Wednesday, October 7, 2009

The Morning After...

Last night I tweeted about the extent of my 16 hour day.

Twitter / Home: "naomijesson busyday park, McD's, gymnastics, park, coffee, McJournal, laundry, dinner, kisses, school, group work, run 4.3 mi, milk run, blog, tweet&fb"

I quietly signed off but really that wasn't the end of the day.

During my 20 minutes-to-Midnight grocery shop at Shopper's Drug Mart, I lucked out and bought more than the milk I was going for.

When Shopper's has a sale, they have a SALE! I can't believe how cheap I got the kids Kashi crackers, and the Triscuit Thin Crisps, less than 50% off, SERIOUSLY. All while racking up a bunch of Optimum points, the reason for my ginormous wallet I lug around, cards baby, cards.

While winding down from our little 4.3 miler, I was on the laptop catching up on the cyber-world and I had proceeded to eat some Lay's Salt n' Vinegar potato chips that somehow snuck in with my other finds, I mean 2 for $5.00, how can I say NO.

One blog post later and I realized, OhMyGod I ate the WHOLE BAG.

I mean a WHOLE bag, all 235g, you can bet I am not putting that in my Lose It app.

All my runs, eating so healthy and light all week, and then I blow it on cyber-eating. I guiltily crumpled up the empty bag, when I heard the Man stamping down the stairs, wondering if I was EVER going to bed.

I went to bed.

The next morning was fine, got ready, went downstairs, and then I noticed the remnants of S&V chip crumbs and bits on the floor around the island. It wasn't a dream, it had happened and there was evidence that it happened.

I imagined that this was like how an addict felt the morning after they fell off the wagon, after they had been clean for awhile.

I am going to I.C.E. (Intense Cycling Endurance) tonight.

ICE ICE Baby!

Just for penance I hope Sharon KICKS my ASS.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Shoo Fly Shoo


I HATE flys.

Is it because its a hotter summer than normal that we have more FLYS?!?

But why is it October and they are still hanging around me!?

I feel like it all started to annoy me in Fredericton, everywhere I went, the flys followed. Even McMom Ali, commented that they were following me. Flys in the Snotty Fox, I mean Snooty Fox, I always seem to say that one wrong, I guess I have more of an affiliation with Snot than Snoot. Flys at the farm, understandable, but flys at the bar, OK they are no pre-wrestler Mickey Rourke barflys, just the many eye-d grouse ones. There were even flys on the BUS following me through our tour-du-force of potatoes of Fredericton.

When Mickey was still remotely HAWT.


GAH! There is even a fly on my laptop NOW!

Flys at home. I CAN'T STAND IT! I mean really, why wont they go away, we even had an infestation of fruit flys with the appearance of a fruit platter that was brought for the Man's birthday. That was soon remedied.

But these black flys, these flys are making me CRAZY!

We are using our trusted fly swatter killer. Sorry to all you PETA people but they have invaded my home and now they are fair game. You don't just swat em you electrocute em, and remember, this is NOT a toy. It should also say that is does Amuse children when adults use it FRANTICALLY.


Flies are disgusting. They like POOP and they like to land on everything, especially FOOD that the Man will leave out or food that the kids are grazing on.

The worst experience was the cloth diapers, they were obviously forgotten about in the Wet Bag, so we had a pre-infestation of larva mixed with baby flies, that will definitely turn you off using cloth. Rule one of cloth diapering, cloth is not meant for the once a week load, especially in hot summer months, daily, dammit, daily.

I even hate the movie The Fly, never seen it, because really, do I really want to see a giant one on the screen!?

Do you remember the song, Flys in the Buttermilk, Shoo Fly Shoo??!!??

More like,
DIE FLY DIE!

Oh and yes I know the plural of fly is flies, but I don't think I should properly pluralize an annoying pest.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Hockey, should have guessed that it would be hockey

It's been almost 3 months since my Dad died and I feel like I have been handling it pretty well, I mean considering that he was becoming just a shell of who he was, and even at the end he was fading in and out of reality and his drugged up state.

I work in the same building as the hospice that my Dad was at. He was on the 2nd floor and I am on the 4th floor in Rehabilitation.

I was concerned about working my first day back in the same building after his death, but really it was fine. I just avoided the 2nd floor. Then I went for coffee with the Unit Clerk, she was wonderful during my Dad's stay and I knew her from her stint as the Rehab Unit Clerk. I went in the hospice and I was fine. It felt uncomfortable, but yet I wasn't breaking down or anything.

Then the other Friday, I was waiting for the elevator, and one of the food services girls recognized me and said Hello. She gave me a big hug, and asked how my Mom was doing. I went into the same well rehearsed answers, fine under the circumstances, and that I thought she was strong considering.

Then she started in, saying how with the hockey season starting, how she really missed talking with my Dad, how she used to bug him when the Canucks lost, how she reminded him of game day, as with his medications he would forget, and how much she was going to miss him, miss him NOW.

One thing I could always strike up a conversation with my Dad about, was hockey. I remember him always joking that Sopel tripped on him hair, and was probably smoking too much dope, because of course, if the guy had long hair, he must've been on drugs.

Even writing this I am getting a little emotional, it's true. Life goes on and so does the NHL, but with one less avid fan routing on our Canucks. I remember really wanting the Canucks to win because my Dad would joke, I guess I will never get to see them win the Stanley Cup. I guess he won't on earth.

But if they do ever win the Cup during my lifetime, he's the first one I am going to think about.

Damn, I guess I should have known it would have been hockey that would remind me of you Dad.