), I know only the things you post on your blog. I know your slick witted humour and your incredibly sage insight and depth of intelligence on a broad range of topic-ry (yes, my name is Dani, and I like to make up words). I think you'll roll your eyes at me 'cause I ... well I have a crush on you too. Yep - that's how twisted I am ... you and Doran, together - my ideal man. Wow - I need to ask for my therapy money back. Seriously, though ... you are a cool dude in a loose mood and I really enjoy reading your stuff too.

Brite - your taste in music ROCKS the CASBAH! I haven't read a huge amount of your writing, but look forward to anything you do write on other blogs n such. It's awesome to me to be making friends literally all over the world ... yes, I know how bad my geek just shone through that statement.

I'll finish off with Xtreme. Dude, you don't write often enough. I think your sense of ha ha is bang on. I also respect you in ways that you'll never know for writing that post about your wife. That was wicked cool of you. (Coming from a fellow wife .. and self proclaimed Bleak, that may not be taken as a compliment - but it is sure meant as one.) I want more - more - more (typical woman) of you and all your Princess Bride watchin' glory. Very happy to have read what I have so far, though. Now - stack up the orange pylons and wrap up construction already!! I miss you.

I have written this in no particular order except how my river of crazy flows ... if I have forgotten to mention someone, it is more than likely just because you maybe haven't written in a while and didn't make it into my conscious thoughts while I was typing ... not at all because I don't thoroughly love to read you and enjoy your own brand of blogging. I am ever grateful to have found this medium and all of you.

You make me happy in the pants :) ... perhaps most of you in parts a little farther North of said pants ... but happy none the less! ***Why is it that I can not pull that statement off??? Am I sayin' it wrong or something? A little help, D - if you are still awake and reading...

Just wanted to take a minute ... okay - an hour and a half to say so.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Ahhh Thank You Very Much Thursday

This could easily be my favorite day of the week!

Why? You may (or may not) ask. Well, I'm sure it won't shock your socks off to learn I intend to tell you. So sit down, shut up and hang on... (Geez - I could make Supah's White Trash list yet ...) I love Thursdays because it's almost Friday ... like Christmas Eve is almost Christmas ... and because my three favorite shows come on tonight ... and because ... er, see below.

Without further ado, it's time for another round of  *does drum roll on desk that I am supposed to be doing real work on at moment* Thank You Very Much Thursday

TYVM Diana Gabaldon - for creating Jamie Fraser's character, completely blowing my husband's chances for effective coupling until he can master a Scot's accent.

TYVM Stretch - for asking Mommy if she carried a baby in her bum as well as her belly (after noticing one was as flabby as the other) ... honey, you are swell.

TYVM Shorty - for making Mommy blow milk out her nose when you casually informed me that your booster seat nolonger fit 'your little booty'.

TYVM Regional metting yesterday - for boring me so thoroughly, I was actually grateful to come back to work this morning.

TYVM Real Estate Agents who share our building - for just being you ... in all your twat-waffle-esc  (waffle-y? Oh you get my message) glory. Also, for clearing a path of enlightenment thru which one can witness what sheer self indulgence and perceived entitlement really look like ... also for being mean to my only kindred spirit in this hole of hell... and for being so loud, also.

TYVM Daughters of mine - for invading and subsequently conquering my bed :(

TYVM Co worker who peed on the floor in my bathroom again - for ... uhhh weren't you paying attention??? PEEING ON THE FLOOR IN MY BATHROOM!!!

TYVM Narci - for not joining us at the regional meeting ... no I really mean this one.

TYVM Week - for being over ... no wait, that only applies to my daughter .... aaahhhhh!!!

And that, folks wraps up another installment of TYVM Thursday (d'ya think I have said it enough times? Well ... typed it ... but I am saying it inside my head ... so does that count as saying it?  Yeah, it counts - I laugh at my own jokes out loud).

*prepares best "game show host" voice*

Tune in again next week to hear yet a little bit more about the very same topics!

Enjoy, all!! (Yes, that was exclamation point worthy!!)


For My Budski, Mark

Today, I am supposed to be busily catching up on all the work I missed yesterday while on course.

I will maybe write a post later, but for now I will take just two minutes and pass on an award I totally stole off someone else's page and bestow it upon Mark. You can visit Mark at The Screenplay, but he is taking a little hiatus for right now.

This one is for you!

Display it with pride ... and you don't have to do a single thing with it, except know that I really mean it.


Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Now, The "Bisitors" Will Know I Was Here...

It would seem I have myself somewhat of a talented dog.

Yup, he's a regular Rembrant with his fecal offerings. Why just the other day, I was greeted in my driveway (directly in front of my tenants' preferred door, I may add) by the most spectacular site.

While I realize this is somewhat a Canadian thing, it is my hope that at minimum, with the onslaught of the Olympic Ceremonies, you'll all have some knowledge of what this creature is. An Inukshuk. It's purpose? To signal the inhabitation of human life forms.

It would seem, my dog has rendered his own homage to this figure - by way of what I lovingly refer to as an Inukshit. I SHIT YOU NOT!!! I would've gotten a photo, but my husband creamed it into the pavement of our driveway in his haste to get to work on time. An error I'm certain he soon regretted by the apparent ripened state of said molding material.

I couldn't make this stuff up, people.

I am curious if our tenants (or bisitors as Shorty so lovingly refers to them) got the general point? I got a good chuckle out of it. Sucker was a foot and a half high if it was an inch!!!

Ahh, the humour of every day life in the Dragonfly house never ceases. We should go on tour ... nah, that sounds too much like work.

Enjoy your Tuesday!


Monday, November 16, 2009

Dani Got Her Groove Back

I suppose all will be happy to hear that my funk has passed ... for now.

I am back on speaking terms with my boy. I really hope that does not happen again. I need him to have my back ... I simply can not do this if he's on the outside too. But we are much better now.

I think my tenants' relationship may have ended last night. One of them (the one with the car ... oh - and the job) left and hasn't been back. I wouldn't know all of this except that my hubby was in the basement clearing up after our latest painting job and when you are in the basement, the noise from the apartment travels. So does the smell of smoke ... but not 'regular' smoke, in this case.

I really can't believe how non-observant I am getting. I smelled that smoke on a half dozen occasions and knew it had an oddness about it ... but it didn't occur to me until my Mom mentioned speaking with "her" and how she seemed kinda ... spacey. BLINK!!! On came the lights. Just how much pot did I smoke in my 20's that I don't recollect the pungent aroma of it? D'uh.

Sigh ... I guess I am going to have to have a conversation with the "bisiters" some night this week. I need to be sure I'll be getting rent. I also need to be sure if they plan to stay or go. I have someone else interested, but I just don't feel overly great about this. Why can't SOMETHING just work as planned?

So ... I know the burning question on everyone's mind (and by everyone, I mean Mark, of course) WTH have I been? It's not all that sexy of a story ... well there is that one part, but ... I skipped out on blogging Thursday and Friday because I was tired of hearing myself whine and I just couldn't subject anyone else to it ... and that geezly happy spot of mine remained ever elusive. By Saturday, I was in better spirits and you very likely would have heard from me ... EXCEPT ... I had no internet. Wanna know why? Too late, I'ma tellin' ya anyway. My husband, that's why. Bearing in mind that I do not require our internet in order to work - as he does. All I use it for is surfing and blogging and looking up the occasional tid-bit of information for my eldest when she stumps this chump.

I have mentioned on a number of occasions that we are having financial difficulties. I think I have even gone so far as to speak the evil "B" word ... which we have also done. There were some residual utility accounts that had been behind and a call was necessitated in order to make arrangements to settle up in the interest of keeping ... say ... lights turned on ... or internet, that my husband could work - thusly continuing to receive a pay cheque. You follow? I bestowed this task on my boy. It was a simple request - so thought I.

He made an arrangement with the company that carries our internet, cable and phone to pay a lump sum of x dollars. He told me about it and I said that was going to be tough, but I would come up with it somehow  - we are good then, though - right? He agreed and I went about setting up the lump sum and then splitting the normal monthly amount between the two pays and bada bing - Bob's yer uncle ... right? Wrong! He promised them another $100.00 per week (we get paid bi weekly, FYI) and never told me. Here, I was making the half payments, thinking everything was hunky dorey fine and then Friday evening ... no digital cable. Huh - that's odd. We had the non digital in the other rooms (FYI - only reason we have digital is because it was cheaper to take the package than to go with regular). I didn't really care, the kids had their TV - I was reading, so it bothered me not. When he got home I mentioned it and after some rummaging around, he realized they had cut off some of our services - leaving the phone and the regular cable. Weird. Anyway, he set about trying to get it straightened out and by this afternoon finally did. What a dumbass!

Some days ... I could reach out and jap-slap him. Who makes payment arrangements and then neglects to mention the details to the person who actually PAYS the bills? I know, I know - it is one more thing that I must add back to my list of responsibilities. I have only myself to blame.

Sooo - I am back in the saddle. Tired as hell - namely because of the goings on in my bed last night ... no, don't worry - I'll not be regaling you with torrid images of mating dragonflies ... no - I'm going to talk about my dependants - well, four of the five, anyway. It started with my Shorty. She arrived in my bed at her usual 2:00ish am. She normally gets into bed and I don't even wake anymore - last night, however was different. Namely because her father was near shaking the bed snoring. I sleep soundly enough lately that it wouldn't have bothered me ... except ... she woke me up to speak to him about the noise. I told her to go back to her own bed - but this, she would not have ... so I poked him in the ribs, he rolled over and we all went back to sleep. Then ... around quarter of 4, Stretch comes sailing into our room, screaming like a banshee. She scared the bejesus out of the three of us and then hubby instructed her to climb into bed - on my side. I directed her to the middle - just on the other side of Shorty. Here's what happened next:

Shorty: Aahhh ... STRETCH!!! You are touchin' me!
Stretch: AM NOT!
Hubby: GIRLS!
Stretch: Shorrrr-teee THAT HURTS ... WAAAHHHHHHH!!!
Hubby: Stop crying, Stretch - Shorty say you are sorry
Shorty: Sorry, Stretch. *grins evil grin into darkness, though both Stretch and I can sense it*

Shorty and Stretch in unisen: whine-whine-whine-whine-whine-whine-whine
Hubby: Sigh *gets out of bed*
Me: I was NOT talking to you ... you may stay. It's the short ones must go.
Hubby: No - it's easier if I go with Stretch *takes eldest whining child back to her room*

A little time passes ... Hubby comes back to bed *resumes shaking the foundation of the house*

Cooper-dawg: Hach, belch, barf, barf ... oh what a relief it is.

Me: *pulls covers over head*

A little more time passes - it is now approximately 5 am. I have to pee. I am stupefied. I go staggering into the adjoining bathroom and ... SQUISH ... "AW FUCK!!!" That's what I get for ignoring my motherly duties. Still didn't clean it up off the floor, though. Just my foot ... ewww.

At 6:00 am, Stretch woke me again. She was screaming bloody blue murder from her bedroom. (Nightmares - I was accosted with them as a child too) I call her downstairs and put her in the livingroom - yup, you guessed it ... in front of the TV - and went back to bed to salvage the last 35 minutes of sleep before I HAD to be up.

Poor me.

On another note, Mom bought me paint for my birthday and I painted my living room and I LOVE IT!! I know, I am pathetic ... getting paint for my birthday - it's the second year in a row, too. Last year she bought my kitchen paint. I figure I'll be somewhere in my fifties by the time I get the rest of the house painted.


I'm over here at Meeko's today - come visit


Come visit.


I'm the Sweetest ... Mmkay

Wowzers ... I hardly feel deserving at present.

Marky Mark has awarded me with the preceding accolade for my "sweetness"???

Uhhh ... thanks Mark? Have you READ my blog? Ever? I'm not sweet. I'm actually borderline vile ... full of vitriol and rage. Like ... my sweet cake would have smashed light bulbs and anti freeze in it. Know what I'm sayin'??? I might steal your cupcake and lick all the icing off it and hand it back to you ... fully infected with a trail from my acid tongue ... yeah - that sounds like me...

I mean I'm totally taking it - 'cause let's face it ... I'm an attention whore of epic proportions ... but ... REALLY? I'm the SWEETEST??

Ah well ... I am sure Mark is referring to my sweet, sweet passionate ranting - that must be it.

Either way, I thank you - for thinking of me and am as touched and honored as if I had won Miss Congeniality at the local beauty pagent ... *laughs cynically to self*

I may need to think about whether or not I am willing to share my spoils ... therefore, you must wait for another post to find out!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Somewhere Down the Crazy River

***Since it is No Whining Wednesday, I will regale you with a mindless story from my youth - I wrote this while inebriated, so please consider the source.  

When I was a kid, one of my closest friends was Clarke. He was actually pretty hot stuff - looked like a taller, more beefy version of Ralph Macchio (ya know - the Karate Kid) - but he was family to me.

Clarke never once entered our house by using a door. He always came in through my bedroom window. It was not unusual for him to trek across the road in the morning (in summer, of course) pop my window open and crawl right into bed with me. I know what you are thinking, but it was as though my mom viewed him as a unik or something. She never even flinched when he'd come up to the kitchen with me in the mornings. He used to grab my hand when he had an itch and "scratch himself" with it - and Mom would just laugh. Looking back, I think she was nuts to let him treat her teen aged daughter like that, but as I said - he was family to us.

Anyhoo - Clarke and I were like two peas in a pod. We hung out all the time ... went to movies every Tuesday night in the summer - we were great buds ... until I started dating close to his circle. Things got a little ugly then. He was seriously jealous. I mean he was a man whore ... I would equate him to a Joey Tribianni. A mimbo, even. But if one of his boys so much as raised an eyebrow in my direction, they could expect a beating from him ... and he was a competitive boxer, so it wasn't an idle threat.

When I was around 15, I had myself a bit of a stalker. He wasn't dangerous, but he spent way too much time camped outside my house at night in hopes I would get changed with the lights on and curtains open. Clarke found out about it ... sprinted to buddy's house, pounded the livin' shit outta him and then sprinted back. He stopped at my house on his way home. His hand was bleeding. I asked him what had happened and he told me "Duffus" wouldn't be bothering me anymore. I had no idea what had been going on, but once he told me, I had a hard time being mad at him for protecting my virtue. And protect it, he did. Vehemently. The boys in my home town got the message loud and clear after that little incident - touch Dani ... at your own risk.

At one point, he hung around with a guy by the name of Jack. Jack was dreamy. I'm talkin' muffin-butterin' dreamy here. He was the triple threat: Handsome/Funny/Chivalrous. He too, was a mimbo - but I failed to see that. He and Clarke hung out quite a bit, and that brought Jack directly into my life. In my world, we had every toy known to man (or boy, for that matter). There was the pool table in the garage, the weed stash in the tool box, the ATV, the snowmobiles, the boats, canoes, video games, satellite dishes - you need to remember that this would have been more than 20 years ago - this stuff was not so common place then.

The long and the short of it was, I tended to have guys hanging around. Jack was different, though. I had a serious crush on him. This one late summer day, he and Clarke came over. They wanted to take the canoe out exploring the lake (which I lived on). I said that I was in and we were off. ** side bar - I was the 'condition' that came with enjoying the 'stuff.' ** We paddled to the other side of the lake ... well - they paddled, I sat in the middle of the canoe like Cleo fricken Patra. Another benefit of being the spoiled kid with all the stuff.

It was then that we discovered the river.

It seemed like a good idea to go into the river. I mean we had all lived in the area forever - what could go wrong?? We made it in quite a ways before the going started getting hard. I was not wearing shoes ... so when the time came to get out of the canoe and walk ... well, I was not able to do so. It was then that Jack carried me. Bear in mind that I was like 15 ... and he would have been roughly 17. I mean ... to say I was smitten would be quite an understatement. I would have borne his children at that very moment had he asked me. He didn't, mind you ... but I woulda.

We ended up getting further and further in and eventually had to abandon the canoe. We walked for a really long time over some pretty rocky terrain before we stumbled onto civilization again. It was dark by the time we made it to the house where we wound up using a phone and calling my parents to come and pick us up.

At the end of the day, it wound up being okay, but there were moments during our journey that I felt certain Jack and I would need to re-populate the world... and I was ready (not to mention willing).

After that day, I think Clarke caught on to my crush ... and Jack came around less and less. It was heartbreaking for me (for a week). I felt certain I would never love again. Months passed and loves came and went, but Clarke stayed. I loved him like a big brother ... hated him the same way.

Clarke married a gal that detests me. She's crazy jealous and I have been banned from his life. He has three daughters with her - which is fitting. If he had 10 kids, I feel certain they would each be gorgeous girls (as are his three). Seems only fair that he should suffer the fate of a father of gorgeous girls. I have to smile. Though, I must say - I miss him terribly.

To this day, I can not hear the song "Somewhere Down the Crazy River" by Robbie Robertson and not be transported to this day. It will live in my heart in the corridors of aqua-marine tinged memories of a life lived more simply.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

When a Simple Sorry Doesn't Cut It...

Should I email Hallmark?

Monday, November 2, 2009

Lessons from Shorty n Stretch

Somebody call 911!!

On Friday evening, as my lady-bugs and I made our way home, I had popped a CD into the player in the car and half of a recent Billboard Top 100 began to play. (Thanks, Eyvi - BTW). My girls are pretty interested in music (no surprise there, really) and usually enjoy that type on our commute. We listened to a few of my favs ... they rocked out to some 'Peas' ... "Tonight's Gonna Be A Good Night" and "Boom Boom Pow" were big hits ... they also really like "Say Hey" (Michael Franti) ... but then (as we were nearing the house) Sean Kingston's new song came on. For anyone who has an interest in hearing it, you can follow this link: Call 911 (dumb-ass video, though)

Well! "Bee" ... aka, "Shorty" (a nick name given long before I realized it was the new call name for a chick by hip hop singers...) pipes up and say (rather emphatically, I might add) "Hmph ... this is a bad song! You can't just call 911 whenever you want... he's bad ... the police will be cross with him for calling 911. Mommy, is 'shorty' really on fire??? Can you catch on fire just from dancing?" I will point out that this child is FOUR ... and this was the first time she had ever heard this song.

I assured her that nobody was on fire, for realz and then explained what 'figure of speech' means. She gnawed on that for the rest of the night and by Saturday morning was walking around the house singing the chorus and explaining to the degus and the dog that nobody was actually on fire... ergo - no call to 911 was necessary.

Then yesterday, we had a load of wood delivered to our yard. It came in eight foot lengths, so it pretty much still looked like trees. Shorty was fascinated with the whole process - the delivery, the 'dumping' of the wood onto their sand pile ... the big truck. She was enthralled, really. After the truck left, she ran to the other end of the house to retrieve her sister, "Bug" (aka Stretch - in oppostion to Shorty, of course). A few minutes and some mild scrapping later, Stretch came out with Shorty and proceeded to go and look out into the yard.

The last thing I heard was a deep sigh, before she launched into her litany about the environment - aghast at the fact that we would cut down trees ... LIVING TREES just to burn for our own selfish reasons ... WRONG - WRONG - WRONG. Shorty was explaining that we needed the wood from the trees to keep our house warm in the winter, but Stretch didn't want any part of that ... nope ... her response (which she planted firmly over her sister's pleas) was that "the needs of the environment surpass the needs of our family" ... great, I gave birth to a tree hugger.

Not that I am not environmentally minded. I really do try to reduce energy consumption and recycle, and compost. I spent the next HOUR of my day explaining the difference between the oil we are currently burning and the concept of using wood instead. Now, she runs around turning the heat off - as we are heathen-ous destroyers of Earth with our oil and our wood fires.

Don't get me wrong, I am way proud of her. It has had an impact on her consumption of electricity as well as her wardrobe choice while inside the house. She has now become the slipper and blanket police. I have a funny feeling that may change once we start dipping below 0 degrees celcius every night ... but it is a good lesson, I suppose.

All in all ... I guess somewhere we are doing something right where rearing offspring is concerned. They are socially and environmentally aware ... so if we could dial down the annoying a titch - we'd be all set!! *pats self on back for job done well*.

Off you go, to have your day - armed with the lessons learned from Dani's offspring ... it's a public service, this blog of mine *smiles big saucy smile*.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Allow me to introduce the clown I married...

This would be the Dragonfly family Halloween outing. Lemme just point out the fact that I have an unholy fear of clowns ... I'm just sayin'. Scary nightmares for me last night ... well, except for:

The spoils of Halloween.
With the kids safely in their candy induced comas, me an the clown did some chemical relaxin' ... and pillaging of the kidlett's candy :) ... in the name of safety, of course.

Well ... Halloween under our belts (quite literally, I'm afraid) on to my FAV holiday ... bring on HO HO!!