You know whenever you see nature shows, you see monkeys tend to pick at each other, comb their fingers through each other's backs and pick stuff off whether it be dirt or lice? It always reminds me of my own family.
I am not sure who started the picking trend, definitely not the parents as none of them are pickers really. It's the second generation who are, siblings, cousins -- my oldest brother being the worst instigator.
If I didn't know my mum was so straight and narrow, I would've sworn she was on drugs when she was carrying me. I get the most LSD filled dreams (and trust me, I'm not on drugs either. My individual adrenaline and personality is insane enough for some people) that I sometimes feel the Dream Fairy delivered the wrong dreams to me.
Last night I dreamt that we were in a place where if you had taken an aerial shot, it would have looked like pieces of lace, land being part of the "lace" and the holes were bodies of water. Stef and I were swimming from land to land trying to find life, other than ourselves. Suddenly, we heard some human voices and swam toward this very thin piece of land, so thin that it felt like a very small fence, you could only hold onto it. I was quite tired by then and could barely keep myself afloat. That piece of land turned out to be the edge of a huge rushing river.
When I looked over I saw all these people salmon fishing, and the salmon swimming upstream were these massive pre-historic dinosaur type beasts, all larger than a very tall man.
Stefan said I cried out in the middle of the night so he thought I was having a nightmare and tried to comfort me.
Turns out that in my dream, he was trying so hard to see these creatures, he was leaning very heavily on my left side and I felt myself slipping from the edge. What I was actually trying to do was yell, "Get off me, you big baboon!"
I am not sure why I haven't blogged about this yet (from my out West trip) because it really is one those funny-weird things that just happened.
When Stef and I were at the sea otter section at the Seattle Aquarium, we were witness to one of the most private and yet normal acts done by all living things. Yes, indeed. We were witness to sea otter fornication.
It was quite an interesting sight to behold, especially surrounded by inquisitive children and shocked parents.
"Stef, where are those otters anyway?"
"Oh, there they are....awww...that's so sweet! They're hugging one another while they're swimming. Oh, what are they DOING? Oh...OH!"
I felt slight embarrassment for the male otter who was being slapped after some frantic underwater humping. (I don't know why, but I have this weird habit of being embarrassed for someone else when they do something embarrassing publicly. One of the main reasons why I can never watch Borat).
"How do you tell which one is which?"
At this point, the sea otter flips on his back and shows a very pink, very large otter penis. Squeals from children ensue.
You know what the weirdest thing about this is? This is not the first time Stefan and I have witnessed some animal fucking.
The last time we were at the Toronto Zoo, we got to see a lion creep up to a lioness, do her from behind, roar really loudly, walk away and then passed out. The lioness simply looked annoyed while a woman with her two children muttered under her breathe, "How typical!"
And the weirdest thing is that we're not big animal sanctuary go-ers. I think I've only been to a zoo/aquarium a total of 6 times my entire life. I just think to myself, "Why us?"
I am glad the animals get to have their fun while they're in captivity. After all there must not be much else to do in there, but for me it's like watching weird animal porn (or a car accident). You don't want to see it, but you just can't look away.
You too can get the look of collagen injected lips without going to the doctor. Guaranteed 100% effective. Look like Angelina Jolie with no financial cost.
Method: Drink beer that has wasp at the the rim without noticing. Feel fluttering against lip, pinch fluttering object, thereby incurring anger of said wasp forcing it to sting your bottom lip, causing swelling. To even out both bottom and top lip, try to get a wasp to sting the other lip at the same time. This is NOT recommended.
Side Effects May Cause: Possible death if allergic (Thank goodness, I was not), Not much attention from husband after he realizes you're not going to die, Serious stinging to the point of seeing stars as lip is very sensitive area, Internal itching (probably from the venom), Jokes about how Stefan and I should not take out our anger on each other physically, Swelling for longer than a day (if you are particularly sensitive to insect bugs like me).
Possible solutions: Ice and Meat Tenderizer (recommended by someone who got bitten a couple of weeks ago. Unfortunately it's not something I usually carry in my bag but will give some thought to it for the future).
Anyone who owns a cat truly understands the meaning of "curious as a cat." I thought I truly did until this (which I also know is not uncommon to other cat owners): But why the hell do they always want to be in the bathroom when you are doing a poop?
The reason why I am complete bewildered, is because I was always lead to believe that cats had hyper sensitivity when it came to smell. I swear to God, Mindy gets mad if we close the door when we are doing our business (NOT together! What kind of people do you think we are?!) and I just do not understand this. Not only does she meow piteously, but she will literally use her paw and knock on the door until you let her in (this has been observed not just from personal experience but also when others are at work).
Not only will she be in the same room, but she will be purring, completely content.
The ironic thing is, if you should happen to cross her path when she is in the midst of doing her business, she will literally give you the dirtiest look as if to say,"Can you give me some privacy please? Sheesh!"
Cats are messed.
And yet, I still love her.
Last night, I dreamt that I gave birth to a 20 lb., vinyl skinned, robin's blue egg baby. Turns out, Stefan's an alien. I was NOT pleased.
Tell me Freud, am I insane?
Isn't it funny how we as individuals can form such odd habits? I often wonder where it comes from. For me, I am particularly weird about my stationery. I remember always having a list for my back to school shopping as I could only do my work on specific things.
For example, all my math homework could only be done on graph paper. If I happened to have run out of graph paper, I would write all my notes on lined paper and re-copy all of the day's work on graph paper. All math notes must be written in blue medium point pen and actual work in mechanical pencil. English notes were to be written in black fine point ink pen. And notes could never be messy. I've been known to rewrite whole chapters of work if I felt like they were messy. There was a very good reason for this madness though. The neater my notes were the better I always did in that particular class.
Now in my adulthood, my weirdness is seeping into my work. I have a nice bounded book to write a list of things I want to accomplish each day. I also have a paper pad to just scribble miscellaneous notes. The entries in the bounded book is written in black ink pen, notes are made in red ink. When I am done a task, I can only cross it off with a yellow highlighter. Blue means an issue is pending, pink means that there is a major issue on this, orange means that I should look at it and follow up at a later date.
And the whole point of this entry is that I can't find my yellow highlighter and I am all discombobulated over this. I get great satisfaction out of crossing things off my list. I must go and see whether there is some office store nearby.
Does anyone else have weird habits with their work?
Sometimes Google scares me.
Or the fact that people can find you through Google.
Because that's what happened to me. Twice, this week.
Ming and I were reminiscing about our school days, when Ann's name came up. Ann was a senior in our school that I had become really good friends with before I left for Canada. We had kept in touch for years but, at some point, we lost touch. I told Ming that I thought about Ann all the time and wished that we could reconnect somehow. And then voila! I got an email from Ann on Tuesday. She somehow tracked me down through my blog. Well, what a nice little coinci-dink!
I was watching one of those TV celebrity gossip shows like Access Hollywood or some other nonsense last night. Anyways, they had this "breaking" trend news story about how a lot of women are getting elective surgeries to make themselves "virgins" again. They replace the hymen and sometimes, they also get the vaginal canal tightened. Supposedly, this is becoming quite popular and is considered the new boob job.
I can understand if you're doing this if you live in a society that might kill you for not being a virgin in the name of honour. But to do this as a "gift" to your husband for Valentine's Day or Christmas at a price tag of $5000?
What is this crap? Whatever happened to doing Kegel exercises? And where are the sugeries for men to make them virgins again?
The Winter Olympics Games are nearly over. I have to say that there are a lot of sports in the Winter Olmpics that don't really make a lot of sense to me. Take the luge and skeleton for instance. Why anyone would throw themselves onto some sled and go down some windy ice slide at a tremendous speed, with head face down (skeleton) or on your back (luge) is beyond my comprehension.
The sport that really gets to me though is curling. I mean, really, it's the weirdest sport! You throw some big stone with a handle down the ice and tell two people who have brooms to sweep "faster"? I just don't get it. Do you?
And somehow, we Canadians are quite good at it since we always seem to medal in this event. I haven't quite decided whether this is something to be proud of.
I know everyone has thought this and sometimes you actually say it out loud.
Just doing my usual reading of news and came across this story of Toga, the penguin. Someone has stolen it from a zoo. The penguin is an endangered species and was the first of it's kind to be bred at this particular zoo. Latest reports state that an anonymous phone call was made to say that the penguin is in a plastic bag, and has been dumped in a nearby dockyard. Zoo officials state that the penguin will not live much longer without its parents.
Questions that arise -
What do you need a penguin for?
How does someone walk out with a penguin without any zoo officials noticing?
Why don't people get hobbies?
In the same news site, there are some people looking for their stolen dogs and others looking for their stolen donkey. There seems to be an epidemic in the area.
This afternoon, I decided to give myself a bikini wax.
Why, you ask?
There are several impractical reasons. (1) Boredom - I do stupid things when I am bored. (2) Curiosity - If the stupidity of my bored actions doesn't get me, my curiosity always does. (3) Dreams of going to a beach - In the winter time, I still like to think I am going to a beach. Waxing always makes me think of warm weather.
Tried out the new Nair "Soft Touch" Wax Strips. Must say, I like the non-heat strips because there's no finagling with microwaves and getting burned. You just warm them up between your hands and rip away. The little moisturizing cloths were a nice touch.
All in all, I prefer my bikini waxer nazi lady. She does it so quickly and chatters the entire time, that you barely have time to even form a real thought. Before you know it, you're hairless.
Still, it's nice to know that I have alternatives.
I was born in the Chinese Year of the Snake. Suppossedly this means that I am business savvy, hard working, charming, and gregarious. It also says that I am a possessive and jealous lover, someone who expects exacting results from all who surrounds them less they suffer the sting of my venomous anger. hmmmm.....
Why doesn't it also say anywhere that I will shed skin every Fall/Winter? Because I do. My feet, despite rigorous moisterizing with numerous foot creams will shed all of it's skin for the first month of a cold spell.
How weird is that?
I was feeling really ill yesterday night so in the morning I resorted to my homemade cure "comfort food" which is either noodle soup or congee. I decided to make congee. If you do not know what congee is, it's basically rice porridge. You can usually have it with some sort of meat but I usually have it plain with a variety of pickled veggies and other miscellaneous food. It may sound weird for people who aren't used to it but it is really good to those who do like it.
When I was in grade nine, I had a mini crush on this red-headed jock named Sean. I believe it was my girlfriend, D'Arcy (but I am not a hundred percent so don't hate her after you've read this) who grimaced and said, "You can't like a redhead! Can you just imagine the colour of his pubes?"
As you all know, I am a huge fan of Dooce and lately she's been talking a lot about poop. Actually, she talks a lot about it in general. Anyways, this last particular entry, May 4th - The one thing we KNOW she inherited from me made me recollect a distant childhood memory.
So the other day Stef and I were watching TV, well he was watching and I was surfing, when this totally normal looking ad came on. Usually, I just tend to block out the ads but it was one of the pharmaceutical ads and I like listening to them. Do you notice that they usually start off with innocent looking enough people, looking VERY normal and extra peppy, and the commentator usually speaks in a very calm voice. The medical warnings are usually at the end and then spoken in a very hasty
manner.
You know the carry on bags that people have? I am not really sure what other people use them for but I use them to counter my oft-mentioned A.D.D. (I am sure people with actual diagnosed A.D.D must hate me)
OK - so I have to talk a little more about this only because this is seems to be a big topic for everyone. It is the entry that I have gotten the most emails about. Some people were shocked that I would talk so blatantly about it and some people were happy that I brought it to light.
So I have these weird allergies that no one can diagnose. I only started the sneezing after I came home from my month long trip to Australia and Asia two and a half years ago, and I HAVE NEVER STOPPED! For real — never.
I sneeze EVERY SINGLE DAY! And no one can figure out why. I sneeze so much that I am sure that I have single handedly increased the value of the stock of Kleenex! Which, by the way, I highly recommend that you spend a little money and buy the triple ply, double moisturizer ones, they are SO good.
I have this obsession with 7 Eleven slurpees. I just cannot walk by a 7 Eleven without getting one! So today, after my early morning Spin Class (my ass and thighs hurt so much that I am convinced I shan't be able to walk for the rest of the weekend!), I went to the library to return my overdue books.
So, as you all know I am in Vancouver this week. I've been thinking a lot about road trips and how people who work in industries that require it, are quite the special breed. And I am by no means saying that we are superior or special in any way, just that it definitely takes a certain personality to not go mad during these times. But that is not what this entry is about.
Been having a very laid back weekend, and reading my many books that I have lying next to the bed. I should really just read one book and finish it; but find myself having ADD lately and have been reading many books at the same time. I am sure we've all have been guilty of this at some point. Anyways, I came by this interesting passage and thought I would share -
I have this weird thing I can do with my toes. It comes courtesy of my oldest brother Ken, who has toes that are almost the same length as his fingers, the damn chimpanzee!
I have often been accused of not sharing and I have to tell you that I quite resent that accusation. I do share, I just don't share certain things, blame it on the "youngest child" syndrome where I've had to share practically everything all my life.
So here I am - sharing myself through this blog.