School Shopping for the Rich and Trendy. (Me, duh!)

It’s that time of year again—autumn.  With school in its first stages (for me), I have decided to embrace the tradition my mother taught me long ago—school shopping. Buying new clothes is at times tremendously tedious, but nevertheless can, on occasion, give me quite a boost.  I need to keep up my happy countenance regarding the upcoming semester, and shopping for clothes seems like just the trick to do it.

So I was browsing online through some of my most favourite and especially trendy (because you know I’m nothing if not trendy) e-stores, and I thought to myself, “Self?  If you’re already shopping, you might as well make a blog post about it and hit two birds with one stone.”

And that’s how I decided to share all my sweet finds with you today.  Brace yourselves.  This is going to be fun.

First up…

A new semester just wouldn’t be complete without the addition of a one-piece skort/culotte/bodysuit combination:Roots CulotteThese are totally in right now.  I’m pretty sure.  Originally priced at $68.00, this fine frock was a bit too rich for my blood, but now that summer is drawing to an end (sobs!), it has been marked down to a cool forty bucks.  Not bad, considering all I will be getting with this purchase—it’s a shirt, it’s a pair of shorts, it’s a safari cruiser!  This is a definite closet staple that no college co-ed should be without.  The short, short shorts and absent sleeves will be especially perfect for the impending doom upcoming Canadian winter.  Image from roots.ca.

Next, I’m moving on to trendier stores—I mean, Roots™ is nice and all, but everybody knows if you want to be really stylish, you have to spend a lot of money.  So I’ll head to the best place I know for such a thing: Anthropologie™.

Out-of-Many sweatercoatThe exact description of this sweater-coat reads, “A cleverly crafted cover-up of reclaimed knits and cables, plaids and soft terry lining… Due to the handmade and recycled nature of this item, no two will be exactly alike.” I’m all about going green and saving the planet, so of course I will be glad to plop down $302.46 Canadian Dollars for this shapeless pile of knitting-floor feces.  In fact, $302.36 Canadian Dollars is a small price to pay for the knowledge that somebody filled one less bag of trash on garbage day because of me.  It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside (and that’s not just because the reclaimed knits are so cozy).  Good thing it came from Anthropologie™ and cost me $302.36 Canadian Dollars, or people might think I am a hobo with suspiciously clean fingernails.

Of course, no fall semester of school would be complete—especially in Canada—without a new pair of boots.  Despite the confidence my first two style decisions have given me, I am nevertheless a little anxious about this purchase.  See, I know I need a pair of boots to be cool, because that’s just a fact of life: all the cool girls wear boots, and the very coolest girls wear their skinny jeans tucked into their boots. So I know I need boots.  But the problem is, even though I’m an expert at picking out skorts and reject sweaters, I always worry about boots—I just never know what looks good!  I don’t know how to wear boots.  It’s a scary decision for me, so I just decided to go ahead and play it safe with these Sanuk Shag Boots from the Buckle™ (again with the cool store—cool store=cool digs=cool girl=that’s me!):

Shag Boots

So cute, right?  I KNOW!  I heart them so much, especially the sweet little crocheted detail at the bottom.  I’ve watched enough What Not to Wear to know that, when dressing oneself, one must always focus on the details.  Even though I was sort of unsure about these boots, I really think Stacy and Clinton would approve.  If I want to, I can wear them with my African safari skort getup, which would show my legs from thigh to calf and would totally be super hawt; or I could wear them like the model:

Sanuk Shag Boots(See what I mean about all the cool girls tucking their jeans into their boots?  It’s just the thing to do.)  But it sort of makes her look like she has way huge bell-bottoms on, and that’s like, so retro in the NOT good way, so maybe I’ll pass on that…

clydesdale horseEither way, you can be sure I’ll look smokin’ hot, just like everybody’s favourite beer horse does when she wears her boots.  Image from here.

Lastly, I decided to treat myself with an eye-catching accessory for the upcoming semester.  Since I’m so trendy and fashionable, I happen to know that the item everybody needs this season is a Statement Necklace…as in, a necklace that makes a statement.  So first I thought I could save some money and just dig out my old “Friends” half of the “Best Friends” necklace I split with my BFF from elementary school, because that would make a very good statement—it would say, “Friends,” and there’s nothing friendlier than that.  It would automatically tell all the other kids in my classes that I’m totally approachable and friend-worthy.  That’s the kind of statement I like to make.

Best Friend NecklacesImage from here.

But then I remembered that I have to spend a lot of money to be cool, plus I didn’t feel like climbing a ladder to the attic, so I decided to head back to Anthropologie™ for my last stop of the day.  And that’s where I found this amazing statement necklace that is totally perfect for me:

Collar NecklaceWe’ve already established that I love two-in-one pieces, so it’s only obvious that I would fall in love with this fabulous pearl/collar/bow trio.  Talk about hitting a million birds with one giant stone!  This statement necklace says, out loud, for everyone to see, “Hi, my name is Camille and I’m totally extravagant enough to pay to be cool.  You wish you could be as cool as me.” It costs $178.31 Canadian Dollars, but if you divide that number by three, it comes out to being only $60.00 per function!  Sixty dollars for a string of pearls, sixty dollars for a giant satin collar, and sixty dollars for the bow (which, by the way, is so enormous that I can use it to wrap it up as a gift to myself—so now that’s FOUR functions in one!).  In a moment of cheap-o-ness, I almost grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the collar off my great-granny’s fancy Sunday dress to wear instead, because it would look exactly the same and nobody would know the difference, but I decided against it because one, her dress is like, a family heirloom or something; and two, it wouldn’t cost enough money for me to be cool.  Free is totally lame.

Anyway, I know it’s boring slash sad to see what I get to spend my gobs of money on, when all of you are probably just too poor or maybe practical to be frivolous like me, so I’ll end this mini brag sesh, mmkay?  Oh, but don’t worry if you’re sad about me being done—I’ll make sure to report when all my new stuff comes in the mail.

Posted in design, fashion people, It's All Good, like-it-link-it | 12 Comments

Chipper

I’ve made a paradigm shift in my life this semester—did you know?

It’s true: I’ve decided to be happy about life.  Happy about school, specifically. I complained my entire way through last semester, and even though I passed with good marks in the end, I was so bitter about the process of receiving those marks, I couldn’t even enjoy the satisfaction of knowing I’d gotten them.  It was ridiculous.  By April, I was seriously depressed.  It was not a happy time for me, and that’s the main reason I’ve been dreading the start of another semester.

But you know?  It doesn’t have to be like that.  I have the power to mold my own destiny.

I know, I know—all that motivational bull hockey is poison for the soul.  It annoys me, too, but it really does work.

This semester, I decided to try an experiment.  I should’ve been a chemist, obviously.  After my first day of classes last week, I phoned Poor Kyle to give the report.

“So, how did it go?” he asked, and my mind’s eye could see him cringing, bracing himself for the onslaught of hatred and bitterness that is usually seething out of my brain after a day at university.

“It went great!  It was fantastic!” I replied, the picture of cheerfulness.

“…Really?”  My husband was suspicious—such jolly words were not normal for me, so naturally, he assumed I was being sarcastic.

“Yeah, really.  I like my classes, I like my teachers, I am thrilled with my schedule, the readings this year should be interesting…it went great!”

I went on to explain, in detail, all the good aspects of my day, leaving out any part that would deter me from my goal of utter happiness.  Poor Kyle made interested comments, and was genuinely happy that my day had gone so well.

I realised that if I had instead said what I’d been plotting to say for most of the day [i.e. school sucks, words suck, I suck, life sucks], it would have been a much shorter conversation.  Nobody ever knows what to say to an unhappy person.  I mean, what is there to say, beyond “I’m really sorry?”  Not a lot.  But, when there was real happiness and excitement to discuss, we couldn’t fit the conversation into my 45-minute drive home—it spilled over into dinner, and later, into dishwashing duty.  Being happy about life has had a positive effect on my marriage.

At first I had been faking my contentedness, but I found myself actually believing it by the end of the day.  How about that?  I controlled my own emotions.  Where first I was feeling angry and bitter, I made myself feel positive and hopeful.

It hasn’t all been perfect, though—later that day, I ran into Poor Kyle’s good family friend at Costco, and I had a little slip-up in my experiment.

“How was school today?” she inquired in front of the produce section, where I was headed to look at buying a giant vat of plump grapes.  (Barb’s a loyal blog reader and therefore knew that I had started a new semester that day—so sweet of her to ask how it went!  Hi, Barb!)

I started out cheerfully enough, but by the end of my report, my voice was dripping with sarcasm:

“It was great.  Fantastic!  I loved it—every bit of it [here’s where I started getting carried away].  I love paying $200 to park 2 miles away from campus.  I love my idiot professors who pile on loads of papers and readings.  I love it all.  Why do you ask?”

She commiserated with me as best she could, and we parted ways.  What more was there to say than, “I’m really sorry?”  Nothing.  If I can’t look on the bright side of my own life, I can’t expect that anybody else will, either.  After she left to pay for her grocery cart of goodies (because fact: Coscto=joy), I silently rebuked myself for failing to maintain a positive outlook.  Patsy Pessimist has no friends, because nobody likes to talk to life-draining people.

I killed my inner Patsy Pessimist last week—at least, in terms of school.

School is great.  Fantastic!  I really do have a lovely schedule—much better than last semester.  I leave and return home while the sun is up, and there’s a really good talk show on CBC radio during the exact time of my commute.  I am in a situation where I can afford to pay for a parking pass—much better than when I was at ASU and had to stealthily park at various businesses surrounding campus.  I lived in fear of receiving a parking ticket, which ultimately I did.  Thus far, I have avoided such a fate at this University.

So you see, there are a myriad of lovely aspects of school, and the bad stuff?  Well, the bad stuff is getting shoved under lock and key.

It might build up and explode someday, but I am forcing myself to wait at least until finals are over—I need to channel all my energy into passing these classes.  Cheerfully.

Posted in change, kid stuffs, my edjumacation and me | 14 Comments

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome

I’m such a hypochondriac.  Any time I feel the slightest bit of discomfort, I immediately diagnose myself with some horrible—and incurable, obviously—disease.  It’s a real problem.  My doctor had to start screening his calls because of me.  I’m not kidding.  Typed below is a transcript of a call I made on Thursday morning.  (Calls may be monitored or recorded for quality assurance, you know…I figured, “Why not?”)

OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT: [09/10/09 8:02 a.m. MST]

Good morning, Mayberry Medical Clinic, this is Monique speaking, how may I help you?

Hi, Monique.  How are you this morning?

I’m pretty good, and yourself?

My self is lousy—why else would I be calling the clinic? Do I sound like a telemarketer?  Are you an imbecile, Monique?

No, I don’t think so…

Well, I certainly hope you’re just the receptionist and not the nurse.  I can’t be having a daft nurse looking after me.  I’m very sick, you know.

Oh, I’m sorry.  I hadn’t heard.

Well, you’re hearing it now.  Yes, Monique, I’m very sick.  I’ll probably be dying pretty soon.

My gosh, that’s awful!  What is it you’re suffering from?

What is it from which I suffer, you mean?  (Under breath: I guess they don’t teach proper grammar in secretary school anymore…) Well, it’s really bad.  It’s…CTS.

CTS?  As in…Carpal Tunnel Syndrome?

Yes.  (Deep sigh.) Yes, that’s it.  I can hardly bear to hear the words.  Isn’t it horrible?

Well, yes, it is horrible, but…well…

What, Monique?  Don’t ramble on so—I have very tender nerves, and you’re irritating them!

I’m sorry.  It’s just that…I didn’t realise Carpal Tunnel Syndrome was fatal.

Well, it’s highly uncommon.  In fact, I am the first person in the history of the world to die from it.  But that’s typical of me—if it were possible to meet my maker because of an ingrown toenail, I would probably do it.  I have very bad luck, Monique.

Yes, it sounds like it.  Well, is there anything I can do to help you?

As a matter of fact, there is.  That’s why I’m calling.  I need to speak with Dr. Meade.  Is he in today?

Yes he is.  What can I tell him you’re calling about?

Oh, I have this terrible pain in my wrist, and I’d like him to take a look at it.

…  … … But…isn’t that caused by your CTS?

Well, naturally it is, Monique!  For heaven’s sake—I know I said I’m unlucky, but do you really think I would have two wrist problems coinciding at the same time?

Well, all I’m wondering is…  Well…

What is it, Monique?  Weren’t you listening when I told you my nerves can’t handle dawdling receptionists?

I’m sorry.  What I mean is…if you already know you have CTS, and there’s nothing that can be done to save you from certain peril, why do you need to see Dr. Meade?

Oh.  Well…I haven’t been diagnosed yet.  But I’m sure it’s a fatal case of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome—I looked it up on WebMD and I am suffering from all the most extreme symptoms.  And I’m positive I’m going to die before I see the age of 23.  Is Dr. Meade in?  It’s urgent that I speak with him.

Umm…[muffled voices] as a matter of fact, he was here, but now he’s not.  He…  He’s gone.

Gone?

Yes.

Well, where did he go?  Can you fetch him?  Does he have a cell phone?  What kind of small-town physician doesn’t have a cell phone?  It’s urgent that I speak with him as soon as possible!

Ummm…well [muffled voices]…he…he quit.

HE QUIT?  As in…he quit his JOB?

Yes.  He says…he says it’s just not worth it anymore.  He says if he wanted to deal with shit all day he would’ve been a plumber.  That was a quote—I don’t normally swear in front of patients.  I’m very sorry.

Oh.  Are you sorry for swearing or sorry that he’s abandoning me on my deathbead?

I’m sorry for swearing.

Oh.  Okay…well…thanks.  Thanks anyway.

***CALL ENDED: 09/10/09 8:07 a.m. MST***

Does anyone have a good home remedy for the Carpal Tunnel Syndrome?  It looks like I’m on my own.

Posted in fiascos, health and vitality, It's All Good, mediocrity, mondays suck, oh brother what next, woe is me | Tagged , | 18 Comments

Remember 9.11.01

I know it’s good to move on and everything, but it just feels right for me to be a little somber today.  It bothers me—ever so slightly, but still—to see this feature article on msn.com’s main page:

9/11A nice little tribute update…

…followed by these:

msn.comCountries with the best-looking locals…

msn.com2…and fall fashion dos and don’ts.

Really?  Can we not just have one day of reflection? One day, without filling our minds with thoughts of Michael Kors, cities with fantastic public transportation, and whether or not hypnosis really works?

It all seems so trivial, and, in my opinion…not quite fair.

FDNY_FF_with_axeImage from here.

The events of September 11th, 2001 changed America.  Things have not been the same since then.  I think about that day every time I get frisked at airport security.  I think about that day every time I see a soldier.  It started a war, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t have a friend or relative who died in the Trade Center, but I had a little piece of my country die.

And I felt my patriotism grow.  That day in my Sophomore year when I was sitting at Mimi’s Cafe with the entire student council (it had been picture day—we got out of school all day to go get photos taken and then have lunch), when I almost couldn’t eat my blueberry muffin for worry that my secret crush would get drafted before we could ever get married (like I said, I was a Sophomore {grade 10, Canadians})…that day changed me.

I don’t remember September 11th for just one day every year—I think about it all the time.

Please pray for our soldiers today.  Not just for one moment of silence, but all day long.

Is that too much to ask?

Please, I’d like to hear what you remember from that day.  If you aren’t American, what was it like in your country on September 11th?

Posted in change, I hate change, in all seriousness, introspection, looking back, sad things | 20 Comments

Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

My days of freedom are over.  Tomorrow morning, I go back to school.  To university.  So I can travel down three more English courses along my road to becoming a graduate.

One might safely argue that I have never really been free; since the day I was born to two white-collar professionals—educators themselves—I have been a slave to the written word.  Language is my master.  It hovers over me, dark and ominous like the shadow of a whip-bearer, ready to strike me with a thousand lashes at the first sign of a comma splice.  Or a sentence fragment.  {Oh, wait…that was a sentence fragment.}

I am The Hypocrite.  Occasionally, I pester my own husband to go back to school…to get a degree; but I never nag for long.  I don’t blame him for not wanting to go back. I am the first to defend the pursuit of higher education, yet I turn around and become the first to bemoan my own “fate.”  But it’s not fate.  I could jump the track—change my course—at any time.

I’ve considered it—don’t think I haven’t.  Not a day has passed these last four months that I haven’t wished, if only silently, to drop out.  To unroll from my courses.  To skip town and head to L.A. where I would work as a waitress {not really a waitress, but a frustrated movie star waiting to be discovered}, living on love but not even that because Poor Kyle would never follow me to California.  It is a fantasy of mine, so if you’re an agent looking for unearthed talent, please email me here: camille[at]archiveslives[dot]com.  I am good.  Let’s talk.

But I won’t do that.  English won’t let me.  My roots won’t allow me to be a college dropout.  Even if I never get a paid job writing like some in-laws who shall remain nameless suspect; even if it takes me twelve years to graduate because I can’t stomach spending $1,000+ per class on a full course load each semester; even if my degree doesn’t launch me to the top of that mythical corporate ladder; even if nobody ever reads a word these arthritic fingers type…

…I still have to graduate.  I’m going to do it.  There’s no sense trying to talk me out of it.  That’s that.

So on this, the last day of freedom I never had, I broke some rules.

First, I alienated myself from approximately half the population of my hometown by proclaiming a political opinion.

Then, I refused to make my bed…

unmade bed…but only because I never left it all day, instead choosing to immerse myself in e-drama and an old classic…

Wuthering Heights(…which I’d never read until now).

And when I finally unglued myself from that place of comfort at oh, five in the evening…

White after Labour DayI went outside.  In public.  Wearing white. After Labour Day.

How’s that for sentence fragments, slave master?

I’m all kinds of faux pas these days.

Ready or not, school—here I come.

Posted in introspection, my edjumacation and me, self-actualisation, woe is me | 16 Comments

SAVE THE CHILDREN FROM THE DEMOCRATIC MADMAN!

***I don’t usually get political.  But when it really matters, I feel I have no choice.  My apologies.***

I was shocked when I heard about the outrage many parents felt when they learned that President Obama would be addressing their school-aged children today.  (Actually, my first reaction was “Dang, that’s cool—Clinton and Bush never bothered to talk to me when I was in school.” My second thought was, “What’s up with the overzealous conservative parents?”)

I received many forwarded emails from parents concerned that their children would be forced to listen to the President of the United States—they could not believe that he had the gall to speak to their precious darlings.  What would he say?  He’d try to impose his left-wing political agenda on their innocent minds, to be sure.  He was probably secretly planning a plot to brainwash the children and use them as pawns in his game of taking over the world!  THIS IS JUST HOW HITLER GOT HIS POWER, BY FORMING HITLER YOUTH!  OBAMA IS A NAZI!

I literally read, with my own eyes, a forwarded email from a woman, writing to the superintendent of the school district from which I graduated (Mesa Public Schools), who was pulling her children out of class during the scheduled broadcast.  It was a woman I have met and respect—she sent me a toaster for my wedding (thanks for the toaster, by the way!).  I could not believe how anxiety-ridden so many parents were over Obama’s speech to the children.  THE CHILDREN!

Now that he’s given it, of course, I can see that the concerned parents were totally validated in their protests.  OBAMA IS THE HITLER OF THE NEW CENTURY.  GATHER YOUR FOOD STORAGE AND HEAD FOR THE HILLS.  SAVE YOURSELVES.  And most importantly, SHIELD YOUR CHILDREN FROM THE SINISTER FORCE THAT IS UPON US.  It’s for your own good.

The man started out by telling the students that it’s understandable if they’re nervous to be starting school, and that he knows the feeling of wishing he could stay in bed for just a little longer before school.  Can you imagine?  The president of the United States encouraging the children to feel validated in their exhaustion?  Clearly, Mr. Obama was trying to lure the children into a false sense of security—he wants them to feel like they can trust him.  Just the sort of thing Hitler would have done. RELATING TO THE VICTIM IS THE FIRST STEP TOWARD BRAINWASHING, you know.

Then, he went on to say that the students had RESPONSIBILITY for their own educations.  IMAGINE!  Giving America’s CHILDREN their own FREEDOM to take their LIVES into their own HANDS!  The very nerve!  Everybody knows CHILDREN AND TEENAGERS CAN’T BE TRUSTED WITH ANYTHING, least of all their own LIVES!  Just look at what he said {emphasis added by me, but you KNOW he would have added it himself as part of his brainwashing scheme if he were the one writing this post}:

But at the end of the day, we can have the most dedicated teachers, the most supportive parents, the best schools in the world — and none of it will make a difference, none of it will matter unless all of you fulfill your responsibilities, unless you show up to those schools, unless you pay attention to those teachers, unless you listen to your parents and grandparents and other adults and put in the hard work it takes to succeed. That’s what I want to focus on today: the responsibility each of you has for your education.

That’s right, my friends.  Barack Obama told our children that they need to take responsibility for their own education.  I have no doubt that he fully expects them to belly up to the bar of the democrats.  There are HIDDEN MESSAGES here, but I can see them CLEAR AS DAY!

But that’s not all!  He goes on to say that an EDUCATION IS IMPORTANT.  He says that the FUTURE OF AMERICA DEPENDS ON THE CHILDREN.  Psh.  As if, Barack. He says that they’ll need knowledge and skills that they learn in school to go on to become productive members of society—CLEARLY, this man is thinking of the future of the country, when what we need is HELP RIGHT NOW.  Why think about the future when we have problems in the present?  Tell me something: What politician do you know who thinks about anyone but him or herself?  DRAWING A BLANK?  That’s because there ARE NONE.  I smell something fishy…

But wait!  There’s more!  He continues:

I get it. I know what it’s like {AGAIN WITH THE RELATING TO THE CHILDREN!  THE CHILDREN!}. My father left my family when I was two years old, and I was raised by a single mom who had to work and who struggled at times to pay the bills and wasn’t always able to give us the things that other kids had. There were times when I missed having a father in my life. There were times when I was lonely and I felt like I didn’t fit in.

So I wasn’t always as focused as I should have been on school, and I did some things I’m not proud of, and I got in more trouble than I should have. And my life could have easily taken a turn for the worse.

THIS MAN IS TELLING THE CHILDREN THAT THEY CAN BE RAISED IN SINGLE-PARENT FAMILIES AND STILL MAKE IT OUT ON TOP!  The very nerve.  EVERYBODY KNOWS that THE CHILDREN will only succeed if they are raised by ONE MOTHER and ONE FATHER.  Everybody knows that. Barack Obama is trying to FORCE ALL OUR CHILDREN TO GROW UP AND GET MARRIED AND THEN GET DIVORCED AND WREAK HAVOC ON THE FAMILY.  THE FAMILY!

He tells OUR CHILDREN to write their own destinies, and make their own futures…the next thing we know he’ll be telling them they can think for themselves, and THEN WHERE WILL WE BE?  WHERE???

And then!  THEN! Barack Obama’s three examples of persistent, responsible students were named, “Jazmin,” “Andoni,” and “Shantell.”  Do those sound like AMERICAN names to you?  I DON’T THINK SO, BARACK!  Why not “Bob,” or “Sally?”  Why not use some good, old fashioned AMERICAN names for examples?  I’ll tell you why—because Barack Obama is an IMMIGRANT LOVER!  HE WANTS ALL THE IMMIGRANTS TO HAVE BETTER JOBS THAN THE REAL AMERICANS!  And there is nothing we Americans hate more than having our jobs threatened by an ILLEGAL ALIEN.  THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!!!!!!!!

As if that isn’t bad enough, Obama goes on to encourage our children to value hard WORK, and to practice and STUDY.  Why?  Because, according to Barack, “WHEN YOU GIVE UP ON YOURSELF, YOU GIVE UP ON YOUR COUNTRY!”  Well, I have news for President OBAMA: We are not on this earth to FIGHT for our country!  We are here to look out for number one.

He finishes up with a transparent call to action (just the kind the Nazis would have loved) PRACTICALLY FORCING OUR CHILDREN!—THE CHILDREN!—TO TAKE A VOW OF SERVITUDE TO THE PRESIDENT HIMSELF!  Look what he says:

What’s your contribution going to be?

I expect great things from each of you. So don’t let us down. Don’t let your family down or your country down. Most of all, don’t let yourself down. Make us all proud.

See?  Right there—he expects GREAT CONTRIBUTIONS from EACH of the children.  He didn’t say it in so many words, but what he meant—WHAT HE COMMANDED THROUGH SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE BRAINWASHING SUPERSONIC RADIOACTIVE AIRWAVES—was that each American child bring something of value to the table of the LIBERAL POLITICAL AGENDA.  “MAKE US ALL PROUD?” Make WHO proud, Mr. Obama?  Make YOU and your left-wing liberal crusaders proud? I DON’T THINK SO!

...Phew. I’m glad I got that off my chest.  I tell you what, it’s a sure-tootin’ good thing I don’t have children to defend from this democrat madman, because ALL HELL WOULD BREAK LOOSE if my kids were forced to sit in class and be told by their country’s president to work hard and stay in school.

That is just not the message I want them to hear.

Posted in fiascos, It's All Good, kid stuffs, oh brother what next, reviews | Tagged , | 40 Comments

Labourious

Happy Labour Day, everyone.

I don’t labour anyway, since the government of Canada deems it illegal for me to do so.  So today is just another day for me, except Poor Kyle is home, which is always good.

We will now proceed to spend the next 24 hours arguing whether or not we should get a dog.  He says yes.  I say no.

Happy Labour Day.

Posted in Married Life, mondays suck | 16 Comments