Room to Breathe

My eyebrows were starting to get a little messy (to say the least), but it’s nearly impossible to get my bf to take me to the mall to get them waxed during our regular weekend errands.

However today it “fit”, and I was able to once again look human.

The girl who usually waxes my brows was off. I was a bit reluctant to try someone new, but a quick inventory of the other girls’ brows, and my anxiety resided. That’s how I gauge people abilities (it’s not 100% accurate). If you have triangle clown brows, I don’t want you near mine. Because if that’s what you think looks good….

Anyways, during my procedure, the girl asked me asked me what products I use for my face (they’re always trying to sell). “Yes I use some of your products.”, I said. She tells me, “whatever your doing it’s working, because you have really young looking skin. I don’t know how old you are, I can only guess your age by how you carry yourself.” I asked her what she meant by how I carry myself. She continued saying, “Because you didn’t walk in here all giggly, and you speak intelligently.” Uh ya, I’ve been this way since I was 16. But I didn’t care, she made my day! Telling me that I had very few signs of aging, and minimal sun damage. SEE! My 1/2 hour “bathroom routines” have paid off. Wash, exfoliate, tone, moisturize. All worth it.

But the reason my bf hates taking me to get my brows done, is because he thinks I don’t need it, and I always buy something that he feels I REALLY don’t need.

Whatever. I stocked up on toner, bought a new moisturizer, and was given a sample of a new mask to try.

Just then I see my bf coming. I quickly stuff my purchases into my purse, and hide the amount on the credit card receipt I was signing. Phew. He didn’t see.

I figured it out. If he doesn’t see it, I didn’t buy it. Even if I only walked out carrying eyeliner, he’d see the bag and start to lecture. Who needs that? It’s just easier to hide it, and then we’re both happy . I’m not even married and I’m already learning!

Tonight my Grandma was complaining that a few of her friend’s had failed their driving tests. She whined, “it’s not fair! They’re 80-years-old, and haven’t had a driving test in years. They aren’t used to the new rules!”.

Uh, new rules? The only things I can think that could have changed, are the different distances (from a curb, fire hydrant etc), and perhaps the dollar amount of damage in an accident before you call the police to report it. That’s just the written exam though. I’m not sure if you have to take that when you turn 80. Besides, there’s a handbook you can get from the Ministry, and most of it’s just logic. But Grandma was talking about the road test.

So I told Grandma, “Grandma, if you are 80 and you fail your road test, there’s probably a good reason.”

She hates it when I speak logically, and she continued to whine. “But they only had trouble merging on the highway. One of my friend’s got on too early and wasn’t up to speed; the other friend got to the end of the on-ramp, and had to stop.”.

“Exactly!”, I said. “Everyone is speeding along on the highway doing 120km/h and some old guy decides to merge doing 80km/h? OR some guy - from a stopped position - tries to get on the highway. Grandma, does this sound safe to you?”

“We’ll the speed limit is 100km/h. The other people on the highway shouldn’t be speeding.”

“Grandma.”, I stated very matter of factly. “Your friend failed his road test for merging doing 80km/h! He has the full length of the on-ramp to gain speed, and must be up to speed before merging. Do you not see the danger in this? The person behind him must brake, causing the person behind him to brake, and the person behind him to brake, and so on. Potentially causing an accident!”.

Fuck. This is going no where. She’s never going to get it.

Last week I was able to thank the woman who saved my life. Well, theoretically. Afterall, I still could be hit by a bus.

Four months, 2 weeks and 1 day ago I quit smoking.

I don’t even think about it anymore. It’s as if the past 13 years of my life didn’t involve planning my days around sneaking out for a smoke, standing outside freezing my ass off in the winter, and getting pneumonia every year. But reading TJ’s post tonight reminded what it was all about.

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I decided to rent a movie tonight. Lazy hot-stay inside-Friday night. However I made this decision after already passing Blockbuster, and it didn’t make sense to turn around. So I stopped at my local video store.

Rows and rows of VHS. Geez. I didn’t think they still existed! I’m happy to see though that their DVD section has grown to nearly a full wall now. And *gasp* they had more than 1 copy of Constantine!

So I grabbed a movie, something light with little substance I was hoping for, as I didn’t feel like a thinking movie tonight at all. They were out of Ice Princess (don’t laugh). So I grabbed Alfie. Meh. I saw Marisa Tomei on the cover and I think she’s cute (and Jude Law duh!). Either movie I didn’t figure anyone else I knew would want to watch, so I might as well see it now while I’m alone.

I take my “tag” to the counter, and the woman asks me my phone #. (Phew. Thought she would want a card. No clue where that could be!) And then she wasn’t my “secret word”. Damned if I could remember; but I got it. She said, “well since it’s been 2 years since you last rented here, and you had trouble remembering your secret word, then you probably won’t remember that you have a late fee.”

I asked her for what movie, and she said, “Good Girl“. I had to go look at it on the shelf to confirm that I had actually seen this movie, since she didn’t know what it was or who was in it. Yup. Jennifer Aniston. I shamefully had seen it. Couldn’t tell you what it was about, but I knew it wasn’t worth seeing again. I guess that night was another one of my “light-little substance” movie requirements too!

So the transaction had finished, and she said, “Ok. So that’s due back in 24 hours.”

24 hours! How the fuck are you still in business?

God I miss my Blockbuster.

I won’t be around much today, I have to go and help my dad bale hay. Yup, that’s right. I’m a former farmgirl, turned city.

For anyone who doesn’t know what “doing hay” is, it’s the worst part of farming IMO. Lifting 50-100 pound bales continuously sideways or above your head, on the hotest days of summer. And you shouldn’t wear shorts, because you’ll scratch your legs up, and it takes weeks to heal (stings like a Mother F*cker too when you shower afterwards). Luckily, I get to drive the tractor mostly; but then I get to unload. Unload in the barn which is even hotter than being in the field, since there is NO air movement.

The picure below isn’t me, but it might as well be since that’s exactly what it’s like. Except with me on the tractor, and my dad on the wagon. I’ve been doing this since I was 7-years old.

There have been only few times in my life where I possessed a quick wit. Today I was reminded of one of those times:

A few years ago I worked in a convenience store. A job which was great while I was in school, but that I probably kept too long.

One day a man walked in smoking. Normally when I would say, “I’m sorry, but there’s no smoking allowed in the store.”, people kindly respond with, “Oh! I’m so sorry.”, and chucked their cigarette outside.

But this day I got an asshole who was going to make my life difficult. I advised him that there was no smoking, to which he responded in a “duh” sounding voice, “but you sell cigarettes.”.

To which I responded, “Yes, but we also sell condoms. That doesn’t mean you can have sex in the isles.”.

He put his cigarette out.

We stopped at the Post Office today to get a package weighed shipped etc. (what else would you do there?), and the lady behind the counter starts making casual conversation.

“Nice out today, eh? Not as hot as it’s been lately. We’ll no humidity anyways. Did you hear they’re talking about changing daylight savings and extending it?”

What? So here’s our government (matching the US to alleviate confusion), thinking about delaying the autumn time change in an effort to save energy with artificial lights. As if time zones weren’t confusing enough! If we don’t change our time in Canada to correlate with the states, I couldn’t imagine the confusion! An hour makes a big deal when you are trying to consider business hours, or when someone goes to bed.

So I learn this, and then we went into Costco to pick up a few things. They have Hallowe’en items for sale already! I’m mean, not a whole isle - yet; but give it a week. Plus, they’re fully stocked up hockey supplies. Hockey bags, sticks, tape…please. It’s 40°C/104°F outside, it’s JULY, an ice-cream cone will melt on it’s own in 30 seconds, but Costco’s all ready for the next season. I’m shocked to not see any Christmas items for sale yet. I’ll give that 2 weeks.

Over the years I’ve developed a certain amount of paranoia. In most cases, with good reason. From having strings and tape put on doors and cupboards growing up, to finding key-loggers and backdoor viruses installed on my computer. My cousin has me believing that someone is listening to my phone conversations, and refuses to speak to me if I am using my cordless phone. Why? Because he knows how easily people can intercept the call, because he does it. Why does everyone want to know, or care, what I am doing?

So when I was browsing my bf’s Ebay items sold and purchased, I didn’t know what to think when I saw he had bought a “Mini Wireless Color Spy Camera and Receiver” and a “Video Capture Surveillance Recorder”. I was like, WTF??

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My youngest brother is getting married in September. Thank God he’s doing it first! He can make all the mistakes, and I’ll just sit back and learn from them. I’ve feared my inevitable wedding for years. Well, as I grow older and older, it seems less and less inevitable.

My family, summed up in one word, is FUCKED. They’re weird. The whole bunch of them. We’re talking my dad’s side here. They do so many things that just aren’t considered normal in regular society. As individuals, they are fine; but put them together….

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I got this from Guppy Man.

Washable, reusable, fashionable and environmentally friendly PADS.

I’m all for saving a tree and a buck, but this has gone too far! We’ve come too far with technology to go back to the RAG!

The sad thing is, I know if I sent this to my Grandma, she’s start making them now for Christmas for our stockings.