We Gotta Find Earth...

Battlestar Galactica.


I have been in love with it since I was 4. Starbuck was my first crush. Kinda young to be going for the bad boys...my parents should have known right then I was going to be trouble.

I think I have inherited my love of sci-fi from my Dad, and his from Grampa. I remember shopping for, trying on and buying my red BATTLESTAR GALACTICA rainboots with Mom. And I had to, and I mean HAD TO have them. I loved those boots. I wish to God I could find another pair. It would warm my heart to see a pair of them on my Vivi. :)

Sadly, Mom put the boots into storage when we came to Calgary, and I never laid eyes on their splendour again. They had something on the bottom...pretty sure it was a viper or starbuck. They just rocked. No wonder all the other kids thought I was weird. I loved those damn boots. I would have wore them to Grad with my dress if it was possible.

How does a four year old even know and understand all this stuff? Well...I am sure it's mass appeal with the four year old crowd must have been the little robotic bear/dog 'Daggit'. Always keeping Apollo's adopted son Boxey out of trouble. And Starbuck the cigar smokin' pilot extroadordinaire. Sigh....

We started watching the new series and have been HOOKED. I mean, every episode is so meaty - you just want it to go on and on. Screw General Hospital - THIS SHOW should be on daily. Yes. I would love a daily fix. That would be lovely. Not likely to happen with something that expensive.... and the cinematics are amazing! If you haven't seen the Cylon Base Ships...you gotta. They are amazing.

Getting used to a new FEMALE Starbuck took a big adjustment. I mean - she still smokes the cigars. But a Starbuck with schmeebs just doesn't seem right. I'm over it now though. The dynamic works even better. (Not that I would want HER on my rainboots or anything. But I'll take Apollo - natch!)

Of course...what would the show be without the traditional Cylons in it? You gotta have that scarey red flashing strobe light. IT STILL FREAKS ME OUT! Like a roller coaster - it makes me want to pee my pants, but I love it. I love how they put the red strobe lights playing about the walls in the cylon rooms too. It creates great atmosphere.

I'm very sad to report that Toys R Us has been pretty damn lax in getting any collectibles in. I mean, they have 20 aisles of Disney Princess. Between toddler and Girl stuff - the Boy / Tom Boy product is practically an afterthought! I say we all email the head keebler elf in charge and demand some Battlestar Memorabillia! Okay - well maybe just those of us who care. And you folks who whine about gender imprinting our children better get all over it too - or all our sons are going to have to choose between Barbie / Disney / Easy bake oven if Toys R Us gets it's way. Someone has to get back into development of the boy toys. I mean - that used to be one of my favourite parts of the Sears Catalogue. The Toys R Us store in Market Mall has made it a little insignificant afterthought.

It's a crying shame.

Vivilicious

I took Vivi to Canadian Tire today. (I heard they aren't Canadian owned anymore. But I don't think that's accurate. I keep meaning to check that out. Maybe tomorrow). Anyway - she got to push one of those little kid sized carts today. Her first time. She was awesome! It was pretty damn cute. Speaking of Vivi, I had a tragedy/casualty today. I'll tell you all about it after xmas. It was very, very sad.

Coming Soon....A NEW CAT. AND YES WE ARE SOFT SUCKERS

What is mentally wrong with us? I think the animals have taken over our minds. A situation has come up where one of Binoo's UN NEUTERED siblings needs to be surrendered or find a home.

How could we not take the Binoo's brother in? How could we? I mean - we need another animal like we need a hole in the head. Especially an non-neutered variety. But Jer and I are animal lovers. And we just gotta. Poor 'Toopy' (Eddy). He went from third, to second when Charlie died (but at least he was the only cat), and now everyone comes after Binoo - making Toopy third. Now...the poor little schizo shy guy is going to be fourth. I can't imagine a littermate of the Orange Terror being Eddy like in any way. Let's hope he likes the Beaze as much as Binoo does!

Jeremy doesn't know much about him. His name is Finlay, which we like. He is some sort of grey tabby (Jer thinks). and he is a bit of a hilarious terror. Sounds Binoo-esque. And he sings. Sings? I'm not sure what this is going to be about - but once his nads are snipped, he ain't gonna have alot to sing about. Hopefully that will be the end of that.

One other thing I hope he doesn't do...BITE MY NOSE IN THE MORNING! I wasn't sure what this was about - but someone I work with clued me in. Apparently this is a prelude to the whining for food ritual. Super unpleasant way to be worken up.

>^..^<

Bird's the Word

Did this one up last night.
Lost track of time doing it. If only work felt like that.























>^..^<

Long time. No Blogging.

Ahhhh....I have once again been an absentee blogger.

But I have reasons! And as usual they are many fold. Well reasons / excuses. It's all the same I s'pose. Let's see - think September was the last time I blogged. Well, I got busy with work (When does that NOT happen?). Seriously, those bitches run me ragged - especially those that are related to me ;)

What else? Started art classes (Watercolour) at the end of September. I pretty much didn't give a rats ass about the computer or anything to do with it once I got into that. Or work. Or laundry. Or Jer. Everthing else was like the expendable crew guy in star trek. Not necessary to future scenes. ;)

(Just kidding baby!)

The classes were great! But buying the supplies almost got me divorced!!!!!!! They should really be telling you how much it is going to cost up front. Just buying everything all at the same time at the outset is 'Ooouchiewawa'. Absolutely brutal. Hundreds of dollars, then another bit to take the course. Then you get in there and it's all "You're only as good as your supplies - treat yourself" and you realize that scrimping and saving by buying the student paints and cheap paper isn't really going to help your output. I thought the instructor was on crack at first - but she was right! Everthing she said was true. Saving bucks on cheap shit makes your art - cheap and shit.

I've only done a few paintings so far. But they turned out pretty good. (As I told Jeremy - I'm definately not able to be my own worst critic. I'm so elated to see something that looks like a respresentation of what I intended come out of the efforts!!!! ELATED!!!!) We started out with a fruit/veggie still life for our first painting. We were able to shop for the 'subjects' and compose our entire painting. I almost passed out when I started and realized....I was going to have to compose an entire painting using ONLY 3 COLOURS. Yikes!!!


Then we did a landscape, again completely of our choosing, composition etc. I chose a picture we took from long beach in Tofino. (Photo shopped the little boy with the inflatable shark out. Would have ruined the 'mood'.)



Next was the portrait.

Scary Concept.

I chose Angelina Jolie.

1. She is extremely photogenic.
2. She is going to get all wrapped up with a bow and given to someone for Christmas.




I was totally pumped about the last session - the floral still life.

Turned out pretty good, but took a very long time. I never finished anyof it in class - I was too darn slow.

In fact, I never finished any of my paintings in class. The teacher was very concerned that I wasn't completing them. But I did finish every painting I started! On this flower, I faltered on having to do the vase, but it turned out okay. I didn't put a background on it. I wanted the flower to just pop off the white. Plus - I chose the piiiiiinnnnnnnnnnk lilly for Vivian. So you don't wanna have anything too darn heavy in a 2 1/2 year olds bedroom.

Then I went onto my own agenda. No more class means ~ Free at Last!!! I needed to complete my 'Brangelina' sandwich so of course I did Brad Pitt. He didn't turn out so lovely. His face went from bad, to worse, to muddied up, to fixed. Hopefully it still makes a nice sandwich with Angelina.

I did this one while babysitting a three & one year old...

(They were Sleeping)

Next Up - Flamingos. They are a pretty neat subject so I'm pumped to get going on it. Now that I have forced Cor into becoming one of my minions at the store - I'm on Auntie duty during part of my spare time. Probably a good thing or I would lock myself into the art room perpetually. It's a Christmas gift for my Mom, hopefully it works out!




>^..^<

Hmmmm....Mandarin. Think Deep. Rise to Top.

I am obsessed with personality tests!!!

I just love to take them in all my non-existant 'spare time'. They are a nice brainless why to pass time. Very enjoyable to anticipate the results. I get cranky when they get me wrong. Get irrationally excited when they get me right. It's a fun hobby. Weird, but fun. Admit it - you take them too.

(I adore those email personality things too. Thinking up snappy responses rocks! I have been known to pour over one for 4 hours to get it just right to awe and amuse my mass-email listees.

Expecially enjoyable are the ones with a bit of twist to them. Here's one from Tomorrowland:



LISA IS A MANDARIN!

You're an intellectual, and you've worked hard to get where you are now. You're a strong believer in education, and you think many of the world's problems could be solved if people were more informed and more rational. You have no tolerance for sloppy or lazy thinking. It frustrates you when people who are ignorant or dishonest rise to positions of power. You believe that people can make a difference in the world, and you're determined to try.

Talent: 51%
Lifer: 38%
Mandarin: 59%

Take the Talent, Lifer, or Mandarin quiz.

*See - it was a good result (of course it would have been 'crap' if it said unflattering things like 'people around you would rather lie on bed of nails and eat their own hair that be led by you). >^..^<

Pretty reflective of my top 3 Life Strategies:

1. Make it Happen (I am referred to as Miss "Make it Happen' at my company. And I'm talking about high up the ladder...They know I'm all about the execution and not about the excuses! Pretty bad when your rep gets all the way to the centre of the universe in Toronto. Before you ever make it there.)

2. Build a bridge...and get over it! (See number 1. strategy)

3. Everyone has an agenda (and mine is for my agenda to happen :)

Working pretty good for me to this point. I run a building full of women and it's kept the peace so far!

>^..^<

What I got up to...until 5 am this morning

I did the Fairy Free hand in HB pencil, with the wings outlined in B pencil. I took the suggestion for the pose and the wings from a fairy I found on the 'Deviant Art' website.

I've been trying to do the drawing of my two siblings and I for a couple years. My adopted Mother-in-law gave me some tips when Cor & I were visiting that helped me get it done. Pretty close representation I think. The original is on our other computer, but I will post it sometime.











The crappy reproduction is due to the drawings being photographed. My new scanner has decided it doesn't like to communicate with the Computer. An issue to resolve another time. By big J.


>^..^<

Open Letter To Mom

Sunday, August 20, 2006


Dear Mom,

This letter has been a long time coming. I have redrafted in 16 times. It has taken me 42 days to write it. Truth be told, it has actually taken me years to write it. Sometimes it is hard to do the important things in your life. But that is what life is about isn’t it? Facing the important things head on and dealing with the outcome.

I know this will be hard for you also.
Out of respect for me and yourself - I am begging you to read every word on every page.

You and I don’t see eye to eye. But we used to. We used to be so close, almost nothing could fit between us. Now – there is more than mountains. Bigger things than the Kootneys.

I love you. You know that. But what you don’t know is how much I think of you. That you are often the last thing on my mind before I fall asleep at night. That you are there in my thoughts as I drive to work most mornings. You are there everytime someone mentions their own mother.

If you knew, you would say – you don’t need to worry about me honey. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.
And I would feel like a little girl again for a minute and revel in that moment. And maybe even believe it for a bit.

We both know that it is not true. You’re a little girl right now in so many ways. And you have a lot of very big demons surrounding you. You are so deep, that you don’t think you can get out of this pit you are in. You think you are nearing the end of your life, and it is better to just give up. You want to just stop fighting the demons completely and succumb to their embrace. And you want acceptance. More than anything else, you want us to accept.

I am writing this letter to tell you that is never going to happen. To accept this bullshit way you have chosen to exist, is to give up on you. And I will not do that. I say exist, because what you are doing to yourself and this family cannot be called living by any stretch of the imagination.

Many mornings, I wonder why you have chosen this for yourself. And I wonder if even you know why. You have been denying it for so long…I think you can’t even so how the decline happened. You are ruining your life, and causing everyone who loves you so much hurt. I hate that part of you for it. I do. Because I love you so much – and I know the woman you used to be. And I remember how much I loved her and idolized her. And I want her back. More than anything, I want her back. Soon. Before you finally kill yourself with these choices.

I want at the end of your life to reflect on years of a relationship of love, happiness and giving between us. Of positive exchanges, sharing of ideas, of treating each other respectfully. Of earning each respect from one another. I don’t just want these things for myself – I want them for our entire family.

Most of all Mom, when you die - I want to be proud of you. I want people to know the struggles you have overcome in your life, and be able to say that you found yourself in the end and did it for your family. No one feels that way about you now. And you need to fix this. We all need to find the strength to help you – but most of all you need to find the strength and resolve to do it.

Life is an amazing gift. You who have held so many as they passed on from this life know that. You can not take a day for granted. You can’t take your loved ones for granted. Nor yourself.

You always talk a lot of smack about not being able to start rehab until you are ready. How we all need to accept you as you are. That would make it easy for you wouldn’t it? Why would you ever need to go to rehab if we all just accepted what you are doing to all of us?

Here’s the thing. We do not need to accept it. We don’t have to even include you in our lives. You may be our Mother – but it doesn’t give you the right to break our hearts and subject us to this stupidity.

What kind of woman would have children to do this to them? Was this your master plan when we were little? Booze yourself to death, lie and manipulate and ask your child that is struggling the most financially for money for cash when you blow it all on booze? WAS IT? No. It was not.

You really need to get your shit together.
You are better than this.
You are stronger than this.

Behaving like this is not acceptable. It is reprehensible and will not be tolerated by us. Can’t you see? You need to get to rehab or you are going to lose us. You really have all ready. We just pretend. Some of us play along more than others. We do it out of respect of what you used to mean to us.

Those days are gone. Now, we feel very little for the addict you have become. We talk. We all feel the same. Some of us are sorry for you. Some of us are not. Some of us don’t remember you any other way. Some of us long for you to get better. Some of us love you intensely out of respect of who you are – mother. Some of us say we don’t care. Some of us say it’s a sin and shake our heads. The thing every single one of us has in common is: we see through you.

I know this is tough. If you are still reading it, that is. I hate to see you cry. I hate to be the cause of it even more. But I am not a wimp. I am not someone to turn my back on my responsibilities. You raised me better than that. Sometimes I think I am the kind of person you had intended to be yourself. You can still be this person – step up and do it!

Now is not the time for talk anymore. Your words mean nothing to us. Now is the time for action. I have seen you play the ‘slow down’ the drinking game too many times to count. It is so fucked up. You just hide the booze and drink it in dark corners or behind closed doors. Before you know it – Sandy is in party mode again. Yes I am judging you. Harshly. Because Mom – I love you enough to speak the truth to you.

I have digressed from my last draft of this letter. It is hard not to. The emotions take hold and steer me down the page. It’s like driving down a winding hill, and the brakes don’t work. You just hope you can stay on the path….

I will try to get back to the last draft. It is out of care and concern that I am writing this to you. Sometimes I am mad and my tone is not one of tolerance. Sometimes I am sad for you, and my words are softer. Today I feel like laying it all on the line and sending this to you once and for all.

The last 10 years have not been kind to you. You have been snowballing down your path, and running over all the good things that have stood before you. Our relationship being one of the casualties.

Of course our relationship changed. I got smart to you and realized I had to protect myself. From my own Mother. I started to figure things out as a teenager. How many nights did I stand in that kitchen at 4015 with a knife in my hand thinking of killing myself? Too many. I have done a great deal of over-thinking, analysing, growing, blaming, healing and forgiving since you moved away from me. I feel strong, healthy and centred in my life. I am done pretending. Finished pacifying. Done sparing your dignity or the speck of self worth you have left . Now is the time for truth. For Reality.

I have worried for the future of our relationship. But I don’t see one anymore. We don’t connect. I have felt guilt. The guilt of someone who stands idle on the sidelines. The guilt of someone who has the opportunity to go on living – and takes hold of it.

This is really my final attempt to appeal to my mother. Not who you are now, but to the lady I loved and respected. She left along time ago. I want her back. She is worth whatever comes from sending this to you. Oh, I know you can be bitter, vengeful and full of spite. We all know it. And it’s not because you die your hair red. It’s because of your addiction, and the addictions of your parents. You are never receptive to the words I need to tell you. You always lash out. But in London – I had hope. You started to acknowledge what you have become. I actually treasured that. That little shred of possibility that there was a chance to get my Mom back. But you were such a jerk there. And I understood. Because your Mom died, and things were not good when she died. And I understood. Because I see myself feeling the same things and lashing out at the world the same way when it is you that passes on.

In London, I realized also what a hard time you are having managing your illness. In fact, I finally came to understand that it really was an illness. I have never seen you have DT’s before. It scared me. I was ashamed of you. It became obvious to me that you are killing yourself, and can’t even make the decision not to drink on your own anymore. And I was scared for you. I knew then that you are going to work drunk. How would you be able to function otherwise? You could not go 3 hours without alcohol. Your body won’t do it. Mom who are you now? Did you really see yourself like this at 50? As your own Mother? Didn’t you ever want more for yourself? Do you think you are any different than her? You are not. You are so not. You are your mother. And you don’t have to be. You are smarter and stronger. You have children that would support you in your journey to get clean. That treat you good.

You need to remember. Remember a time when you had more hope for your future. Remember your children, grandchildren and lovers. Don’t you want us to love you and think upon you fondly when you leave this life? Show us that we still matter. Honour us. Let us honour you. I sound like I am begging - because I am. I’m not too proud to tell you. If you were here, I would wrap myself around your leg and plead like a 3 year old if it would make any impact.

I really listened and took in everything you said about your parents when we were in London. The lack of stability. The poverty. The selfish choices they made. The responsibility that got pushed onto you. Once you were an adult, you lived a lie too with them too. Like we do - to try and maintain some semblance of a family, keep a connection. You pretended to accept, forgive and forget. Pretended to be a family.

You spoke so bitterly of your Mother and the choices she made in her final days. It was so ironic to listen to you! Like you were pulling my thoughts from my head, as though they were on a string. So much bitterness and yet you, who are so much younger than her – are making the same choices every day in your life.

I know what it is you went through as a child and then an adult. You felt that it was your role to bridge the gaps in your family. To ignore the pain of living in poverty, and going without. Of living amongst the alcoholism and the neglect. Holding onto the illusion of a closely bonded family. Trying to hold your family together, mentor your siblings. Having to behave like the adult, but not having the skills, experience and answers to fill the role.

I know you had it worse than me. I get that. It doesn’t make what we have went through acceptable. It certainly doesn’t make what you are doing now acceptable. What would make it all acceptable? For you to get better, acknowledge that the past is gone and done and to move on. Clean healthy and sober. Free from your addictions. Ready to rebuild your relationships and earn our love and trust back. By your actions. By keeping your promises. By staying sober.

You and I had always been close. I believe we know each other better than anyone else knows us. The secret us. The inner us. You know I can be judgemental, unbending and harsh. I know that you can be manipulative, deceitful and lonely. What is in common with these things we hate about ourselves? They are all products of the same thing - Your alcoholism.

I have tried to heal myself as I age. To become a better person. Removing that chip on my shoulder has not been easy. It’s what protected me. But it is not healthy, no conducive to my happiness. I know that I have to let it go. What I want is a full life. One that is full of honesty, truth, hope and love. If I live my life that way, and have those things, then it doesn’t matter if I live one more day, or 70 more years. I will be happy and have no regrets. Every day I am challenging myself to break the cycle, break down the defences caused by your disease.

Don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for the person I am today. I have a strong sense of self. I am made of strong character. I am a leader. I live everyday for me, and my family. And many people depend on me, feel grateful to be mentored by me. I have done good things for others because of who I am. I am considered to be a person of influence and held in great esteem by my peers. And I owe that in large part to you. I believed in what you saw in me. And I ran with it. For that I thank you. But you also made me strong because of the measures you put me through. It was painful. And I forgive you.

You always say you can’t stop drinking until you make the choice yourself. I always think about how you say that and ponder all it’s possible meanings. One thing that always sticks out to me is that you obviously recognize that this disease is about choices. You must then recognize that you have made daily choices that have made you this sick.

Everyday, you choose to lift that bottle, open that Rye. Toke that toke. It goes on and on and doesn’t end. Same choices day in, and day out. What do you think is ever going to be different for you? What will make tomorrow the day you ‘choose’? Your choices continue throughout the day until you pass out at the end of the night. Do you remember the last completely sober day you had? I bet you didn’t even enjoy yourself. You would have spent the day consumed with when and where that next drink was coming.

Mom, you are so far gone that’s it’s hard to see you coming back. Every day, I think when will she ‘choose’? When will she choose me? When will she choose her grandchildren? When will she choose herself? Her Lover? What in the hell will it take?

Tell Me - What Will It Take For You To Choose?
What Are You Waiting For?
What!?!
Do you think your life could get worse? Things are so bad Mom. Worse would only mean that you don’t have a roof over your head anymore, and you are screwing men for booze and drugs. It’s not a far cry from where you are now. You use men to feed your addiction. And you try to manipulate them to keep them hanging on. When they challenge you to choose them or the booze, they become dispensable. Throw away men. Like lives and love are not being affected. They are of no consequence. You are sick. This is not acceptable behaviour Mother.

You are so far gone, you would screw over your children or grandchildren to satisfy your urge. Your need to get that next drink, and the next, and then next…. If you didn’t have to piss, sleep or work I am not even sure you would leave the bar. You can’t stop once you start. This is no way to live a life.

When we call on you to be accountable for your behaviour, you pile on excuse after excuse. Then you lie upon lie to get out of it. It’s always someone else’s fault. A miscommunication.

Oh, we’ve been playing this game a long time now. We’ve heard most of them. We’ve seen you play the game with others. We know. Your story changes as you go. And this is your disease. You aren’t alone Mom. This is part of what alcoholism does.

I have been disappointed in you. But never so much as when I came down. How many times have I come to Creston? So few. Do you know why? Yes. You know why.

That last trip was one more tick to put on the reason list. You know damn well why I won’t stay at your house. Pretending you don’t know. I have told you straight out, and we spoke about it this year even. You aren’t stupid. Even if a conversation hadn’t taken place, you would know why. So, I come down. I try to have a relationship with you. One based on compromise, where I can avoid your booze and drugs. We make plans, so you can work around it and be prepared. We plan to catch you after work, early enough in the evening that you won’t be bombed out of your gourd. You bloody well know what you did that day. And I saw the look on your face at the bar. There was no ‘miscommunication’. Jesus Christ Mother! We are not stupid. And we talk. We prepare to deal with you. We try to plan what you are going to pull. We are your children and children of addicts know to prepare. We know what to expect. We are many things, but we are not stupid, and we will not be played against one another by you.

You looked like a little kid who got caught robbing the cookie jar. And then you quickly excused yourself and scurried out of that bar. Then you come into my vehicle apologizing, saying you lost track of time. Low and behold, by the time wee get to your house – you have formed a defence strategy and the story changes to ‘ you meant to call and cancel’. Imagine my surprise to be sitting at Corie’s house and hear you trying to convince her that I screwed up? I misunderstood? Dammit Mom!!! That is the kind of bullshit that you have to stop.

This is exactly why you need to get clean and sober. We hate you for playing these games. Hate you. And it kills us, and makes us cry. You break our hearts, and it makes us want to push you away. It makes us not pick up the phone when you call. It makes us argue who is going to have to talk to you when we are visiting Creston.

You are breaking our freaking hearts and you can’t be compelled enough to get off your ass and make a choice that is your to make? You rub our faces in the fact that this choice is yours to make? When and where you will it? You think when you say this that it makes everything better? It makes us furious! It makes us Depressed! It makes us Sad! It makes us broken. Because it means we don’t mean enough to you to choose sobriety. It validates that you are not going to choose us. And we cry. Everyone of us. And you just go on…oblivious to the pain you have caused us.

You just go on, believing that it is your option to choose when you want to.
That you can just make the choice when the time is right.
When the stars all align.
When what…..?
What will happen?
What is the important thing that will happen to compel you to finally get off your ass and put your mother fucking bottle down?

Because I am dying to know. My mornings and evenings are consumed with it. What will it be? What could it possibly be that will make you finally choose life?

The answer is you. But you know that. However, I also believe that the answer is me. I have to stop accepting and pretending. Reality sucks, but pretending allows you the comfort to avoid the choice. I am so fucking done allowing you to pretend. So tired of your ‘make your own choice’ bullshit.

Here’s the thing Mom. Each of us also has a choice we are allowed to make too. We have the choice to not put up with this anymore. We have the choice to not accept that we don’t rate high enough in your priorities to stop killing yourself everyday. I do not need to let you have the power over me. I am not an alcoholic. Why do I worry about one everyday? Why is this the single compelling thought I have? Why do I spend more time thinking about you and your disease then I spend working on starting my own family?

I have made the choice because you are important to me, and I don’t want to give up on you. But you are trying my patience. And the patience of everyone else. And Mom, there are people talking about you that you wouldn’t even think know about your disease. People are sick of it. And it is time for you to do something about it.

I am sick of getting screwed over. Of not being a factor in your ‘choice’ to be an addict. I matter and I am standing up to you. My siblings may not be ready but I am. And enough is enough. You are a grown woman acting like a teenager. The bar is a place you should go once a month not live. Booze is not something one should drink everyday out of necessity. The bar is not a place one chooses to go to over seeing a daughter she hasn’t seen in months.
WHERE IN THE HELL ARE YOU GETTING THESE PRIORITIES!?!
I am hostile. I am mad. And you are going to have to deal with me. I love you, and I will accept and embrace you. I will be all the things you need me to be – only if you will stop drinking. I will be your safe place to land. I will catch you when you fall. I will do whatever you need of me. You know I am dependable and worthy of your trust.

But you need to choose me. You need to choose our family and your grandchildren. Or I will hate you.
If you don’t choose us Mom, I will hate you for the rest of my life. I will never forgive you, and no one else will either. The only difference is that they may still be willing to waste the energy pretending.

But I am strong enough to take the stand. And this is it.

You need rehab. And I believe that your benefits would cover it. Employment insurance would cover you while you are away if your benefits will not – because it would be medical leave. I find it hard to believe that you would not have short term or long term that you could take for medical leave. You would not lose your job – you know this is a disease and you could sue if you did. Stop saying this bullshit. We don’t believe you. No one believes you.

My Mother is a fighter. She would find a way if there is anything left of her in there. Stop making excuses, and take some action. I want you to become personally accountable for your actions, to your recovery and this family. You need to take the steps. You absolutely must make it happen.

If you don’t spend a month in rehab – I will never believe that you are committed to this. You can’t do this alone. You can’t do it as an outpatient – you are too weak when it comes to the addiction. Your friends are losers that will be jealous if you succeed, and will try to drag you back down. You need to get strong so you can deal with them. Expunge them from your life. They mean nothing. They certainly shouldn’t be more important than your children. God help you if you choose them over us Mom.

It pains me to say this next part. But understand that I don’t come by it lightly. Seeing you drunk, stumbling towards the house with my baby nephew in your arms. Kissing Vivian with your boozy breath. Those visions have reinforced my resolve. And here finally is where I stand:

If you don’t stop drinking by the end of the year - I am done with you Mom. I mean it. I don’t know what else to do. And I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself.

I love you too much and the pain is too great.

>^..^<

EiEioooooooooooo

Took Vivilicious to Old Mc D's farm today and had an absolute blast! We saw baby piggies, goats, lambs, chicks. We saw donkeys, ponies, bunnies, a cool farm cat that looked like Frisky. Vivi got a pony ride, and we even got to check out a teepee. Very fun stuff. Will post pictures once I get over to my techie challenged sister's house and email them to myself.


Two major brainstorms today....
One is to become a stationery mogul (of sorts), and the second is....That the Dove girls need to be made into Barbie Dolls. HooYeah - I am going to start campaigning for this immediately. Get Mattel on the line! Oh wait... I hate the phone. Mass emails for everybody!

I'll admit it - I've been listening to the pink song 'Stupid Girls' a tad too much lately...But I can't help it - and hey, even Oprah is on the bandwagon. There is something important to stand up for here - and we all know it - even you horn dog men out there! Squash the testosterone Scooby, I don't blame you. If all you have is 'Girls Gone Wild' style media out there - well of course your little brain is going to consider women as little more than a skanky sex object. All you see in magazines, TV's and Movies is their T & A's pokin' at the camera these days. I believe whole heartedly that we are ruining our children, and not just the girls. When you see thongs for sixth graders being sold at La Senza girl, and women, who are hung up on being 'Yummy Mummies' or 'MILF's, buying this crotch floss for their babies - man you know society is going down hill. Seriously, we are teaching them to flaunt their funky panties in grade school now?!?! My God - This epidemic has gone too far!!! I was horrified at the baby t's in the schools, and was not happy about the mini skirts and Fu*k me sandal's. But thong panties sticking out their low rise pants is taking everything to that line that begs us to stand up and shout: "Enough all ready! Put the goodies away!" Seriously - what did happen to our dream of a woman for president ? (or in my case Prime Minister - Kim Campbell doesn't count). Why are we teaching are daughters, sisters and nieces to dress like Ho's? Is it not only logical that they will then be treated like Ho's? Then act like Ho's because that is what is expected of them? This is a huge self esteem problem that is going to have serious ramifications. What are our little boys supposed to think? Men have historically had a difficult time seeing through beauty before, when we weren't half naked in front of them starting from age 9. Now they are being taught that Woman are indeed only eye candy. We are imprinting this on them from a very tender age. And our little girls,? Bless their hearts, they are receiving the message loud and clear and aspiring to the level of mediocrity that their role models are subjecting them to - when as women, they are capable of so very much more.

So, what do you think? Dove girl Barbies - to show our little girls that real beauty means a truly individual package on the outside. One that is beautiful, whether conventional or not. I hope by the time my niece is old enough to start a Barbie collection that some Barbies have a big 'badonkadonk', and some have a Jewish nose, and some have a beautiful Indian features, and some have glasses, and some are low waisted, and hey...maybe even some don't even have much of a waist...



Wow, you know I'm ranting when I stop putting paragraphs in

>^..^<

Extra special delivery - as in Bus 'C'

I don't know about all schools, but mine had a 'special' bus for the kids that were special needs. And that my friends is a bus I am pretty sure Tom Cruise and his 'Guilty-by-association' incubator, Katie Holmes, would have been riding.

I was deeply saddened to hear that they gave birth. Here are two people that are not even married (hence the incubator status). Katie, once a role model for young women, has totally surprised me. It is rumoured that Tom Cruise has orchestrated his whole media-fest relationship. It would seem this could be true, as the tabloids were reporting the strategy before Katie and Suri were a gleam in his eye.

Katie, I am sad to see you are as vapid as the rest of young Hollywood. Here's hoping you want more for your daughter, as you parents did for you.

Little Suri: You have a pretty name. I am sorry it means 'pickpocket' in Japan. Don't let that get you down sister. My advice to you little one - don't mistake eccentricty for real passion. There is a difference. One comes from the heart and the other is all about ego.

What the?!?! How Did All These People Get In Here?

Well, I finally did it. I found my inner 'Martha' and had the family over. We've lived in our place for about 5 years - and I can count on two fingers all the gatherings we've had ~ yikes.

This was a good thing for us. It made me feel good to invite me family into my home.

Preparing for it broke me out of my doldrums and lit a spark well, under my ass. Big J's too.

How it started...I invited Corie over to see the kitten, and then I invited Tom because he was in town. Then it was my Dad and Patty's anniversary, so I invited them. Then it snow balled to Jeremy's parents, and of course, T and Spiff were coming to pick up Bubby, whom I was babysitting *ALL DAY* - Just Jer, MesbvbNQA (That last bit was Binoo adding her two sense to the Blog), Me & an adorable one year old. Whoooo Hooooo! He was so awesome for me. He loved being out here with the kitties and all our cooking utensils (man did he come to the right house!).
I CAN'T WAIT TO BABYSIT AGAIN!!!

Here's some pics:
(Some taken with my fancy new camera - What I had to go through to get it....& I had to present a plan to offset the price. Looks like Jer and Cubbie are my new hair colourists until the fall!)






>^..^<

With Above Post...

With The Above & Above Posts

>^..^<

The Binoo Has Landed!!!

Hug a Friend and patch some holes

It's National Friendship week - so my email inbox tells me. Got this - thought it was a unique enough message to post here. Gave me pause for thought. I used to have a real temper, when I first moved out from the 'Beer house'.

It also made me reflect on an incident that just happened in my life. My work responsibilities collided head on with my personal life. It's hard to be someone's boss and their friend. Well, not hard when things are good, but hard when they go south and get messy. I wondered if we would get past it...but as the story goes - scars last forever.


NAIL IN THE FENCE
Make sure you read all the way down to the last sentence. (Most importantly the last sentence) There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. " A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one. Friends are very rare jewels, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share words of praise and they always want to open their hearts to us."


Sorry, too lazy to reformat it. Good message though.


>^..^<

Seriously Bad Karma

Wow - I got yelled at twice today. Once was by a mean Doctor - and I'm not even a nurse!



Dr. Friesen - YOU SUCK!!!


Truly a professional. Professional Jackass that is.



I see a lot of spam in this man's future. Dr. F - I hope you enjoy the "Peni5ss 3nlargemnnnt Sale! BUY NOW!" or "Get Bigg3r Tit&*$S in 10 days" calibre of email. You may have been put on a few lists today.

*I love Google - thank you Gods for providing a means to get a bully's email and the tools to distribute it heavily. Amen.




That cat has meowed! Hear it roar!

>^..^<

Sad Kitty.....

Tough day at the office. These are the times when I really hate what I do for a living. Have you ever had to fire a friend? Have you ever had someone you looked out for - completely let you down?

I'm having a 'people suck' day.

...And my period is coming. Good thing I'm on the good drugs now. They are really helping with the stress thing!

Been busy since January getting back on the Course wagon. Not much time for blogging, Jer, TV or the dog. I was trying to get everything done for March 31 - and the one bright spot in my day...Tada - They gave out a one month extension. Perfect!

Getting a new kitty soon, his name is Binoo. The orange tabby I have ALWAYS wanted. Yayyyyy!!!!! Still miss Charlie Charlie though. It will be nice to have some sort of new 'baby' around the house anyway. I should really update the infertile blog soon. Next time. Gotta get to bed.

Night.

>^..^<

WOW. Me Thinks I was just run down by a MAC truck.

So much has happened since I last blogged!!! I don't even know where or how to start. It is also 10pm at night, so I think I won't really do much except give the reader's digest version for now.

My Grandma (Mom's Mom) passed away in Ontario. Trying to jog mind of what day....Been back two weeks. No one could go with my Mom. So I offered. So happy my siblings didn't have to endure that. It was horrific.

Mom drank, and drank and drank. It was bad. bad and worse.

Highlight - for the very first time in my life, she acknowledged to myself and her family the impact her alcoholism has had on me. She apologized. Promised to try.

I know it was hollow, but somehow, being validated actually made me feel like some of the weight came off my shoulders.

Have been really sick. Just the week before I had to leave for Ontario, had a scary episode of some numbness. It was in my hands, feet then got intense and went up my neck into my face. Hospital said likely MS or Fibromalagyia (sp?). Bastards - they scared the living hell out of me! Went to Dr. day just before leaving for Ontario. She wasn't convinced. Felt a bit better. She still wasn't sure what it was. Actually felt fairly well during my trip - amazing considering I spent all day every day in a tiny apartment with chain smokers. Go figure.

Came back. Had panick attacks about going back to work. Really having a hard time pretending to care about absolutely any of it. Would prefer to stick head in oven and turn on gas. Shit - no gas stove. Oh well. Back to work it is.

Still hate work. Had heart problems and pain after 1st week back. I theenk this place is bad for my he-aaaalth. Time to dust up the resume.

Went to bridal show after spending previous day in hospital. Not good. And far too many pregnant brides. Happy to see majority had hair brushed at this show (and note to the butch dread lock 'Brides': Your look is not working for you. Chop it off, wash it and shave your arm pits.)

Got told by Doctor I am too stressed out. Thinks I am having some kind of synaptic impulse challenge. Boo Hoo. and here I thought all my internalizing meant I was strong and handling all the crap life has been dealing out.

Got 100 emails on my computer at work.

Got 50 emails on my computer at home.

Lost internet connection until today at home. No time to read all the email at work.

Hate the person that invented email. How did we survive before? How did we launch 100 initiatives in a week?

Personal win - pushed my boss back and won some extra payroll! (Yayy!)
Extra points because - he didn't hold his usual grudge for the upward challenge

Reading funny book - almost done "The devil wears Prada". Think I should write a book about my boss. "El Diablo wear crooked Toupee".

Dad gave me a book. Found out something funny about him while I was away reading his book. He writes his name and the date he starts and finishes a book on the inside cover. Made me love him that much more.

Spent lot's of time with my niece lately. She is what makes me hang in there every day. I just keep thinking I have to keep it together and be a role model for her. So happy her parents made her. She's beyond beautiful. Love to the Vivi.

My sister is moving 10 minutes away. I am sooooooo happpppy!!!!!! This is going to be good. And now I can help her out a bit. And of course see my precious. We are practically going to be neighbours. Too bad I have to work. I'd rather play over at my sister's every day.

Got a copy of a picture I saw on my aunt's wall. It's of me, my baby bro and her two daughters. It was a very happy time in my life, when my entire family was close. A total treasure.

And i think that is the skinniest my legs have ever been. :)

Gotta love the similarity! My neice looks more like her

Aunt and Uncle than her own parents. I wish I could take credit for cloning her.