Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Bad dog eats gummy worms

Bad dog was bad today. She made a mess & stole some gummy worms. Rebecca almost had a nervous breakdown.

When Mr. Ford & I first bought our house, we made sure we had a sizable yard for a big dog. A big dog was always in the foreseeable future.

Our first pet was Annoying McTweets (may he rest in peace), a cockatiel my father had gifted to me when I was two. He had a bad attitude & didn't like much of anything other than people putting their faces right up to him & talking to him in a high pitched voice. He kicked his little bird bucket tin 2011 at the ripe old age of 19. Pictures of him make me cry. Therefor I shall not post.

Next came baby the ferret who we 'rescued' from being neglected by one of Mr. Ford's friends (to be fair, the friend acknowledged that he wasn't able to spend enough time with her & wanted to give her a better home). Since Mr. Ford had never had a new pet, because his parents were the devils, and because I was going to have the ferret whether he liked it or not, I 'immersed' him in the idea by telling him I already adopted the ferret well before any arrangements were made. To my surprise, his reaction was less of "Rebecca! You can't make these decisions without consulting me! I do not want a rodent" & more of "OH MY GOD WHERE IS IT? I want to see it!". A man after my own heart :)

The next pet was barbecue bob Mcpickles, a wiggly 7 week old orange tabby cat that a friend of a friend found in a BBQ in the north end. Bob is now about 3 years old & he is a fat lard. He enjoys laying on the dinning room table when he knows he is not supposed to & eating the other cat's food.

The latest cat is Chevy Ford. He is a beautiful cat & he knows it. I had no desire to scoop more cat poo but MaryAnne (mother) was dating a man from Elmwood with kittens & she had fallen in love with this cat. Being the logical woman that she is, instead of taking it to her house, I was volunteered to adopt it. When we first brought Chevy home, we confined him to a room as we have a big house & didn't want him to be overwhelmed. Chevy laid down as compressed as he could make himself with his face in a corner & Bob stood above him & spat at him. Poor Chevy. He got his revenge though. Although all of our animals are sterilised, Chevy is a concupiscent creature & enjoys 'extra curricular' cuddling with Bob. Gross.

 Luibov the beagle was a result of me crying in my office lunch room. I was minding my own business reading the Free Press when I came across an article for a litter of weird looking mole-puppies. The owner was an archaeologist on a dig in northern Ontario. He observed that the solution for animal control there was destroying the stray & stopped animal services from shooting a beautiful auburn dog. He loaded her up in his van & took her home to his wife & baby where she promptly became ill & had puppies. The article was in the paper because their family friend found this very noble & was hoping to make an account to help them with the vet bills. The archaeologist, Paul, was more concerned about finding good homes for the puppies.
I cried. Then I called Mike & I cried some more.
We went to their house & met the puppies. We chose the sweetest, sucky-babiest dog with long legs that we thought would grow to be huge (we had no idea what it's father looked like of course).

We were wrong. She is medium at best & has a very timid demeanour around strangers. She is very intelligent & a quick learner, however she has crippling separation anxiety which makes no sense as she has experienced no debilitating stresses in her life. She is also alone by herself for approximately 4 hours a day.
I don't believe in kennelling because she hates it & it makes me feel like I am caging her like a zoo animal, however when she is home alone she is destructive. Please allow me to construct a list of the items she has stolen & destroyed:

2 candles, 5 cookbooks, 2 pairs of glasses, 3 dog beds, a picture frame, a necklace, 2 plastic serving spoons, tupperware of all shapes & sizes, milk cartons, Tassimo disks, food packaging, a hat, slippers, sandals, 2 pairs of shoes, 2 mitts, coffee filters, an electric toothbrush, ornamental rocks, a Jets foam toy, a CD, innumerable pictures, pens, highlighters, juice boxes, her coats, Christmas tree ornaments, build-a-bears, a spaghetti squash, cherries, bills, a cheque book, a social insurance card, a driver's license, toilet brushes, the remote, year books, laundry baskets, toilet paper, paper towels, markers, pencils, 3 weeks worth of birth control, hair mouse, puzzle pieces, headphones, DVD & probably $500 worth of 'indestructable' chew toys

Today, I, her patient & kind owner woke up to my alarm to see that Lou was still in bed with me. She of course, got super excited that I was awake & tried to run her nose on my face. I thought it was a safe to assume that she had been sleeping with me peacefully this morning. WRONG. Went downstairs to find that the garbage (tall with a lid) had been raided & food wrappers shredded. It must have been my lucky day because the poo that I had thrown in there yesterday from Lou's accident by the back door was taken out & smeared around the hardwood floor.

In my rage & chased after the dog screaming "WHO DID THAT" (full well knowing who did that).
After I had said my mantras & brought my blood pressure down, I let Lou outside for a pee & we went down to the basement to have a nice, calming shower.

I knew that Lou was still being bad on my way back up the stairs. She completely gives herself away, which is even more enraging because she knows that she has done something bad but she has still done it.
If all I had to do was to make sure that she was aware what was considered 'a bad', I would be ok with that, but what am I supposed to do with a dog that knows she will be in sh*t for chewing *insert anything here*, but does it anyway?

Anywho, I go up the stairs, where Lou greeted me with her bad dog eyes. Went to the bathroom to find that she had stood up against my dresser, grabbed a bag of sour gummy worms & pulled them down to the floor, taking with them the pair of discontinued glasses I had to buy when she chewed up the originals. LUCKILY the glasses flew underneath the dresser out of her reach & she had only eaten as many gummy worms as a half an hour shower would allow her.
When I called her name to point at the 'bad' & make sure that she was aware that she was the one that committed 'the bad', she promptly hid under the guest bed.

I poked myself in the eye with my mascara while trying to simultaneously calm myself down & do my make-up.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013


Mr. Ford is very upset with me for inadvertently making him the subject of my blogs (sh*t my husband says anyone?) so I will make every effort possible to leave him out of today's topic. We'll resume the comedy gold that is all of the things he says & does later.

From the time I was old enough to start thinking about conceiving babies, I didn't want any. This stopped in late 2012 & I am very confused.

I know that babies change everything. They change the dynamic of your relationship with your spouse, your finances, your priorities, the cleanliness of your house, your body, your future...They're basically little missiles of destruction. Bombs if you will.

I didn't want any of that. Sticky fingers, diapers, snotty noses... Plus it takes a loaded gun to part me from my money (more on that as the blog progresses-you've noticed the piggy ban in the background haven't you?)

Anyway, lately that's changed. I look at babies everywhere. In public, baby-stalking on facebook, baby books, baby blogs. Yes, that's right, there are baby blogs, even specialised ones for people like me with fetishes. Here's some examples:

Tattooed men with babies
Male celebrities with babies
Hockey players with babies
Soldiers with babies

This is an untapped industry people! Think of the revenue. Greeting cards, calendars, picture books!
Mr. Ford (sorry!) does some pretty crazy things in an attempt to 'get my attention', when really all he would need to do is steal a baby to hold.

I have no idea how the baby fixation came about but I think it was a progression. First live together, get married, be stable in your career, buy your own house, make it your home, get a cat, get a dog...then get told what to do by an inanimate organ. I feel that as an educated, self-aware woman, I should rise above these primal insticts fueled simply by hormones...there should be a drug for this.

I blame most of it on the people around me having babies. Mostly facebook babies with their facebook profiles & facebook friends. How can you convince yourself to not get pregnant when all of those babies are all in your face, clogging up your feed?

On that topic, can I just say, facebook moms, I know you love your babies but they are REALLY NOT as great as you think they are. Every post you make does not need to be praising your child, proclaiming their intelligence, beauty & manners! Your non-mom friends are getting annoyed with you.
And for the record, I've met your baby. It is not that cute. Quit lying to yourself & just play up some of it's actual attributes.
Let me teach you something that's really gonna make your life easier:

"Yeah, he's no Channing Tatum, but he's got a great sense of humour".

Monday, 25 February 2013

Mr. Ford's cuisine

I have been a vegetarian for about 12 years with recent efforts to be more of an 'ethical eater'. By that, I mean that I try my best to make more 'ethical' food choices without adding any other set-in-stone rules. My efforts include buying local whenever possible, buying rice, almond & soy milks instead of cow juice & searching for local, vegetarian free run eggs instead of my usual routine of finding the cheapest brands I can.

Mr. Ford was never a 'steak 'n' tators' kind of guy, but when we met, he did put chicken fingers, burgers, scrimps etc in to his gullet. For the first couple years of my M& Mr. Ford's relationship, I (the primary chef) prepared him animal protein.

I think I might have even liked it. I wanted to be the Holly home-maker & provide him with beautiful 'complete' meals & I could still enjoy the smell of the bacon. Unfortunately one day, after I had made & served Mr. Ford a beautiful roast chicken dinner, I requested that he please clean off the rest of the chicken for sandwiches & salad. He didn't. He was just TOO BUSY (winning the cup in NHL 2011 is time consuming I hear).
So crouching ginger set about cleaning off the bones. And breaking them & hearing the crunching as that poor little thing was further mutilated by my hands. Then I started to cry. In the kitchen. Like a blubbering idiot. Over the chicken carcass.

My solution to this trauma? Telling Mr. Ford I do not expect him to adopt my lifestyle, but cannot continue to prepare him dead animals. Since Mr. Ford cannot cook, he has now been a vegetarian for close to two years.

Yesterday, Mr. Ford made dinner. I expected that he would use his 'wonky creative cuisine' abilities, to use up some of of the perishables in the fridge:

These include; 2 types of mushrooms, hummus, lettuce, tomatoes, apples, avacado, yams, etc etc.

What he made was this:

If you can't tell over the golden brown crusts, this is boxed deep fried yam fries, egg rolls, spring rolls & mozzarella sticks.

Mr. Ford acknowledges now that his dinner choice was damaging & then started to panic that we were both going to break out. I made him eat 2 organic oranges so he wouldn't have a heart attack & die.

To be fair, it was a lot better than some of his previous cooking experiments such as under-cooked potatoes dipped in beet juice & covered in pumpkin spice...but that's a story for another day.

Sunday, 24 February 2013

Nails/the bane of beauty existence

Nails, nails, nails...

Girlfriends, why does toe nail polish stay put for 3 months but I can't get nail polish to stay on for 36 hours?

When people hear me complain about this they immediately suggest "SHELLAC! SHELLAC!"


That stuff is terrible & seems to chip just as much, taking half the nail with it.
That being said, I love the experience of having a little Asian lady (maybe not politically correct to mention the race, but we all know who does our nails) make me look pretty. It's relaxing. It looks nice (for a couple of hours) & it's pampering I feel I deserve. It's also a waste of $20.00.

Based on the fact that I can't get any polish to stay on my nails, I don't have much hope for getting a gel nail to stay put. I also feel that fake nails are like fake boobs...I don't need them & can grow my own.

I was raised to do my own nails & to make them round. Growing up I learned that this was not common. Here's what I thought my nails looked like:

Here's how they were perceived:

Poor Rebecca the outsider :(

Because I had broken one of my oval nails & had a job interview, I bought some conform-to-society square glitter nails from the drug store & glued them on to myself. They look like this:

Aside from a little yellowing, I don't mind them, but they do pose their challenges. The glue is somewhat visible. My typing speed is reduced to about ten words a minute & by some cruel twist of fate I am now the itchiest person in the world with no means to scratch. Last night my leg was so itchy I couldn't help it, I just raked me fabulous nails against my skin until finally my thumb popped off. Sigh.


Mr. Ford told me yesterday that I should get him to 'proof-read' my posts before I finalise them... you can guess how receptive I was to that GEM of an idea. How many type-os this time Mike?

Saturday, 23 February 2013

Who/where am I & what am I doing here?

To put it simply, I am lazy & I want to be rich. Also a little egotistical...

My dream job is to be a comedic blogger. How can you be a comedic blogger with no blog?
I hate early mornings. I hate wasting perfectly good make-up when I could be working from home instead. Plus I think I'm kinda funny. Mr. Ford will deny this, but that's because he wants to be the funny-man in the relationship.
Lastly, I feel like my social media has more of a presence than I do. I'll have acquainatances on facebook or twitter that decide we should be best friends after seeing my treachurous pet posts & views on marriage, finances & pop culture. It kinda makes me feel like I'm a useless human being but a relevant profile. If social media is going to make me feel inadequate, they can at least make me rich & famous!!!!

With all due honesty, I'm just a girl attempting to be successful in this world. Success involves thinking out of the box.
I haven't decided what direction this blog shall go in nor if it will skip there with a smile or plow everything in it's path. My hobbies include obsessively crunching numbers to be able to afford the lifestyle, items & experiences I desire, correcting Mr. Ford's odd behaviors, photographing cats & dogs amidst bad behavior, comedy, searching photos of penguins, attempting to make my house better, travelling, eating & cooking (the later less-so) & most recently, researching babies.

Since Mr. Ford will surely be the only person reading at this point in the game, what would you like me to talk about?