Not so much with the "up on politics" thing

This week, Saskatchewan lost two prominent political figures.  One, Allan Blakeney, a premier known for his work in Crown corporations, health care, etc.  The other, Serge LeClerc, a politician who started out in a rough life and spent his last years helping youth in Saskatchewan. Every one in the province was devastated.

I wasn't one of them.  I mean, I felt bad that someone was dead.  I just had no idea who they were.

I've heard the names over and over again in my youth.  I recognized that I knew the names, but had no idea why.  When I got to work this week, one of my coworkers started talking about how sad it was that Serge LeClerc had died of cancer.

I perked up because I'd just heard his name on the radio and I love to be informed on things that I normally don't care about.  I mentioned I had heard about his death on the news.  And then I inserted my foot in my mouth.

Didn't he used to play hockey or something?

There was stunned silence before the laughter rang out.  No, Bron.  He's a politician.  He did a ton for Saskatchewan youth.

Oh... yeah...  I knew that.

I also like to make people uncomfortable

I've been in meetings for the last two days.  At first I wrote "all week" but then realized it's only been two days.  It only seems like a week.  Imagine putting 150 of the most opinionated people you know into the same room and then start discussing things no one can agree on.

It's magic.

Seriously.  Today, we spent 20 minutes on whether we should put "and", "or" or "and/or" in a clause.  That wasn't even what we were supposed to be talking about.  I might have lost my temper a tiny bit and reminded them all that we were adding one word, it wasn't "and" or "or" and their discussion was moot.  I might have called them all morons, but it's possible that part was just in my head.  I hope.

I have some great people sitting at my table with me and that is all that has kept me sane.  We each shoot funny lines at each other when something stupid happens and we all seem to be on relatively the same page.  We relaxed around each other pretty early in the event.

So, I wasn't thinking anything when I pulled out my date book to start looking at my schedule for the next few days.  One of the women I've gotten along with quite well took a peek over my shoulder.  She noticed a small event I had penned into tomorrow's date.

7 years.

Laughing, she pointed and asked what I was trying to remember.  My anniversary? My child's age?

No, my mom died. 

Well, that was a fun way to kill the mood.  Everyone looked at me.

I just write it down.  I know, it's not like I'll forget.

More silence.


I send reminder cards to my siblings too.  Just to be a jerk.

What else could I do?

 ** Note: this post contains real words used for female anatomy.  If that freaks you out, please feel free to look at these puppies.  **

Sometimes, I just can't help myself.  Someone lobs a ball into the air and I need to hit it to the bleachers.  And sometimes, that's in public.  I can't help myself.  I'm my father's daughter.  As much as I hate it.  And love it.

At the women's conference (or, Yay! I'm a Girl! conference) this week, I had one of those moments.

The speaker on the first afternoon was fantastic.  She was a Lutheran Pastor who specialized in talking about women and sex.  It was the greatest thing ever.  I loved it.  She was energetic and honest and surprising.

At one point, she was talking about the discovery of women's anatomy.  She commented, "In 1559, Renaldo Columbus discovered the clitoris."

What could I do?  I had to say it.

"And no man has located it since."

Isn't it your favourite?

Conversation with co-worker:

Me: That is my favourite paint chip!
Her: You can have a favourite paint chip?
Me: You can when it's in the shape of a grasshopper.

Grasshopper paint chip

Dogs are better than babies. Down Syndrome midgets are second.

The Guy will often chase the dog around the house, swoop him up into his arms, and cradle him on his back like a baby.  Monty alternately hates and loves this game.  He frantically tries to escape his rocking position, but his tail wags like crazy.  All the while, The Guy croons "Who's the baby?"  (He is going to KILL me for writing that,, but seriously, how cute!?)

One day, I was watching them and commented.

Me: You know, we could just have a real baby and then Monty wouldn't hate you.


The Guy: True, but Monty is cute and little.


Me: Yes, but a baby is cute and little too.


The Guy: But Monty will be cute and little forever.


Me: Maybe we could have a Down Syndrome baby.   They are adorable and stay cute forever.  Wait!  Maybe we could have a Down Syndrome midget baby!!*  Then the baby would be cute and little forever!


The Guy: ...


Me: What?  That's a perfectly acceptable option.


The Guy: I think we should just stick with the dog for now.


Me: Fine.  Party pooper.


Sometimes, I'm not sure The Guy knows what to do with me.



*Yes, I'm aware I will likely go to hell for this and/or be chased and linched by numerous groups for my horribleness.  Meh.

I'm funny all year round - in spurts

I'm starting my "year in review" early.  Here are some of my favourite things I used as statuses on Facebook and/or Twitter. I've linked to some of the more recent and/or more popular. 
January

• would just to say that she has the greatest fiancee in the world.
• would just like to say her fiancee broke into her facebook and posted about how great he is.

February

• is amazed. Facebook guru says 22 friends find me sexy. Only 22??
• enjoys the word "fartwhistle".

March

• just got Cheez Whiz on her mouse. This is causing mobility issues. And tastes weird.
• "There is a limit to how many corn dogs a person can eat in a day." "Yes, and the answer is six."

April

• I'd push an old lady off a roof for you. This was one of my two most popular ones.
• I'm learning patience. I'd rather learn immediate gratification.
• I'm so hairy, people are going to start paying admission to pet me. This was the second of my two most popular ones.

May

• fixes your grammar in her head.

June

• If you're standing on a corner, you'd better be crossin' or workin'.

July

• What's a pony good for anyway?
• This broccoli tastes suspiciously unlike chocolate.

August

• There are no hard fast rules for the plural of "tranny".
• I cannot buy popsicles without hearing the voice of the creepy old man from Family Guy.
• Dear Today, You are cold and unfriendly and I feel we have nothing in common. It's over. Yours truly, Bronwyn

September

• The dog keeps farting in my general direction.
• Back from Las Boobies. I mean, Vegas. Boobies. Vegas. Boobies. Vegas.

October

• I think I have Seasonal Affective - I HATE YOU LEAVE ME ALONE
• Most of my life can be summed up with "Dammit, that wasn't what I meant to do."
• I would like to be more popular. I'm cute. I'm funny. Tell your friends. I'll wait here.
• Lost my tweezers. Am now growing a uni-brow.

November

• What do you call a "widow's hump" when you don't want your husband dead?
• I pet the dog and told him what a good dog he is. He was in the other room. This blanket is really well behaved.
• It is so cold out, "fartscicle" isn't just a phrase.

December

• I didn't want to tweet or post until I was in a better mood. Then I realized you may never hear from me again. And I can't do that to you.
• Grandma said it's not a bad thing to change who I am to make The Guy happy. She did say that. But she can't from the trunk. Can you, Gram?
• The dog looks afraid whenever I hand fed him something. He eats boogers without hesitation, but an apple? Better be cautious.
• I always suspected Jamie Lee Curtis cared about my intestinal health.
  
• When I can't think of a word, I act it out in order to remember it. I really hope I don't try to remember the word "naked" in public. Again.
• Does this insomnia make my eyes look fat?
• Come January, I'm on a diet. I'm going to lose this extra 20 pounds if it kills everyone around me.
• I'm having a first world problem -- my office is using third world toilet paper.

More airport conversations

When you've had too little sleep, too much caffeine, and too long waiting in an empty airport, you get a little punch drunk.  Hence my spazz out about the mosquito in my bra and my obsession with seeing Brian Williams. 

Ky was taking quite some time coming through customs and she told us she was third in line for being searched, we realized we had a wait ahead of us.  We also realized that the more Ky is innocent, the more she looks like she's up to something to be guilty about.  We figured it was only time before the synthetic gloves came out.  However, Ky assured us she only brought back magnets and toothpaste, but this is exactly the thing that gets people like Ky into trouble.


They think Ky's a terrorist.  I mean, toothpaste and magnets just spell terrorist.
She's like the MacGuyver of PhD students.  I bet she could make a bomb* out of it.  
They are emptying each tube of toothpaste right now making sure nothing looks suspicious. 
Into her hand!!  And then they will be like "Okay, you can put it back now".

Ky did come out a few minutes later.  She was being searched just on the other side of the wall and could hear us quite clearly.  I'm really glad they didn't call security on us.



*Not to be confused with boob.  Although, I am sure she could do that too.

Celebrity Germs

Since Ky was taking forever to clear customs, I thought I should share my brush with famed Brian Williams with her.  This was our text conversation about it.

Guess whose butt germs I have on my pants?!?

Janny's.

No! Celebrity butt germs!

How can you get celebrity butt germs?  It is Roche Voisin?*

Nope, but good one.  It's the announcer for the Olympics.  The anchor dude.  Brian Williams.  He heard me talking about a mosquito in my bombs.**



He heard you talk about mosquitoes in your bombs and so he put his butt germs on you? Pervert.

Ha! That was awesome.  No, I'm sitting in the chair he sat on.  My butt has brushed with fame.

I keep thinking that Brian Williams will be writing a blog post somewhere about these two weird women he saw in the airport and how he hopes they didn't follow him to his hotel.  Although, if he really knew me, I am sure he wouldn't think I'm entirely stalker-like.  Right?




*This as her first option makes me incredibly happy.  I do love some Roche Voisin.  However, he is not the only celebrity lame enough to come to our city.  Recently we had AC/DC and also Debbie Reynolds.  But not at the same time, that would just be a really weird concert.


** My T9 insists that when I write 'boobs' I actually mean 'bombs'.  So, I leave it because I find it funnier.  I now refer to them as my bombs quite often.

Not so bright. Me, not him.

Actual conversation about Monty as he was tearing around the house like a mad dog.

Me: He has lots of beans.
The Guy: You mean, he is full of beans?
Me: Yeah. That.

Things I wish I had not said - Part 397

"I think I just got Off in my eye."

Oops 2

The Guy's standard answer for everything is "A kick in the ass." My answer for what I want for my birthday has been "A poke in the eye."*

You can tell I got a little confused between the two when my brother asked what I wanted this year. I replied "A poke in the ass."

That's not quite what I meant.




*My other standard is our family's favourite. "I want a new bum. Mine's cracked."

Oops

After my last post on the cowboy pictures, I emailed larger versions of the pictures to my siblings. I figured they would want an up close view of the items to decide if they wanted to keep them. I attached the pictures and sent them off. A few hours later, Ky emailed back with just a simple, "Um, what?"* I looked at the email, trying to figure out what didn't make sense. It was then I looked at the subject line.

Subject: Larger pictures of Dad's stuff.

Oops. That wasn't quite what I meant. At least I didn't say "junk" instead.



*In Ky's defense, she didn't know why I was sending the pictures. She wasn't commenting on my accidental inappropriate subject line.

Twit this

This is what you've missed if you don't use Twitter.

Side notes

During a report today, I went to write "she racked up a great deal of..." However, I stumbled. For the life of me, I could not remember how to spell "racked". Is it with a "w" or without?? I thought and wrote both options and could not figure it out. So, I changed the sentence. To "she accrued a great deal of..."

Yes, I could spell accrue, but not rack.

*******************

After a meeting, my friend and I were chatting about suggested changes to the maternity leave clause of our contact. I was explaining to her that our salaries would be topped up for 15 weeks of the 52 we are getting Employment Insurance. We plan to try for 26.

I said "So we're going for 26 months top up". No, she assured me, it wasn't 26 months.

"Right, don't know what I'm thinking. Sorry. So, with the top up for 26 years, it should be really easy to..." No, not years. Unless that is the greatest maternity leave ever.

"Months." No. "Crap." I stopped and thought about the word I meant to say. I sounded it out in my head and knew what I meant. For sure I would get it right now so I could explain myself clearly.

"26 months." Dammit.

Maybe I shouldn't be on the bargaining committee.

Saturday lazy

Mandy Lou at A Very Merry Unbirthday has presented me with 5 interview questions. So, in an effort not to think more than I have to, here they are.

1. You just won a million dollars - how are you going to spend it?
Woo hoo!!!! Nah nah nah nah poo poo. I won and you didn't. WOOO!

Now, what to spend it on? First, I would pay off all my debt and that of my betrothed. Then, I would give a huge chunk of it to each sibling, my father, The Guy's parents and sibling. Then, I would start working with an architect to design the greatest house ever. And then I would go shoe shopping. Actually, I might go shoe shopping first. What? You thought I would donate to charity?

2. What piece of technology can you not live without?
My laptop and the internet. I would have a melt down. I have gone from not even having a home computer (in the old days of doing stuff and talking to people) to spending hours a day radiating my lady bits with whatever radioactive things come out of my computer. I go into absolute panic if I cannot check my email every day. Preferably, every hour.

3. What did you want to be when you grew up?
When I was youngest, I wanted to be a teacher. But, I grew up and realized I hate kids and I don't care if they learn. Then I wanted to be a cop. That lasted from the time I was twelve until I was in university. I wanted a gun and I wanted to punish people.

Then, I got tossed into a practicum at a place doing advocacy for people on Welfare. And I fell in love. With the people, the idea of helping people, being brought into their homes, being asked to solve their problems. And here I am. Crisis worker extraordinaire. Seriously, that's what it says on my name tag. Of course, I had to write it there.

4. If there was one thing you could change about your personality what would it be?
If I could change anything about me, it would be my judgmental nature. However, then I would be less funny. But I would also be less offensive. But, judging people is funny. So, it's a tough call.

5. If you could spend a month away on vacation (money and language are no issue), where would you go and what would you do?
I would go to Ireland, Scotland, and England. I would wander small towns and live in each for a bit and wander again. But that would take more than a month. So, for a month, I would want to go to a tropical island and lounge.


And there you go, people. I hope you have been thoroughly entertained. If not, screw you, I don't have to please you. (Please love me. PLEASE????) If any of you want to be interviewed and possibly scarred for life, follow the instructions below.

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions. (please make sure I have your email cause that helps when trying to actually email someone)
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. Be sure you link back to the original post.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

Oops, I did it again

Watching TV tonight, a commercial came on for a wild life resort. The tag line stated that to take part in the joy all you needed was a reservation.

I looked at The Guy with a confused expression on my face and said "A reservation?"

After a long pause, he turned to me incredulously and said "Not an Indian reservation. Like a reservation. Where you call and book a spot."

Oh.

Two degrees, people. I have TWO degrees.

Using your head

Since The Guy got Rockband, it has taken up a large part of our conversation.

The Guy: Today I played that Weezer song on the guitar while I sang.

MayB: Really? That's great. But how did you hold the mike while you were playing the guitar??

The Guy: [grinned knowingly and tapped his finger to his temple twice]

MayB: You taped it to your head?

The Guy: No, Bron. I bought a mike stand.


Oooooh. That's what you meant. I would like to remind you, I have two degrees. Yup. Two. I am SMRT.

Now that's commitment

The day before The Guy proposed, I was chatting with my friend Jess. She mentioned she had seen The Guy coming out of a store with something awesome, but she wasn't going to tell me in case it was my Christmas present. When he proposed the very next day, I was sure she knew something. So I called her.

Did you know what he was going to do?
What are you talking about?
Yesterday, when you said he had something awesome. Did you know what he was going to do?
I'm still confused.
Did you know he was going to propose?? (sounding frantic now)
What??? He proposed? That is great!! Congratulations!! (tells everyone at the office.)
Did you know?
No! I had no idea. I saw him coming out of the store with a Wii. I thought it might be your Christmas present.
I could have had an engagement Wii??

I teased The Guy for awhile that I wanted one. Maybe we could register for it? Then, today I went over to The Guy's place and he was putting together a Wii. Complete with Rockband! I was so excited. I finally got my engagement Wii.

Now, I want my wedding Wii fit!

chirp, chirp, chirp

Alternate title: When dead Mom jokes fall flat.

There are two types of people. The kind that are sad (and likely considered appropriate) about death and the kind that remember the funeral where a kid bumped into a fake wall and pushed over an old lady who was standing on the other side. We mock it in an order not to give it more power than it deserves.

In other words, we are sick bastards about it.

In our cases, we make "Dead Mom jokes". They are only funny to those of us who've had the experience happen and who revel in making other people uncomfortable. We are known to comment, when we've done something horrible, that Mom will be "swirling her ashes".

Come on, that's gold!

So, New Years Eve comes along. One of the girls comments that a friend isn't coming because her dog has had a tumor removed. The dog isn't at home -- it's in another city sleeping off the anesthesia -- but the girl cannot leave the home because of the dog's tumor. In comes my dark humor.

That's ridiculous. I went out the New Year's Eve my mother had a tumor!

*silence and awkward glances*

Later on, they mentioned the girl would be able to keep the tumor. Again, why do I not shut up? Instead, I said: So not fair! They didn't let me keep my mom's tumor.

I think I traumatized the entire group. In other news, when I die and get to heaven, my mother is going to kick my ass. I will likely spend my first few days in Glory sitting in the time out chair.

News

On December 12, 2008 at approximately 2:15pm, The Guy proposed. To me.

I was not expecting anything. We had gone for waffles at Denny's for lunch as we usually do when we have a day off together. I paid (as he said later, It was her turn!) and we went for a walk outside around the local lake. It was the last nice day before the horrible weather was supposed to hit, so it was nice to get outside while we could.

We walked for quite awhile before returning to the frozen marina to sit on a bench and watch the world go by. After some time, The Guy reached into his pocket. I assumed to get his car keys. But no, he pulled out a wooden jewelry box.

I still didn't clue in. I thought "That bugger. He already bought me a Christmas gift. If he got me something else, I will kill him." I thought he'd gotten me a necklace or earrings. But no.

He told me he bought me something and opened the box. A beautiful ring lay there sparkling in light. I burst into tears. All I could say was "Holy crap! Holy crap!" while I processing the whole thing. Then it dawned on me.

"I'm wearing a Rider toque!!"

But I finally figured out what was going on and what I needed to say. I believe my exact words were "Yeah, okay." but considering how hard it was to get my brain to work, I'm not surprised.

So, yeah, I'm engaged. To get married. Wild.