Public service advisory

The intent of this blog has never been to control your minds through fear & negative imagery. In fact, I'd like to think that my ramblings are usually on the lighter side which makes me feel like what goes on through my head are mostly happy things. That's good.

Unfortunately there are bad things in this world & since the government isn't taking the proper measures, I'll have to take public safety advisories in to my own hands. DO NOT take this as a joke. I am a little hungover but of completely sound mind when I alert of:

GIANT. WATER. BUGS.

They live among us & since I am one of the few people that has seen them & been traumatized by them, I imagine they must be working with our world's leaders to keep their presence hush-hush.

Belostomatidae are native to, where else? TRANSCONA.

Mr. Ford used to work at the crap-cube of an operation that is the Future Shop on Regent (which has since closed. JUST TRY & tell me that the giant water bugs didn't have something to do WITH THAT!)

I, being the naive wife that I am, would go to meet him at work where we could frequent such fine establishments as the Walmart, Home outfitters, Petland & the movie theatre in Kildonan Place mall. This is when I was exposed to the Water bugs.

It was late summer & the sun was setting as we walked across the vast parking lot headed north to the Kildonan Place Mall. For those of you that don't know (because I certainly didn't), behind the Kildonan Place mall is vast amounts of wet fields & swamps. This is where they hide & inevitably plot their world domination.

But I wasn't in a field. I was in a parking lot. Minding my own business when I just about stepped on a half dead one of these

Oh dear god save us all.

My natural reaction was to, of course, scream like a banshee & run.
This is not a creature of god.
I was convinced that it was a giant mutant cockroach that had somehow infiltrated some kind of chemical waste & had turned itself in to the godzilla of Transcona.It was clucking as it attempted to fly but must have been run over by a monster truck. It was flailing & flipping & just being it's monstrous self. I wanted to run as far away from it as possible, but if there was one, where were the others?

I feel like your first reaction is to convince yourself that I am exaggerating. An over-reaction to a fear of insects or pest animals.
This is not the case.
I spend much of my childhood in a cabin. I've also traveled to slums in Mexico, Cuba & Thailand. I've seen it all & even if I don't particularly like it, I respect it's existence & would not want to object to it's right to live.

Dad & I used to go out by the river in the middle of the night to catch these for fishing:

MaryAnne wouldn't let me have one of these as a pet:

I used to hunt these things to hold proudly & chase sissy girls who didn't like snakes:

Then there was the time I got bit by one of these (I wasn't even that mad!):

I hope that this is sufficient evidence that I am not afraid of nature. This is not nature. This is a monster.

Only the people who have seen these things with their own eyes believe they exist. Such as the ex-employee of the Domo also on Regent where the belostomatidae were attracted to the lights in the fluorescent signs & would occasionally fall from their rafters.

Oh, you didn't know they could fly did you?

You really need to be convinced that these are the bug hell-spawn from all of the Blizzard games.

These things grow around 4 inches long. Before you discredit this size, pick-up your iPhone, place it up against your bicep & imagine an evil cockroach that size climbing up your body to your face to poison you, YES, POISON YOU!

Not only are they scary looking as shit, they are known to bite things, namely toes. Although not a lethal poison, they will stab your extremes causing them to swell up & go numb for two weeks. TWO WEEKS! Dear lord how have we allowed them to slip right under our noses like this!?

The giant water bugs live in streams, ponds & swamps but are attracted to bright lights...similar to the ones in the parking lot at Kildonan Place mall I'm sure. They are found in Canada & the northern US & are seen in late summer & early fall when they leave to look for deep bodies of water & to live under the ice throughout the winter.

Oh & by the way, IT CAN EAT THINGS UP TO FIFTY TIME IT'S SIZE!!!

It's four inches & it eats things fifty times it's size, I am scared for my Beagle's life.
And that's not even the worst part. If it's in the KP mall parking lot, & it flies, what's stopping it from crossing Regent & getting to one of my personal favorite restaurants; MONGOS.
I can't even go in there anymore. All I can imagine are these evil resilient creatures feasting on minced-up shrimp amongst the big containers in the walk-in fridges.

I'm not saying we should go all Simpsons & club these bugs in a water bug wacking spree, but Transcona, you can't be saved. Best to just leave your belongings & escape with your health.

You have been warned.

http://beneficialbugs.org/bugs/Giant_Water_Bug/giant_water_bug.htm

http://www.royalalbertamuseum.ca/natural/insects/bugsfaq/waterbug.htm
http://espacepourlavie.ca/en/insects-arthropods/giant-water-bug

Government job interviews

Hello all,

After three long years at current secret workplace, yours truly has been promoted to a new department to do a different top-secret job! Yay!

Top secret job may or may not be working for the government (employer disclosure policy remember?).

On route to finding this job, I've been in 6 other interviews. Some painful & some you'd-have-to-be-crazy-not-to-hire-me's.
All that interview prep & time spent should go to better use. From what I've heard, lots of people are interested in working for the government & you should benefit from my blunders. Here are six tips I would suggest for you.

1. Don't have a stupid email.

Every job I've applied for has been online with an email address or with an email on my resume. That is standard practice especially with the government.
surfdude69, sportz_chick & ilovejake should never be part of an email you apply to the government with.

When I initially applied to work with 'secret workplace' over three years ago, I was going through a depression spell & had a very poor outlook on my potential to get this job. That being said I'm sure my resume was terrible & I won't disclose the email address I provided but I will tell you it ended in 'iza_qt1'.

Now that I am a little more serious about my career, I realize this is dumb but I just can't seem to shake this awful decision. For some reason it is permanently on my file even though that's where I delegate my junk mail & I've been using my initial & last name 'secret employer' email address for 3 years now. I cringe whenever I'm scheduling an interview & the HR person will say
"So would you like me to send a confirmation to your iza_qt..."
"NO, NO, GOD NO PLEASE SEND IT TO MY WORK ADDRESS!"

2. Be prepared with scenarios for behavioral based questions

Give me an example of when you've used logic to solve a problem?
Describe when you've gone above & beyond in the workplace?
Tell me about a difficult situation you've had with a co-worker & how you handled it?

Don't ever expect to come in to an interview & just be asked why you want the job & what would make you a good candidate.
They want you to tell them about how you handle things in the workplace & this style of question can weed out the idealists that will attempt to wow them with what they 'would do' if a situation presented itself.

They want to know the background of the situation, what your thought process was, how you decided to handle the situation & what the outcome was.
Be prepared with situations that presented you in a good light & where you felt proud of what you did. Basically, every time I'm at work & overhear myself saying "God damn Crouching Ginger you're a genius!" I commit to memory what I did to make me say so.

3. Be Enthusiastic

I did not come close to finishing my degree, nor have I been able to gain 25 years of experience in anything. But someone very wise once told me that if you have an interview, you're already qualified for the job, the employers are just looking to find the least annoying person possible. I feel that I can attribute some of my success in interviews to being enthusiastic, talkative, excited & smiling.
This makes employers see that you are energetic & possibly more able to keep up with a demanding workload. People who appear enthusiastic & engaged also come across as more attentive. You may be absorbing just as much information if you are quiet & introverted, but will your interviewers see that?

4.  Be prepared with lots of questions.

In some of the interviews I've attended, the interviewers would end up taking more notes after they were technically 'done' their assessment & allowed me to ask my questions.
Even if you already know the answer or don't care what the response is, choose questions that convey a message about yourself. Make sure that they are relevant rather than scripted sounding questions & encourage a discussion.
How does a typical day play out in this job?
How long would you anticipate training to be?
Aside from what is listed in the posting, what are your personal expectations for this employee?

5. Show or hide your body modifications, but whatever you choose, stick to it!

Ol' Ginger can't be brilliant ALL the time...
I have personally made the decision to cover my tattoo & take out my tongue, lip & septum piercing for interviews.
The positions that I apply for are nothing to scoff at & I do not want to take any risks when applying for them. Even if the organization has a no discrimination policy, people have opinions & perceptions, sometimes subconsciously & I will deal with those after you have given me the job.

Before one particularly nerve-wrecking interview, I had lost track of time & was running behind schedule. I called a cab in an effort to make up time, but it was only after I had shook hands with 3 interviews & sat down to get ready for the interrogation when I ran my hand over my face & realized that all the metal was still in it. Shit. At that point I strongly considered yelling "HEY, LOOK OVER THERE" & shoving my septum ring up my nose while they weren't looking, but the damage was already done. I did not get that job.

6. Do not insinuate to your interviewer that you are crazy.

Sometimes you can get carried away being excited, engaging & charismatic.
Once an interviewer asked me about my attention to detail. I am a type A personality & this, my friends, is right up my alley, so I got a little excited.
Before I went off to give my behavioral based, work-relevant answer, I had to try to show off some of my personality & let him know that Mr. Ford thinks my attention to detail (and especially the details that don't seem to bother anyone else) is beyond what people would consider normal & nothing would ever get by me.

What I ended up saying is that my husband thought I needed psychiatric help for my obsessive compulsive disorder. Not good.
There was this kind of half silence, half awkward laughter followed by the interviewer telling me that the job had an amazing prescription drug plan. I did not get that job either.
Please don't insinuate to your government interviewer that you are crazy as that is counter-productive to proving to them that you are the least annoying candidate.

Please feel free to leave a comment if you have any other suggestions to add!

House saga: In the beginning there was chaos

Mr. Ford & I used savings, a generous contribution from my mother, & our wedding gift money to purchase our first house.

It is a 98 year-old 1300 square foot beast. When we bought it it had 5 bedrooms, a sun room, a porch plus a half finished basement & an unfinished attic.

We bought it because we love the character, the ability to grow & the proximity to the city centre that we had grown accustomed to. We also wanted a dog. You are allowed to have dogs in houses.

We, of course were naive home-owners that didn't know a lot about old houses. When viewing the house, we brought a friend who was an ex-Realtor as well as a contractor to give us advise on the house. All we really cared about was that the foundation was solid, the floors weren't rolling & there wasn't any mold  The house passed.

But houses tend to look different when everything is removed from them. Including the un-classy people that inhabited them. That's when we noticed the cracks in the plaster walls, asbestos tile, a furnace with a repair order from hydro & a plugged toilet. Dear god what had we done?

I feel like I should write a couple tips on the home selling process based on having been a buyer & what really upsets us (the people shelling out our life savings & more) about you (people who want our life savings).

Point #1-Please do not  leave garbage in your yards/old phone books on your roof/a lawn full of weeds. No matter how great your location, we will be insulted once we realize that all our money can buy, & all our money will go to someone who clearly doesn't give a sh*t

Point #2-If a crown corporation has left you with an order to fix something (however big or small), you should fix it. At the very least you should let the owners know that you have been given a repair order with a deadline & that it also threatens to turn off your gas services if you do not comply. I don't care if the house is sold in an as-is condition, be forthcoming.

Point #3-When a purchase agreement is made, you agree on a time that the keys are handed over to the lawyer (ie November 1st at 9:00). Please realize that if you are still in the house you sold after said time, you are trespassing & I will beat you with a broom.

Point #4- Do not take a sh*t in the toilet before you leave & not flush it. You should especially not do this if your buyers have paid you twenty grand above your asking price.

Point #5- To my lady homeowners. Please do not flush your tampons down the toilet. It may not clog your drain today, it may not clog tomorrow, but it will clog. Judging by the kind of person who does this, you probably don't care as long as it happens once you're out of there. It is people like you that make me want to propose a tampon clause. If I hire a plumber to clear my toilet, panicking that the line has collapsed & I'm going to have to dig up the yard that I tirelessly landscaped last summer, and instead they come up with a Safeway bag full of tampons, I will be mad. SHAME ON YOU! I am much too pretty to have to deal with a clogged toilet.

Point #6-Do not show your house with a broken mirror in the bathroom. Come on people, it's a mirror. You can get a great one (such as the one a replaced yours with) from Walmart for $30.00.

Do any of you have any home owner horror stories or tips to add to my list?

The turtle incident

I think that it's fair to say that my parents messed me up pretty bad, I am just effed for life, but there's a number of things that I think they did right too.

They made me an only child & I had to share their attention with no one else. They liked to travel & introduce me to different cultures (and food) and they raised me in a cabin.

Dad & MaryAnne bought the cabin at Betula lake in the beautiful Whiteshell when I was about two or three. Weekends & summers were spent there religiously.

The cabin is by no means luxurious. As of right now it is a one bedroom built on stacks & with an outhouse that you freeze your ass running to in the winter. There is a garage, deck & playhouse turned storage shed. As of about ten years ago there is also a pathway leading up to a dock & a boat launch.

In nice weather we would boat, fish, tube, hike & water ski. Not-so-nice weather is good for snowmobiling, eating big, hot dinners & watching movies on satellite. Lucky for me you also don't run in to any turtles in the winter.

I was about ten or eleven years old when me family hosted my aunt's ex-husband (we're an odd bunch) along with his new girlfriend & their family. Since my dad's passed away, I don't keep in touch much with that side of the family so for the most part, their names escape me. Let's call them ex-uncle Brian, BG (for Brian's girlfriend) & the un-named little girl (BG's child from another relationship, about the same age as me).

The weekend started out like any relaxing summer weekend.
Since the cabin is small, we'd have to help the guests set up tents or a camper. We'd all unpack any groceries they'd brought & get a fire going to cook food (for those of you that are Bar-B-Que-ers, you haven't tried anything until you've eaten fresh food cooked on a grill over a fire pit full of birch & pine. You can put a shoe on that fire with a little BBQ sauce & it'll taste good.)
Sometime that weekend we brought the guests over to the dock to fish & swim.

There was a great beach at the lake by the way, no rocks & less weeds, but lots of shallow-water leeches waiting to suction on to your toes & climb up your legs to your bikini bottoms (don't you dare assume I'm kidding, I've seen it happen). So the dock worked well as it was private & deep.

Un-named little girl really liked the water. I, being the gracious host that I am, swam around with her (although I was clearly better at it given my experience) & let her play with all of my water toys. You think she'd be grateful for all of this but then the little tramp lets go of my noodle & lets it float away.

By the time I catch on to what's going on, my beloved noodle had floated past our dock area & drifted 8 meters away in to the undeveloped, swampy area filled with rocks, weeds & god knows what else. I would have to retrieve it or MaryAnne would be mad.

I considered getting out of the water & walking along the shore to go pick-it up, but as I mentioned this was deep water so I would not be walking along a sandy beach but along an undeveloped rocky ledge filled with trees, grass & spiders.
I decided to risk it & just swim through the unknown. It would take me all of two minutes & what's the worse that could happen? I touch a few weeds & get grossed out? (If this were the case this would be an extremely short story).

I swim out, touch a few weeds (ewwww gross) & grab the noodle. Ha! Halfway there.
I am returning through the swamp/marsh & am about halfway back when it happens.

Something grabs me.
When I say 'grab' in this sense, I don't mean that it trapped me & pulled me, but I certainly don't know if the word 'bite' or 'nip' is sufficient. Better yet, something 'chomped me'.
I am an eleven year old girl & evidently a hero as I spent less time thinking
"WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON HERE WHAT JUST TOOK A CHUNK OUT OF ME?!"
& more time saying
"SOMETHING IS IN THE WATER, EVERYBODY GET OUT OF THE WATER!!!"
Which MaryAnne (my mother) waved off with a
"Calm down, nothings in there".
At that point I should have been thinking
"lady I'm going to call CFS on your ass for immediately disregarding me"
but instead though
"OK then psychopath, let me get out of the water, show you my torn limb & then while you apologize profusely for not believing me, let the lake monster get the un-named little girl".

I immediately bean to pull myself out of the water & now that (at least I) was safe, let my brain begin to churn as to what my mutilated limb would look like & what could have chomped me.
I had no idea what could be in those water. First I thought it might have been a beaver... maybe a massive river-monster style jackfish or pickerel. I knew I was in pain, but because my adrenaline was so high, I didn't know how much. Maybe I had over-exaggerated & brushed up close to a piece of driftwood?

Nope.

I got out of the water & there on my thigh was a disgusting purple circle of hate. Outlining the purple circle of hate were small red gashes trickling blood. Oh sh*t mom, It's too bad you didn't believe me...TOO BAD YOU WEREN'T IN THE WATER ALSO GETTING EATEN ALIVE BY THIS BEAST!!!'

At that point, since MaryAnne had satisfactory evidence that there WAS something in the water, everyone was pulled out & rushed over to 'inspect' me.

I don't remember too much about the conversation that ensued after wards (like I said, adrenaline). What I do remember is that no one, not maryAnne or dad or Brian or BG thought it would be a good idea to take me to the hospital to get a tetanus/rabies shot after god-knows-what had gotten it's hell-spit in to my blood steam. Yes, these the very same people that tried to force me to go to the ER after I stuck a raisin up my nose.

What I do remember is that I (luckily) felt fine aside from the external muscle pains. We continued the weekend at which time the bruise (about the size of a grapefruit) grew darker & darker. Please believe me that I make no exaggeration when stating that this bruise was BLACK. Not purple, not blue, BLACK. This is all the more embarrassing when coupled with the fact that I am possibly the whitest white person on the planet. I suppose my one claim to fame is that I was once the whitest whitey with a grapefruit sized black hole on her upper right thigh.

All said & done, I could never confirm what had bitten me. What I do know is that my dad watched around the dock area & was convinced that it was a turtle.

At first, I thought he was cray-cray. One of those cute little helmet heads that you have to slam on your breaks for so they can cross the street did not just mutilate me. Dad then told me that we were talking about a snapping turtle that looked like this:

After doing some research, I found out that the snapping turtles are incredibly territorial ASS HOLES with a 'fierce' disposition. They can grow up to 35 pounds with shells almost 2 feet long.
The turtles will eat anything that will fit in to their gullets including fish, frogs, snakes, birds, small mammals & the pasty thighs of little ginger girls.

For the next couple of years dad always cast his fishing lure over to the turtle whenever he saw his smug little head poking out of the lake. He said we'd have turtle soup & I'd be avenged. You took a bite out of me, I'll take a bite out of you right?

Blog your desk?

I'm rather desperate for some material right now & still trying to figure out what makes a successful blog (why you no comment :( !!!).
I've decided to show you whats at my desk at you-know-where (but you can't know what because my boss made me sign a paper vow of silence) workplace.

Here is your basic desk staples of framed pictures that you can look at to remind yourself that the money you make in this god-awful place will ultimately go towards your happiness & the things you love. The pictures are of Mr. Ford & I parasailing in Hawaii, Mr. Ford, MaryAnne & I white-water rafting in Thailand & my new friend Mr. Elephant in Thailand (I fed him bananas). I hope MaryAnne will see this as well as she likes to tell me that I don't have any pictures of her & in turn don't love her.

Another picture with no fancy frame because I am cheap & not crafty. Also recycling a poppy to use as a pin so I don't have to buy any. This is a photo of the day Mr. Ford had the pleasure & privilege of marrying me. My co-workers tell me that we both look creepy.

Souvenirs that I neglected to find homes for from the Japan/Thailand trip. A miso soup bowl along with honey roasted cashew nuts & wasabi peas. The items were a total of $2.80 & that, my friends is appealing to Rebecca's cheap-skatedness.

Some of the things that wind up at my desk are not erected by me. This is one of them.
I am obsessed with llamas & have informed Mr. Ford that we will raise llamas when we get old & retire. We'll have a petting zoo, a llama wool store, have llama races, sell llama eggs etc. Co-worker overheard this & printed this out to mock me.

Here is another piece of work. I don't know if these are the artist's eyes or my eyes. Kind of spooky.

This is a note husband asked to be sent with an edible arrangement. He told me that he recited his poem to the reception lady & she laughed & laughed & laughed (he thinks he's really funny). All the ladies at work now think that Mr. Ford is a real knight in shining Armour, when in reality he farts & whines & has temper tantrums. Very ungentlemanly.

Here is some love from an awesome lady named Courtney. All true by the way.

I try to walk to work if at all possible as I get about as much exercise as a sloth climbing a small house plant. The walk is 25 minutes & therefor demands proper walking footwear. Usually said footwear isn't very sexy so these are back-up cork-soled slingbacks to wear for interviews, meetings & lookin goood'.

And finally, here is Mr. Skip. He is a llama-wool teddy made in Peru & purchased for me in St. Louis by my in-laws who I'm pretty sure hate me, but may also think my obsession with llamas is funny.
Mr. Skip is the softest thing you've ever felt in your life & is so white that I am paranoid of touching his snowy fur with my dirty coffee-fingers.

Do you have strange things on your desk? Show me yours!

The raisin incident

After reading more hyperboleandahalf well in to the night, I discovered that I am interested in blogs that tell long, embellished real-life stories & thought I might have a go at it. Now that MaryAnne (mother) knows this blog exists, might as well give her a good laugh.

I must have been three or four years old when I really started to discover the magic of my nose. A strange place where I could find nose hair, wet booger, dry booger & the likes.

I'll be the first to admit that I was a nose-picker. I think all children were. To me, it feels like a progression of natural human curiosity to get to know a part of yourself you couldn't see. Even now as an adult I think most people who buy those mirrors on a stick from the dentist office care much less about the hygienic benefits, but more so want to see whats going on back there by their molars. That's natural.

MaryAnne was a nurse working overnight shifts at the hospital close by (The hospital's name is the translation for 'mercy' in another language-gives you a lot of faith huh?). We would usually drive her there at about 7:30pm where I would be reminded that bed time is 10:00 o'clock & to be good.
However by the time we got back home (give or take 7:45), I'd be left with over two hours with very little supervision from my dad being the trusting person that he was & having no experience with children before me.

My father owned a home business & was left in charge of me when MaryAnne was at work or sleeping during the day. He might smite me for saying so, but he was clueless about children & specifically about little girls.  I was not his 'little princess'.

He made me snowmobile stands for Christmas & bought me Nascar shirts sponsored by Budweiser for my birthday.
We'd go fishing, eat pizza at establishments I'm sure I shouldn't have been in late at night & I'm confident the first time he let me drive I couldn't see over the dashboard.
All that is irrelevant to the raisin incident but it might give you some understanding to how I believe my father was confused & maybe scared of me in the first place.

That night after MaryAnne had been dropped off. Dad's Biker Buddy came over (dad didn't have a motorcycle-but this friend cannot be described in any other way. 6 foot, 350 lbs, long hair in a ponytail, must be wearing at least one piece of Harley Davidson clothing at all times...).
If dad didn't know how to have a little girl, Biker Buddy had certainly no idea how to act around someone's daughter.
I'm told that he used to curse like a sailor but as soon as I started to talk, he would not utter a single word when I entered a room out of fear that he'd let one slip. On a side note, I am extremely thank-full that Biker Buddy was in my life. Being around Biker Buddy taught me to not be afraid of the people on the fringes of society & to not be misled by appearances. Biker Buddy & his family provided much emotional support to me after dad's passing, but I'll leave that for another day.

As so often would happen, dad & Biker Buddy would be in the living room talking about whatever grown men talked about in the early nineties & I would do whatever I felt like. Today i felt like eating one of those little red boxes of raisins you get at Halloween & watching movies in MaryAnne & dad's room.

What are people thinking on Halloween giving out boxes of raisins? We kids didn't want little pellets of dried fruit, we wanted to chips & candy corns & chocolate bars! It's an atrocity! That's it, I've convinced myself, this year all the kids that come to my door get prunes! Can you imagine? Kids parent's would be sending in letters to the editors about that freak & her husband in the yellow house giving out compost-matter!

As I was eating the raisins & realising that they really weren't any good, I started to pick my nose.
Yes, looking back, eating & picking simultaneously is pretty gross...I don't think I would do it again.
From there, I got the phenomenal idea to really test out how big my nostril was, I stuck in a small raisin. I don't know why but this prospect was really entertaining to me. I could sneak around the house all the while knowing that I had a concealed fruit in my nose & no one would be the wiser.
I pulled that raisin out & DID NOT eat it (I can't remember if i put it in the garbage or fed it to the dog. Poor dog). I repeated the raising in nose process a few more times which is what is really mind boggling to me.
I distinctly remember knowing that if dad & MaryAnne knew, they would be mad, but I couldn't stop doing it, the raisins getting bigger & bigger until...oh figs... the big raisin wasn't coming out.

Telling poor dad & embarrassing him in front of Biker Buddy was believe it or not, not my first choice. I sat there for what seemed like forever trying to pick it out, but I was only succeeding in pushing it further in with the tips of my useless, small-child fingers. I started to panic. I think I started to cry at which point, well now's a good a time as any to go out & tell dad.

Remember this was a while back, so the details of his reaction are a bit foggy. He did not yell or cuss as I might have expected his reaction to be. He lifted me over his knee to look inside my nose where the raisin still sat up there by my eyeball. He & Biker Buddy conferred for a moment...then they call MaryAnne.

I'm not too sure what MaryAnne suggested. What I do know is that once the call was completed, dad was on me trying to get my jacket on, telling me that we were going to the hospital. THE HOSPITAL? Ahhhhh hell no! Yeah, that's a real medical emergency there PARENTS. What a rookie call. Just saying, if Mr. Ford & I ever have kids & they stick things up their nose, I'm gonna be the 'lets just wait it out' parent. The way I see it, there's no point calling in the national guard because a soft piece of fruit is in a child's nose.

What I'm getting at is i felt the same way back then as & do now. I wasn't going to no hospital & I told dad that as I went & hid under the bed.
That being the case, dad got back on the phone with MaryAnne, who in turn went to her boss & told her she had to go home...because her daughter crammed something up her nose & it got stuck.

Now I know you all are worried that the raising somehow got up my nostril, in to my brain & caused me to have half of my face amputated, but MaryAnne came home & picked the raisin out of my nose, piece by piece with some tweezers, the rest came out when she held a Kleenex to my face & instructed me to blow.

Two lessons to learn from this experience:

1. Parents, calm the eff down, they're not going to die. You are the cause for hospitals being over-crowded & people dying in waiting rooms. Learn to be a Google doctor because I can all but guarantee that your kid is not the first to do anything. To prove my point, here is a link to the most common 'nose ingestibles' for kids. Raisins isn't on there by the way...I must be a super-smart & creative toddler genius.

2. Nothing should go in your nose besides your fingers.

It's ok to admit you like other blogs

Mr. Ford says its a bad idea to blog about other blogs, but come on, lets be honest, there are other blogs out there. Some even marginally better than mine. Although my readers are unknown to me, if you are coming back I assume we have some things in common & will also like my favourite blogs :)

A blog from an amazing at home cook I used to work with

A school lunch blog written by an 11 year old Scottish girl

Blog about worldwide hospital foods

And finally... Lady who tells stories & does stick drawings