Thursday, June 28, 2007

Pick your seat!

I was listening to the Derek the Blind Movie Reviewer on the the edge this morning and realized that there are several movies out that I would be interested in seeing. Most people would just plan to go see a flick this weekend, but I have issues with going to the movies. In fact that last time I was in the movie theater was to see White Chicks.

I have a phobia about my personal space. I don't mind having my friends or family entering my "safety circle", but random individuals...that's another story.

I never go to a movie the first three weeks of being released. A sold out theater is my inner circle of hell. If I do actually go to a theater I like to be there early so that I can scope out the joint and get a suitable seat. Picking a seat is take serious consideration. I don't want to be to close to the front, I have no interest in the DNA rows which are the famous back rows...I was a teen I know first hand what goes on there, it should be quarantined. I like the short rows that have only 3 or 5 seats in them. This lessens the chance of having some irritating fuck sit down beside me.

I remember being out with hubby for a date night and we went to the show. I cannot even tell you what we saw, how sad. I like to claim that I have ADD, but in reality I am just impatient and easily distracted. I remember the theater being quite full, but we were able to find suitable seating in one of the short rows. So the movie is just about to start and this guy comes over and parks his ass right beside me. I sort of look over my shoulder and to the side to seem if indeed this was the only available seat, it was not. I would never cozy up to someone that I didn't know, his thought process when he selected his seat was clearly the furthest from mine.

His guy we'll call him Dick, has taken over the arm rest and now I am sitting there squashed between my hubby and Dick as the lights dim. Sitting in the dark with a random stranger brushing up against your arm is a complete violation of personal space. About a half hour has passed and I am trying to focus on the movie and hopefully laps into my happy place when Dick starts moving around and getting restless. I look over and he is now digging in his knapsack. He pulls out a can of pop, cracks it open and places a straw in it. Super....I thought that when he came in with no food that this was my silver lining, but I was wrong, he's just cheap.

Back to the movie....crowd laughing, someone coughs, oops someone else coughs, another, then another! Good Lord shut up...TB is spreading like wild fire apparently, must be something that mutated from the DNA rows. focus....crowd laughing, I am lost due to the excessive coughing but I think I can pick it up. She love him, he loves....Russel, no wait he doesn't love Russel, Dick is rustling again. I look over and good old Dick has dug out a ziplock bag of baby carrots. He is ramming 2 in at a time in his bong hole. Crunch crunch crunch.....heavy nasal breathing.....Crunch crunch crunch....heavy nasal breathing...Crunch, oh I am going to lose my mind. Hearing someone chewing is my ultimate pet peeve. It really makes me want to harm people. Dick proceeds with his snack.

Okay Okay movie...right...I sit twitching with every crunch and am desperately wanting to get lost in this movie, but I so distracted. Look over at hubby...fixated. Okay you can do this. We must be an hour in or more by now. She loves him, he may love her, this girl...I don't know who she is, why are they in the desert now, they were in the city? Oh he's having flashbacks to the desert, no he's dreaming we're okay their in the city....SSLLUURRPPP!!!!!!!

Dick is going to town on that straw and is trying ever so hard to get that very last drop. See Dick, See Dick chase a drop of pop around the bottom of the can, See dick lose consciousness, See Kate twitching with a bloody fist. I didn't really hit him, but I wanted to!

I have now lost all interest and hope in ever understanding the plot to this movie. Everyone else including hubby and Dick seem to be enjoying it. I guess the best I can do is sit here and try to assume myself without harming Dick. I am getting anxious and can think of a thousand things I could be doing instead of this. I start getting restless myself and then it occurs to me that my feet are stuck to the floor. What the hell, as I peel my shoes up from the stick. That's disgusting, are they not cleaning this place between shows. I am sure one would notice pop running down the rows, I guess not! Oh God I hope it is pop and not run off from the DNA rows. I wonder how many dirty arms have been on these arm rest? Peel my feet up again, "that is some serious stick". Oh God that gross. I bet I am sitting in a fart seat. Yep that is a seat that has been repeatedly farted in...sick. I can feel myself getting hot and just as I about to bolt from the theater the lights come up. There is a calming hum from everyone talking about the movie. I look over at Dick and he is packing up his knapsack, hubby interrupts my snarling glare and asks me how I liked the movie? I basically shovel him into the isle and stated, "it was frick'n wonderful...2 hours and 15 minutes that I'll never get back!

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Look out Bikini Villiage!

I am not sure what everyone else purchases at the grocery store, but I can tell you there is nothing fun on our list. I was at the local Fortino's on Sunday with baby girl to pick up a few things and I couldn't help but notice what people had in their carts in my line. It was amazing...I was gaining weight just standing beside it all.

We have a motto in our home, "If it's white, it ain't right". Basically this translates into whole wheat multi grain everything. Everyone knows of my husbands obsession with fibre and I am obsessed with everything healthy. We (no kidding) spend at least 30-50 dollars on produce a week sometimes more depending the season. I am gawking at the carts cookies, ice cream, crackers, chips, frozen meals.......drool. There is absolutely none of that in my house, okay I have thinsations for cookies (lunches), mini chef ice cream bars (so tiny) for ice cream and this week I treated myself to a pack of buckwheat noodle and a tin of lychee fruit. I bet you all want to come for a sleepover eh!

I have been back to work of 10 weeks now and every day I bring my lunch which consists of a container of fruit (raspberries, blue berries, strawberries, sometimes grapes, mango or water melon), and a sandwich usually a slice of turkey breast with honey mustard on a PC bun. I might have a pack of thinsations later and another coffee. Yep that's lunch, breakfast and dinner are just as exciting.

Last week I was back at the specialist and he weighed me....I am down 15.5 oz IN 9 WEEKS!!!! Look out Bikini Village here I come. I was thinking of picking up something strapy so that I look like a strung roast!
Are you fucking kidding me. I'm eating fricking rabbit food and being ever so careful as my coworkers are ramming takeout down their bong holes and I have only lost in ounces. Previous blogs would indicate that I don't exercise, but who does really? I don't really know anyone that hits the gym or fitness routine religiously.

The cardiologist says that my test all came back fine and that there is no indication of heart problems so I was probably right to think that I am suffering from anxiety attacks....yeah thanks. However, he would like to do one more stress test....baaahaaa! Yep, this one will be the same as the last, but I will have an ultrasound on my heart before and immediately after the test. If this shows no issues then I am fine. I cannot imagine that my experience will be any better. I look forward to all the tape and the gentle pep talk the fitness technician!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Magnets, Stickers and Bureaucracy

With the state that the world is in today, who would imagine that little magnets and stickers would be top priority and leading controversy. I of course am referring to the latest issues brought forth by City Council ending the "unofficial, unapproved" one year support-the-troops decal campaign.

Last year the fire fighters, EMS and other front line emergency staff (plus many citizens), decided to display their supports for our Canadian troops by purchasing and placing yellow ribbon magnets and stickers on their vehicles. Many of these emergency workers are ex-military themselves and the gesture is purely to support the men and women currently fighting in Afghanistan, those who have fought the previous wars and in tribute to those who have fought and died for our freedom.

There was mention in one article by a local Council member that the purchase of some of the magnets and stickers where made our of public tax payers money without the city's approval. Uh, interesting. Now City Council is worried about where our tax money is going. Really how much would the decals have cost...few grand for all of them. Seriously, I much rather have it go to that, then another pay increase for Mayor Miller. I would say that the City Council members and politicians have no right to point fingers at this matter regarding tax payers dollars. When is the last time any of them paid for a dinner, drove to Ottawa, or flew coach....but I digress.

I have mixed feelings about the war in Afghanistan, I do agree that we need to defend our national security, but I am not sure how I feel about our Canadian troops being there and being aligned with the U.S.. I think Bush is a very scary man, with short man, small penis complex and way too much power...a modern day Hitler...a side blinker (not quite human. Eyelids close side to side when they blink instead of up and down). I don't agree with much of anything he says and it is unreal that he is running such a massive country.

What I do know is that I quite frankly don't have the balls to leave my family, go abroad and fight of my own freedom. These people have chosen this as their career and I support them in their choice. I am therefore very grateful for all those who have, and continue to do so on my behalf.

I don't display public support for anything really, it's not my style, but I do understand and am not offended by those who do. City Council may want to stop and think about the 57 soldiers so far that have been sent home for final resting since this war began. Maybe while they are bickering back and forth today over the vote and God damn bureaucracy, they could stop and think about the young bride weeks away from giving birth to her first child, who had to stand and wait on the tarmac while her husband is carried off a plane in a casket.

No one can tell me that they do not feel for that woman and her family. We have all seen the media coverage and felt sadness for these families and thank God that it wasn't our own. Because of these courageous people making the conscious career choice to be in the military, Canada currently does not have mandatory drafting in affect. Get over yourself and research what people are actually supporting here before you run your big political mouths offs about something you clearly know nothing about.

Just read...3 more will be returning home this week for final resting.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

What's happening here?

I drive by this ad every morning on my way to work. This morning like many other mornings traffic stops just about in fornt of the billboard and I am forced to stare and analyze it.

Maybe some of you would like to offer up your interpretation of the events unfolding here.

I am puzzled as to what exactly is transpiring. What is the message that I am suppose to take away from this advertisement? It is an ad for retirement living. The senior in the red, has a firm two handed grasp on the first young boy's forearm and is pulling him towards her. The second boy in blue, has his hands and arm wrapped around the boy in the middles arm and is pulling him back. What the hell? Is this a disturbing game of monkey in the middle or tug-a-boy? I just don't understand the message. How does this reflect the retirement lifestyle. I am getting a message that the seniors are feeling unappreciated and neglected and living in a far off land. Therefore they lure and steal young children for their companionship, modern day Hansel and Gretel.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007


I thought I would share my experience with a stress test I had. Last week I was scheduled to have a stress test which on my list of things I'd like to do, is right up with root canal and being shot in the foot.

So I get to my appointment and I am notified that the doctor is running late and will be in at an undetermined time. I didn't really care as it is the technician that is doing the test and not the doctor, but then I hear..."So we cannot start the test until he is here, as he must be on site in case we need to use the defibrillator"! Right, the defibrillator...okay I'll wait then. So I am sitting there for the next hour thinking what the hell type test is this that I may or may not require a defibrillator intervention. So my anxiety is kicking in overtime which is the whole reason I am even seeing a cardiologist. As I sit and stew, finally the doctor arrives and the test may start!

So I am ushered into this little room in the back hall which is smoking hot due to the massive window with no shades and has a smell similar to that of a jock strap. The technician with a strong Polish accent asks me to remove everything from the waist up! What! I was specifically told to wear something comfortable (yoga pants and a tee) so why remove it.

Tech: Yes, must remove shirt and bra
Me: really, remove my bra?
Tech: yes, yes, bra too and put on paper apron and she leaves the room

So I am thinking to myself, no bra on a treadmill with triple D tits. This should be interesting.

Now I have this apron on and of course it does not close, because it is made for A/B cup person and the Tech returns.

Tech: Oh, ah, yes, this not close. What we do....ah I know. She runs out and runs back in holding a roll of bandaging tape. I put this on to close front, like buttons haha.
Me: I say you know what would be a better idea is if we took that tape and strapped my tits to my chest!
Tech: I don't know what you speak of...okay apron closed.

So she takes my blood pressure and discovers that the cuff is torn and is not holding well. So she wraps my arm and cuff with several passes of the tape and says, there we go. I questioned if she had another cuff or machine, but she assured me it was fine. So she proceeds with taking my BP and concludes that it is high.

Tech: Oh number is high. You have high blood pressure?
Me: No
Tech: you nervous?
Me: Yep...Inner thoughts, Well I just signed a waiver as 1/1000 have a heart attack during this test. I am standing here bra less and hooked up to a dozen wires about to meet my nemesis and you have the BP cuff taped to my arm. What number did you expect?
Tech: okay you get on treadmill
Me: I should warn you, I have serious motion sickness. I do not cope well with things moving not under my own power. I am not a fan of treadmills.
Tech: no worry get on.

So I am going along and she starts talking about my work and what I do and being back to work and my heart rate is going up.
She tells me that this is basic exercise heart rate should be normal. Then lets not talk about work.

For those of you who have not had the stress test there are four stages and you start at a leisurely walk and progress to a jog/run. Just to note all stages are uphill and the degree also increase with each level. I live in the burbs, there is not much up hill unless I hit the escarpment.

Tech: You exercise?
Me: No! Inner thoughts...of course it do, just look at this ripping body. I am a Gold's Gym junkie. What the hell type question is that.
Tech: You must exercise!
Me: Well I never had to until I got married. Now I am packing it on. I run after a kid and keep a house, that's my exercise.
Tech: 5...4...3...2...1...faster
Me: Inner thoughts....Holy fuck. How is this speed a natural progression? You go from strolling to mall walker on crack.
Tech: See you need exercise
Me: okay, I need exercise...established thank you. However, I am here to take this test to prove that I am having anxiety attacks and rule out that I am having non fatal heart attacks, okay.

So we are now kick'n it up hill even more and I guess most people are either loving this or having chest pain, but my neither. Instead I am experiencing the worst burning in my calves from walking uphill and the running shoes I am wearing are pinching my baby toes. I dug them out of the closet and actually had never worn them before...I should have worn my Birks!

Tech: Chest pain?
Me: No my calves are cramping.
Tech: See exercise
Me: Crazy giggle...inner thought, I swear to God lady, you say that one more time and I am going to tape you to this son of a bitch and take it to 11!
Tech: would you like to stop?
Me: Nope. Cut to inside my head. Would I like to stop? ummm options. Not can I keep going or do I need to stop. Would I LIKE to stop? Yes I would. I would indeed LIKE to stop. Seeing that I am limping and looking a lot like a woman with Polio on a treadmill, oh and lets not forget that my tits are sweating and completely out of my control and if she mentions exercise one more time I will no longer be able to guarantee her safety. Yes I would like to stop.
Tech: In 30 seconds we will be at level 3...much faster. Would you like to stop?
Me: faster, uh. Inner dialogue, Well that will take this wee jaunt to a full scale jog, which will be uphill of course. I have already busted through my tape "buttons" that situation can only get worse. I am hotter that hell and seriously my burning calves won't enjoy the jog. It would also scar my theory that one should only run went their life is in jeopardy and seeing that I don't see a bear in here.... Yep I am out. I have been here too long to get any of this time back and quite frankly my chest is not hurting and I haven't had the defibrillator intervention so I think my time here is done.
Tech: 15 seconds to faster. Would you like to stop?
Me: Yes, Yes I would like to stop.
Tech: Yes, stop?
Me: Yep
Tech: But you're not done, your chest hurt?
Me: nope, my calves kill
Tech: okay stopping

So it is over and I am happy. I put my bra and tee back onto my sweaty body and heading home for a shower as I should have been at work an hour ago. Just as I am walking out she yells...make sure exercise!

Seriously, that is one brave bitch and in the hall all alone I extend my arm above my head and toss her the bird as I walk out.