So this homeless dude got on the bus yesterday.
I knew he was homeless because he smelled of alcohol and seemed to have difficulty keeping his eyes open.
Normally the bus drivers don't let people on if they're really smashed, but this guy was borderline and had his pass ready so he got away with it. He started talking to the man sitting behind him; they were both Eskimos and most of them are cousins here so they are always pretty pally with each other.
Anyway, Homeless Dude was telling his "cousin" about how he was nice and warm the previous night because he was dressed in lots of layers. I particularly enjoyed his observation that went like this "You have to dress for Winter; well I do- I'm homeless!"
He also made the profound comment "I'm almost 50 now; I can't work any more..."
Going on that logic I only have 5 more years of slaving away at the office before I can retire, but if my retirement home is to be the Great Alaskan Outdoors I'd rather continue with my career such as it is, thank you.......
Also going on that logic, it sounds very much like Homeless Dude actually CHOSE to be homeless???!!!!
I mean I really DO like my home comforts, and although it is true that alcohol always seems to be in plentiful supply for the homeless people I've seen, there does seem to be a serious lack of hot water, soap, internet and nice hot cups of tea, so I think I'll stick with my job....
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
I am now 20% more eccentric.......
I am British and therefore eccentric, if the stereotype is anything to go by.
Actually, maybe I am a little eccentric, but that's good as far as I'm concerned; we all know how boring our little blue planet would be if we were all the same.
The dictionary definition of eccentric is "unconventional and slightly strange" and I'm completely ok with that. I feel that life is just too damn short to worry too much about conforming to society and what a bunch of complete strangers think of me. As long as my loved ones love me back and are not overly disappointed with me, that's all I could wish for.
To this end, I wear brightly coloured tights, flowers in my hair and FAR too much colourful makeup for a woman my age (if you are to pay any attention to "fashionistas and style experts"- which I don't). I wear these things on a daily basis, be it to work in my little office, or to the local supermarket, or just at home when nobody is looking except the dogs.
I read that dogs cannot see the same colours as people anyway, and they do not judge anyone unless there are no biscuits forthcoming, whereupon they judge very harshly.
Last weekend I outdid myself. I had seen a lovely Pony dress in Hot Topic and was instantly attracted to the pretty colours and style, and was just waiting for the "Hot Cash" promotion. I knew that if my size dress was still in stock on that date, then it was indeed waiting patiently for me and I should buy it immediately or risk the wrath of the Shopping Gods, and you NEVER want to risk that. Ignore these signs at your peril, for if you do, you will never find a bargain again, simple as that.
So upon entering the shop and not seeing MY Pony dress you can imagine how I felt; those tiny stirrings of panic that maybe I waited too long and my bluff had indeed been called. I asked in a plaintive voice where the Pony dresses were, only to have the assistant find them hidden behind something else that wasn't half as pretty. Maybe they hid them so as not to blind customers with their beauty, or maybe it was just another of those constant stock rotations that shops do all the time to try and force you into buying stuff the very moment you first lay eyes on it, so as not to lose it.
I almost thought I had lost this particular dress; my relief was short lived when the assistant informed me that the only sizes left were large and extra small; I had been banking on a small, but decided to take the chance of experiencing the poorly lit changing room with the VERY unkind mirror and try my luck with the extra small. To my joy I got into it and even got the zip up without having to do emergency rib removal, and the sun shone down on me and my dress, and all was right with the world........
I wore my Pony dress to work yesterday, but the hideous Alaskan weather meant that it was more of a Pony skirt as I had to wear thick black woolly tights and black cardigan with it, but the addition of some glitter and a pink hair flower more than made up for that. I was invincible and most definitely 20% cooler all day. I honestly felt like nothing bad could happen to me in my beautiful Pony dress; ie if I crossed paths with a moose on the way to the bus stop I would simply have undone my enormous Parka and showed my dress, and the moose would have bowed its great head and simply walked away without trying to stomp on me even a tiny bit.
And that's the great thing about being free to express yourself; it gives you confidence, and the more confidence you have, the more free you are. So go to it, people, and wear whatever YOU like, not whatever society tells you to like. Go on, try it, you'll feel at least 20% better I guarantee it. And if you are wondering why I keep writing 20%; it's a Pony thing.
I am 45 years old, and I am making the best of it.
The tragedy is that the upload thingy isn't cooperating for some reason; maybe it doesn't feel the same way about the pony dress as I do. I'll try and upload a photo later......
Actually, maybe I am a little eccentric, but that's good as far as I'm concerned; we all know how boring our little blue planet would be if we were all the same.
The dictionary definition of eccentric is "unconventional and slightly strange" and I'm completely ok with that. I feel that life is just too damn short to worry too much about conforming to society and what a bunch of complete strangers think of me. As long as my loved ones love me back and are not overly disappointed with me, that's all I could wish for.
To this end, I wear brightly coloured tights, flowers in my hair and FAR too much colourful makeup for a woman my age (if you are to pay any attention to "fashionistas and style experts"- which I don't). I wear these things on a daily basis, be it to work in my little office, or to the local supermarket, or just at home when nobody is looking except the dogs.
I read that dogs cannot see the same colours as people anyway, and they do not judge anyone unless there are no biscuits forthcoming, whereupon they judge very harshly.
Last weekend I outdid myself. I had seen a lovely Pony dress in Hot Topic and was instantly attracted to the pretty colours and style, and was just waiting for the "Hot Cash" promotion. I knew that if my size dress was still in stock on that date, then it was indeed waiting patiently for me and I should buy it immediately or risk the wrath of the Shopping Gods, and you NEVER want to risk that. Ignore these signs at your peril, for if you do, you will never find a bargain again, simple as that.
So upon entering the shop and not seeing MY Pony dress you can imagine how I felt; those tiny stirrings of panic that maybe I waited too long and my bluff had indeed been called. I asked in a plaintive voice where the Pony dresses were, only to have the assistant find them hidden behind something else that wasn't half as pretty. Maybe they hid them so as not to blind customers with their beauty, or maybe it was just another of those constant stock rotations that shops do all the time to try and force you into buying stuff the very moment you first lay eyes on it, so as not to lose it.
I almost thought I had lost this particular dress; my relief was short lived when the assistant informed me that the only sizes left were large and extra small; I had been banking on a small, but decided to take the chance of experiencing the poorly lit changing room with the VERY unkind mirror and try my luck with the extra small. To my joy I got into it and even got the zip up without having to do emergency rib removal, and the sun shone down on me and my dress, and all was right with the world........
I wore my Pony dress to work yesterday, but the hideous Alaskan weather meant that it was more of a Pony skirt as I had to wear thick black woolly tights and black cardigan with it, but the addition of some glitter and a pink hair flower more than made up for that. I was invincible and most definitely 20% cooler all day. I honestly felt like nothing bad could happen to me in my beautiful Pony dress; ie if I crossed paths with a moose on the way to the bus stop I would simply have undone my enormous Parka and showed my dress, and the moose would have bowed its great head and simply walked away without trying to stomp on me even a tiny bit.
And that's the great thing about being free to express yourself; it gives you confidence, and the more confidence you have, the more free you are. So go to it, people, and wear whatever YOU like, not whatever society tells you to like. Go on, try it, you'll feel at least 20% better I guarantee it. And if you are wondering why I keep writing 20%; it's a Pony thing.
I am 45 years old, and I am making the best of it.
The tragedy is that the upload thingy isn't cooperating for some reason; maybe it doesn't feel the same way about the pony dress as I do. I'll try and upload a photo later......
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Maternal Rage...and Other Things...
I realize I have not written an entry for a while....nothing major has happened, just random stuff.
There have been no scary moose encounters, no mad people on the bus, no homeless people admiring my clothes, although to be fair my clothes are currently very hard to spot on my daily commute, hidden as they are under the Biggest Parka In The World.
We had a small Christmas Brunch at work, which was very pleasant. There was delicious food, presents and lots of hugs from two small girls who belong to a co-worker. These two are small, smiley, pretty, and were bedecked in pretty party dresses with flowers in their curly hair; they remind me of my own two when they were that age. Ours was a very girly household, and Husband Number One would often come home from work to find us all wearing multiple bows in our hair, or cries of "daddy, can you help me to plait my Barbie's hair?". Sadly he never learned how to.
I also got introduced to the (giant) family of a co-worker. I mean giant as in they are all over 6 feet tall, husband, wife and five kids; at four feet eleven inches tall myself, I felt like a Borrower throughout the whole conversation. (For those who don't know what Borrowers are, they are tiny people who live secretly in the walls of a house and borrow items from the family that live there, and they first appeared in a book by Mary Norton in the fifties.) Anyway, it turns out that one of these lofty daughters had spent much of the Summer getting the same bus as me, although I had never noticed her as she is perfectly normal and charming, and therefore has no entertainment value as far as me and my Blog goes.
Next was Christmas itself of course. Christmas Eve involved Step-Daughter and her Boyfriend, presents, games, Batman impressions and lots of alcohol. When they had left, Perfect Husband excused himself, stating that he was "going to go upstairs for a while, I may have a little vomiting to do..." so I stayed downstairs with Tiny Dog and watched "A Christmas Movie" which was playing on a loop. They do this every year and I had never managed to watch the whole thing, so I gave it my best shot. Naturally I fell asleep, and when I went upstairs at 1:30am (Christmas Day, woo-hoo!!) Perfect Husband was still lying on the bathroom floor. I enquired as to his health, but he assured me he was perfectly fine and would "just lie here for a little bit longer" so I left him to it and went to bed. Needless to say he did not die of alcohol poisoning or choking on partially digested snacks mixed with wine and shots, although he did indeed have more than a slight headache on Christmas Day, and moved at a noticeably slower pace than normal....
Christmas and New Year was pleasant; food, presents, drink, movies, all those good things, and I even managed to do my fitness dvd so that I could feel all virtuous whilst eating chocolate. ( I have also bought a new one for the sake of a little variety; I am currently fast becoming Queen of Hip-Hop, and I'm pretty sure that nobody can "Dig and Snake" like Yours Truly....) I also managed to work my way through almost the entire series of Harry Potter films, although I have the last two to go, so don't tell me what happens.
I made no New Year's Resolutions, I never do, although I have been very consistent with wearing my Body Shop shimmer sparkle on a daily basis, which is basically very fine sparkly powder, a bit like fairy dust that you spray wherever you wish. I am very pleased to announce that my phone at work is now all sparkly.
Also, it's been pretty quiet at work so I have introduced two of my co-workers to the delights of the zoocam, which are webcams that are set up in various zoos and animal sanctuaries around the world, and they are both now cooing over live footage of baby pandas....well, I had to do something to make up for forcing them to watch the video to Miley Cyrus' "Wrecking Ball".....
So, you may ask, that covers "Other Things" now what of this Maternal Rage? Well I shall tell you, dear Reader.
Fabulous Daughter Number One's Idiot Boyfriend broke up with her two days ago, leaving her sad and hurting. I am currently considering having him Publicly Flogged, or at least Tarred and Feathered, but as either of those things will lead to my arrest I shall have to console myself with random outbursts of outrage, plus seizing the opportunity to call him an Idiot and announce that he has Stupid Hair.
OF COURSE this happens to a lot of people, OF COURSE she will get over him, OF COURSE she will either find someone who deserves to call himself her boyfriend, or at least be happy on her own, but for now she is hurting, and so am I.
I actually live on an entirely different continent to my daughters, through exceptionally poor decision-making on my own part, but that doesn't mean I feel any less of a mother. I monitor their lives through a combination of Social Media, Phone calls, Skyping plus a Network of Spies, and I am most likely just as involved in their day as any other parent, more so than some.
But it doesn't matter what the physical distance is if you love someone. The simple truth is, if they are hurting, then so are you. Just as when we found out that she needed glasses from the age of seven, and I felt terribly guilty for giving her stupid faulty genes that meant she had less than perfect eyesight and implored the teachers to beat without mercy any children they heard teasing her, just as when she got the letter stating that she hadn't got a place at the school of her dreams and I rang the local education authority and harassed them until they checked and double- checked (yup- clerical error; turns out she HAD been given a place after all but some illiterate employee had pressed the wrong button on the computer), just as she missed her offer of accommodation at University through her own silly mistake and I called her and tried my best to give her the confidence and reassurance to find her own accommodation (of course she managed to do so, she's a smart cookie, that one), just as she has had to navigate her way through many other sad and painful situations, I have tried my very best to give her love and reassurance. I may not always be able to fix everything, but at least I can cry with her, drink wine with her, hate the entire world with her (just for a short while) and when she is on an even keel again, smile with her.
That's my job as a Mother, one which I can do from anywhere. I can also think evil thoughts about Idiot Boyfriend from anywhere, but I shall refrain because I am soooo much better than that. Just know this, Idiot: if you are on foot one day and a car races through a puddle and splashes you from head to foot, it may just be because I have wished for it to be so.....
There have been no scary moose encounters, no mad people on the bus, no homeless people admiring my clothes, although to be fair my clothes are currently very hard to spot on my daily commute, hidden as they are under the Biggest Parka In The World.
We had a small Christmas Brunch at work, which was very pleasant. There was delicious food, presents and lots of hugs from two small girls who belong to a co-worker. These two are small, smiley, pretty, and were bedecked in pretty party dresses with flowers in their curly hair; they remind me of my own two when they were that age. Ours was a very girly household, and Husband Number One would often come home from work to find us all wearing multiple bows in our hair, or cries of "daddy, can you help me to plait my Barbie's hair?". Sadly he never learned how to.
I also got introduced to the (giant) family of a co-worker. I mean giant as in they are all over 6 feet tall, husband, wife and five kids; at four feet eleven inches tall myself, I felt like a Borrower throughout the whole conversation. (For those who don't know what Borrowers are, they are tiny people who live secretly in the walls of a house and borrow items from the family that live there, and they first appeared in a book by Mary Norton in the fifties.) Anyway, it turns out that one of these lofty daughters had spent much of the Summer getting the same bus as me, although I had never noticed her as she is perfectly normal and charming, and therefore has no entertainment value as far as me and my Blog goes.
Next was Christmas itself of course. Christmas Eve involved Step-Daughter and her Boyfriend, presents, games, Batman impressions and lots of alcohol. When they had left, Perfect Husband excused himself, stating that he was "going to go upstairs for a while, I may have a little vomiting to do..." so I stayed downstairs with Tiny Dog and watched "A Christmas Movie" which was playing on a loop. They do this every year and I had never managed to watch the whole thing, so I gave it my best shot. Naturally I fell asleep, and when I went upstairs at 1:30am (Christmas Day, woo-hoo!!) Perfect Husband was still lying on the bathroom floor. I enquired as to his health, but he assured me he was perfectly fine and would "just lie here for a little bit longer" so I left him to it and went to bed. Needless to say he did not die of alcohol poisoning or choking on partially digested snacks mixed with wine and shots, although he did indeed have more than a slight headache on Christmas Day, and moved at a noticeably slower pace than normal....
Christmas and New Year was pleasant; food, presents, drink, movies, all those good things, and I even managed to do my fitness dvd so that I could feel all virtuous whilst eating chocolate. ( I have also bought a new one for the sake of a little variety; I am currently fast becoming Queen of Hip-Hop, and I'm pretty sure that nobody can "Dig and Snake" like Yours Truly....) I also managed to work my way through almost the entire series of Harry Potter films, although I have the last two to go, so don't tell me what happens.
I made no New Year's Resolutions, I never do, although I have been very consistent with wearing my Body Shop shimmer sparkle on a daily basis, which is basically very fine sparkly powder, a bit like fairy dust that you spray wherever you wish. I am very pleased to announce that my phone at work is now all sparkly.
Also, it's been pretty quiet at work so I have introduced two of my co-workers to the delights of the zoocam, which are webcams that are set up in various zoos and animal sanctuaries around the world, and they are both now cooing over live footage of baby pandas....well, I had to do something to make up for forcing them to watch the video to Miley Cyrus' "Wrecking Ball".....
So, you may ask, that covers "Other Things" now what of this Maternal Rage? Well I shall tell you, dear Reader.
Fabulous Daughter Number One's Idiot Boyfriend broke up with her two days ago, leaving her sad and hurting. I am currently considering having him Publicly Flogged, or at least Tarred and Feathered, but as either of those things will lead to my arrest I shall have to console myself with random outbursts of outrage, plus seizing the opportunity to call him an Idiot and announce that he has Stupid Hair.
OF COURSE this happens to a lot of people, OF COURSE she will get over him, OF COURSE she will either find someone who deserves to call himself her boyfriend, or at least be happy on her own, but for now she is hurting, and so am I.
I actually live on an entirely different continent to my daughters, through exceptionally poor decision-making on my own part, but that doesn't mean I feel any less of a mother. I monitor their lives through a combination of Social Media, Phone calls, Skyping plus a Network of Spies, and I am most likely just as involved in their day as any other parent, more so than some.
But it doesn't matter what the physical distance is if you love someone. The simple truth is, if they are hurting, then so are you. Just as when we found out that she needed glasses from the age of seven, and I felt terribly guilty for giving her stupid faulty genes that meant she had less than perfect eyesight and implored the teachers to beat without mercy any children they heard teasing her, just as when she got the letter stating that she hadn't got a place at the school of her dreams and I rang the local education authority and harassed them until they checked and double- checked (yup- clerical error; turns out she HAD been given a place after all but some illiterate employee had pressed the wrong button on the computer), just as she missed her offer of accommodation at University through her own silly mistake and I called her and tried my best to give her the confidence and reassurance to find her own accommodation (of course she managed to do so, she's a smart cookie, that one), just as she has had to navigate her way through many other sad and painful situations, I have tried my very best to give her love and reassurance. I may not always be able to fix everything, but at least I can cry with her, drink wine with her, hate the entire world with her (just for a short while) and when she is on an even keel again, smile with her.
That's my job as a Mother, one which I can do from anywhere. I can also think evil thoughts about Idiot Boyfriend from anywhere, but I shall refrain because I am soooo much better than that. Just know this, Idiot: if you are on foot one day and a car races through a puddle and splashes you from head to foot, it may just be because I have wished for it to be so.....
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