My Great Quote of the Day

I had an epiphany driving back from Goderich. Since moving from London, relocating to Strathroy, and now to Huron County, I have found that I am a social orphan. I feel marginalized, isolated from old friends and the social circle that I left behind. I feel different, I do not have the security blanket, that comfort of being myself, being accepted, being "normal", being understood. In it's place is more apathetic, and more gaurded self, that either emerges in your early thirties or is a result of a defense mechanism. It may be the fact that I am starting to not give a flying turd what people think. (I refuse to join Coffee Break). Well, after much ado: "I certainly haven't made many friends here. . . but I haven't lost any". (Well, at least as far as I am concerned, if I have lost some, they didn't mean anything in the first place). Nice. Nice. Almost as good as "that man smokes so much, you could pave a road with his lungs". Or (this one is from my Dad). . . "Those idiots have left their Brain Packs at home". This was when we were in Owen Sound and my father was trying to park, when suddenly a van load of geriatrics blocked him. I could envision battery fueled bathing caps left by the front door with wires hanging limp beside them. Hmmm. . . deep thoughts. I was just thinking about the Oakridge bus stop in London, usually on a cold winter day, I would forget to wash my face. Or if I did "lavez", my mother did not feel that I was squeeky enough. She would spit on her hand and strategically spot treat. Then I would feel very stiff and unable to smile, it seemed to always happen in the dead of winter, so between dry air and wind chill, my skin felt tight. Another deep thought I recalled was sterile agar and petrie dishes. We had to use them at Riverside Public School. We would shake are heads over the dishes and see what kind of mutant strain of penicillium mould would grow. I will rant more about Riverside later.

Woe is me

After hauling away 12 extra large concrete blocks, I decided to get up on the tenants garage roof. I am terrified of heights, and normally I go into a starfish manuever when confronted with ladders and any height exceeding four feet. I did it! I was able to use the ladder with ease.

Frida

Frida is going to be a big dog. At approximately 9 1/2 weeks she is tipping the scales at around 20 pounds. She went for her first "POWER WALK" tonight with a friend and I. She and her large paws were able to keep up to our gait. Now she is a puddle of puppy on the floor, large floppy paws and all. I am glad I finally got a Duffy dog. I felt so lost when we had to put Duffy down. He was an awesome dog. He loved kids, despised male Energy Marketers, or anyone who was threatening. Unfortunately his hips were failing. Frida, is wonderful, she can sit, shake a paw, stay, alert me when she needs to piddle, and now POWER WALK. I honestly believe that there should be an actual breed recognized by the CKC, or AKC, called the "Duffy Dog". Half Labrador, 1/4 shepherd, and probably some other stuff thrown in there for good luck. The goofiness of the lab counteracts the other parts, but is infused with intelligence and gusto. But before everyone runs out and goes puppy nuts, remember, the late night piddles, the way they sound like howler monkeys when they don't want to be in their crates, and the sheer exhaustion of having to constantly remove your digits from their snappy little mouths. My little Frida Bits. . .My Duffy in disguise.

These Boots Were Made for Walking

I am swooning. . .I am in love. . . make that lusting, after a pair of gorgeous boots that I tried on. Yes, they carry a hefty price tag, about as much as a month's take home pay of some poor pimply kid working at Mc Donalds, or the housing allowance of someone on social assistance. I tried them on yesterday, my foot slithered down the shaft of the boot and landed in sheepskin bliss. I was euphoric, and I still am. I can't say that I am a high heel person. I want to be, but I have issues with a heel. I feel that with my height, I am looking down on people. I feel uncoordinated. I feel like my knees are going to dislocate and I am going to come crashing down, like a tower of clothes hangers. As long as I don't need to walk, I can wear high heels. These boots, "sans heel" were the epitome of perfection. If the boot had a Platonic form, Plato would have chosen this one, stuck it in the sky and labelled it Lisa's Perfect Boot. I yearn for the boot. Chocolate brown leather that I could sink my teeth into. Yummy. So I am going to do some ebay stuff again, get back into the swing of things, and buy myself those boots. I will wear them all year if I have to. If I have to validate my ownership, and the price tag. They are not as much as a pair of Minolos, but they are pushing it. And damn it , I deserve it. I am not getting paid for all the crap that is slung at me. All the painting, all the parenting, tenant stuff, neurotic ex-tenant stuff, reno, lack of reno,dog stuff (Stella swallowed a whole rawhide bone last night, she seems okay, but I am worried about her passing it), puppy stuff, (Frida keeps stealing insulation out of my non walled house), I could rant on and on. I am entitled. When I get them I will take a picture and post it. I thought of doing it prior to my acquisition, but I may jinx myself. (Oh my God, I am obsessed, and sound so deliciously greedy). I do have a few pairs of boots that I love. My Yeti's, two pairs of Roxy boots, Nine West, a pair of Kodiak steel toed work boots (sexy in a rugged way), and my infamous pair of Come $%^& Me Boots that I bought in college. (Yes, I still have them, and they are still smokin'). I remember buying them at the biker store on Richmond Street across from The Richmond Hotel. What a rush. Anyone want to buy a pair of Otto and Marie Jelinek Vintage Blue Suede Figure Skates to feed my addiction? (They are on ebay right now).