Get it off me!

We live with what The Husband says are the two dumbest animals on the planet. We seem to have a knack for rescuing the stupid ones. This, of course, makes them a constant source of entertainment.

One night, as we were putting the groceries away, we were throwing the empty bags in a pile to be balled up when we were done. Kitty, being the curious (yet timid) cat that she is, began sniffing all the bags. Following some intriguing scent, she found herself all the way inside one of the plastic bags.

I don't know what triggered it, but she was suddently spooked. All four legs were splayed and the claws were bared. The plastic bag exploded in shreds.

But in her haste to escape, Kitty managed to wrap one of the handles around her head. She was running from room to room, trying to get away from the shredded plastic bag that was flying behind her. No matter where she turned or hid, the evil plastic bag was right there. If she ran faster, the bag only made more noise and chased her more!

The Husband and I were laughing so hard we couldn't even help her.

To this day, if you rustle a plastic bag near her, she'll run and hide under the bed.

Nicole and Richard

Our regular route for walking the dog takes us by a house owned by a nice older German couple who have an old dog named Cody. If they're out, we stop and chat and pet each other's dogs. Puppy is fussed over by the nice lady and gets treats from the nice man.

We stopped last night for a chat. The nice lady was going on and on as she usually does and in her rambling says "I was telling Nicole last night ..." with a vague wave in my direction and carries on with her story. We nod and smile and interject the proper vocal sounds at the appropriate points. It's not easy to get a word in once she gets going.

We finally get on our way. Once we are out of earshot, I lean over to The Husband.

Me: "Who's Nicole??"

TH: "I think that's you."

Me: "I guess Nicole sounds French to Germans."

TH: "Well, growing up, I used to get Richard a lot."

Me: "That's cuz you're a dick."

The E-GO Train

On the way home last night on the GO Train, I sat in my usual car, in my usual quad and continued reading Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. I'm at a good part, so I was immediately engrossed in the book, lost in the magic of J.K. Rowling.

A very tall, very good looking black man sat in front of me. Shaved head, beautiful brown eyes. We played GO Train Tetris and made room for our legs, but as all GO commuters know, there ain't a whole lotta room.

I continued reading.

I'm not sure how long it went on before I noticed -- I was reading a good book after all -- but Handsome was rubbing my calf with his leg. Very subtly. Slowly, lightly. Up, down.

I glanced up. He smiled. Not an apologetic smile.

A promising smile.

I shifted my leg over a bit. A few minutes later it was happening again. I shifted. He moved. We played this game for a while. Me pretending to read my book, him pretending to be doing this by accident. And every time I looked at him, there was that promising smile. It was both erotic and disturbing.

I pulled out my Blackberry to text Alex. She'll have some advice.

Me: There's a very good looking man sitting in front of me playing footsies. What do I do???

Alex: Play! There's nothing wrong with flirting! (Oh ... good advice Alex!)

Me: He's rubbing my leg!

Alex: That's different! Toes only!! No leg rubbing!!

Me: But he is cute.

Alex: So was Charles Manson!

My stop is coming up and I get ready to leave. As I stand up, I step on his foot (I swear it wasn't on purpose!). Now I'm a touchy, feely sorta person and I reacted to this as I normally do.

I put my hand on his knee and squeezed and said "I'm so sorry!" I know -- WTF?! He smiled that promising smile of his and said "No problem." There was no doubt that this translated to 'You can step on me any time!'

Is it hot in here or is it just me?? Let me tell you that there was a spring in my step all the way home.

Of course, I had to tell The Husband. He laughs, shaking his head, and hugs me. "It's the booty and the new hair colour. See, babe, you still got it!"

My ego is now enormous. We're having architects come to the house today so I can get my head through the door.

Under the "B" ... Boy!!

BJ and I are Bingo Junkies. When we lived closer to each other, Thursday was our Bingo Night. We would talk and talk, sharing hopes and dreams ... and copious amounts of chocolate!

BJ tried for a long time to get pregnant and it just wasn't happening. Different methods were tried, but in the end, IVF was going to be the only solution. This is a very expensive venture and they simply didn't have the money.

She was sad, I was sad for her. But the Universe has a funny way of balancing things out.

BJ phoned me one day to say that her Hubby took her to bingo to cheer her up. Hubby won the jackpot ... enough to pay for IVF!

"This is a sign," I said. "You MUST use that money for IVF. And when the baby is born, you MUST name it Bingo!" So throughout the pregnancy we referred to the baby as Baby Bingo ... BB for short.

BJ was a few days overdue and getting very restless. Hubby fell back on the ol' standby and took her to bingo one night to relieve her boredom. Where she went into labour! BJ is sitting there, dabbing her numbers, watch in the other hand, breathing and staunchly refusing to leave before the session is over. You go girl!

BJ is now the proud mother of a baby boy. They decided to name him Cooper, although the rest of us don't see the problem with naming the kid Bingo.

I think Dr. Bingo -- or even The Honourable Justice Bingo -- has a nice ring to it!

Happy Birthday, Mum!!

Today is Mum's birthday.

My Mum is cool! Ask anyone. I bet even strangers would say she's cool.

She never held back when I asked her the serious Life Questions. In fact, I watched my first Adult Movie with Mum.

I was 16 and had just read Ordeal by Linda Lovelace. For those not in the know, Linda Lovelace is famous for her role (position??) in Deep Throat. I was curious about the movie and asked Mum if she'd seen it.

"No, actually. Wanna rent it?"

"OK!"

So we had Movie Night.

I have to admit, we laughed our heads off the entire time. The dialogue was hilarious. "Mind if I smoke while you eat?"

Aaaahh ... good times!

Well, Mum, here's to you! Mother, teacher, confidante and friend.

I love you!

Shrubs and Trees

Was chatting with Barna Boo and M'Licious about the Olympics and drug testing. Barna Boo mentions Dick Pound (former Olympic Committee Member and anti-doping proponent).

M'Licious: (eye brows raised!) What was that name? Dick Pound??!

Me: Sounds like a 70's porn name

M'Licious: All he's missing is the pornstache and big bush (waving her hand in front of her Hoo Hoo)

Barna Boo: My eyes! My eyes!!

Aaaand ... we're back

I absolutely love going to the States -- the Land of Customer Service.

May I help you?
Would you like a refill?
Have a nice day, Ya'll.

God Bless America!

Even the bratty kids at the breakfast buffet were polite enough to say "excuse me" before they shoved their way through.

Unfortunately, the goodwill of the American People couldn't infuse happiness into The Girl who just couldn't (or wouldn't) get into the Family Vacation. Perhaps the next vacation will be sans Girl.

* * * * *

After many hours at The Henry Ford Museum:
Me: "Did we see everything?"
The Husband: "Well, we haven't seen George Washington's camp cot."

Two moms with two little boys at Chick-fil-A:
Boy: I hate you! (hits other boy)
Mom: We don't say that!
Boy: I was talking to the floor.
Mom: You were talking to the floor?
Boy: Yeah ... I hate you, floor!

Gone Fishin'

I'm on vacation – YEE HAA!! I won't post again until at least August 15.

We're not camping this year, as we have done for the past 13 years. Instead, we are doing a road trip. We're doing a road trip because The Girl is nuts. For some odd reason, The Girl doesn't want to go to an all-inclusive resort, which was our first choice.

To me, vacation equals a large expanse of water and some bronze god named Miguel bringing me fruity umbrella-laden drinks every 30 minutes. It's important to maintain a nice buzz.

But The Girl doesn't want to experience this Eden of vacations. We tried to entice her with the fact that she's 18 now and can legally drink at these places. No sale. sigh

So we're doing a road trip. Which excites The Husband to no end. He is completely absorbed in the reconnaissance of the trip. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely love this about him. There is a map on our dining room table with Post-Its all over it noting locations of hotels we're staying at, sites we'll visit, restaurants we'll eat at and potential shopping centres. He's got it all covered. Even locations for movie theatres if it rains or we're bored. We have several CAA Tour Guides and a Trip Tik that he printed and bound himself – in colour no less! He presented the Trip Tik to me last night, grinning like a fool. His exuberance is quite infectious. You can't help but get excited about the trip.

Where are we going, you might ask? And even if you didn't, I'm telling you anyway.

First, we're going to Detroit. We'll visit Greenfield Village, the Henry Ford Museum and tour the Ford Plant. We've been to Greenfield Village and the Museum before and I've been itching to go back. Both places are fabulous! The Henry Ford Museum has a temporary exhibit while we're there on the history of Chocolate. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa!

After a couple of days in Detroit, we're back on the road heading East to Ohio to visit Cedar Point Amusement Park. The Husband and I are roller coaster junkies. There's something cathartic about screaming your head off at 100 mph.

We were at Cedar Point a couple of years ago and absolutely fell in love with Top Thrill Dragster.

This coaster is 42 stories high – straight up and straight down – moving at an incredible 120 mph!! I CAN'T WAIT!!!

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

We Aim to Pee ... I mean Please.

Taped behind every stall door in our washroom at work is a sign:

This is simple, to the point and is – in my opinion – crystal clear.

I was at my shiatsu therapist on the weekend, and when I used the washroom, I saw this sign behind the stall door:

Also crystal clear.

Good thing I was already in pee-position when I saw this cuz I would have had an embarrassing accident; being as I could probably star in my own Tena commercial these days.

Who the heck needs to be told not to pee on the floor?! I'm pretty sure my momma had the talk with me about not peeing on the floor. "Fille, ne pisse pas sur le plancher." Probably followed by un bon claquer sur la tête. Clearly some women didn't have this enlightening conversation.

I can barely hover, let alone squat on the toilet seat! I'd end up peeing on the floor, breaking Rule #1, which would defeat the whole purpose of squatting in the first place. And who are these gifted women that can squat on the toilet seat AND hold their balance?

I think a new Olympic event is in order. "Look at that balance, Hank. She's been holding it for hours and she is managing to wait until she is in perfect position. She had problems with her dismount in trials. Let's see how she does. Oh! Too bad!! She peed on the floor. That's an automatic disqualification."

Now, I'd like to point out that my office washroom – with the polite sign – is a bit manky. The shiatsu washroom – with the in-your-face-don't-pee-on-the-floor sign is spotless.

Hmmmm … maybe these instructions really do need to be spelled out – in several languages.

'Relaxing' at the Spa

I had a wonderful day on Friday with BJ at the Holt Renfrew Spa. We lunched at Holt's Café where we were served by the most delicious gay waiter. We were pampered at the Spa with massages, facials, pedis and manis. Followed by drinks at Hemmingways, where I had a martini and BJ had a Guinness (it was her turn to be the butch).

While drinking and nibbling on snacks at Hemmingways, we perused the price list for Holts, pondering what our next visit was going to include.

Then I read the line that said "Virgin Relaxer … Upon consultation". Hmmmm … Holts is really expanding their product line.

BJ and I started debating what this Virgin Relaxer consultation entailed. Was there some guy hung like a stallion that gently crooned the entire time? Or was it more of a discussion with a grandma-type woman who ensured the young candidate that all women had to succumb at some time and if you just think about your To Do list then the time will pass quickly?

Most important … why was there no consultation when it was MY time??