Monday, 21 August 2017

My Way Home.



I remember growing up as a little Polish kid in the suburbs.

My family was small, but very close.  We did everything together.

And Sundays were my absolute favourite family day of the week.


Every Sunday, we would wake up late, eat Mama's home-made apple bran muffins for breakfast, get dressed in our fancy clothes and go to church for the late mass.

By the time church was done and we got home, it was early afternoon (Polacks LOVED their long masses after all)  and my parents would immediately start preparing a massive feast for dinner.  

It was the same almost every Sunday.  Steak (medium-rare of course), home-made french fries and Mama's special vinaigrette salad.

I remember those days vividly.  

The food, the smells, the clothes.......but most of all, the music.


A Sunday never passed without music filling every square listening space of our home.

Whether it was Elvis Presley, Harry Belafonte, Polish waltzes, or The Righteous Brothers, my dad always made sure that music was a huge part of our lives.

Songs like "Doggie in the Window", "Are you lonesome tonight?" or "Jump in the line" will forever have me remembering the times when my dad would suddenly pull my mom away from making dinner just to steal a kiss or pull her close for a dance.....just for a brief moment :)

Even though I'm sure I was totally grossed out in the moment as a kid by my parent's outward and way too obvious expression of love......now I look back on those days wishing I could go back and witness it again..... just for a second.


But even though that loving moment is now just a memory, my passion and love of music is anything but.  

Those songs, the lyrics, the voices, everything about the music that my dad played every week, had slowly been imprinting itself into my DNA.  

And from then on,  my love of music was born.

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Fast forward a few years later to a super cool, and super stylish 15-year old me :)

Let's just picture for a second what I may have possibly been wearing during those early 90's.   

Definitely acid wash jeans (with safety pins going up each of the legs, obviously!), Tretorn running shoes (which I still attest are the COOLEST shoes to have ever been designed) and of course, my Use Your Illusion Guns N Roses t-shirt (a shirt that I wore WAY too often, but could honestly not get enough of).

Oh yes, folks........Ridiculous Girl.....I mean Ridiculous TEEN,  had gone through almost a decade of 80's pop music, only to finally come across the greatest rock band to have ever been formed. 

Guns N Roses.


I mean, we could PROBABLY end the blog right here.....but let's keep going, shall we??

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My love of GNR had sparked a whole new world of music for me, and since that age, I have been completely obsessed with rock.

Over the past couple of decades though, this love has transformed slightly to a more specific genre.....mostly because I HAD to move on because Axl and Slash became very selfish and stopped creating new music because they couldn't get along, and thus created incredible frustration and dissatisfaction amongst their biggest fans who literally lived for their music and thrived with every new song they made.

But I'm not bitter.  >:(

Anyway, being forced to move on (in such an unnecessary way), I had stumbled upon a type of music called alternative rock.  And soon bands like The Killers, Arcade Fire, Future Islands, Alt-J and July Talk had begun blowing my mind.


Knowing this, it should come as no surprise to you that for the last 2 years, I have attended the WAYHOME music festival - which lucky for me is held every year only 20 mins from my home :)


Year 1, I bought tickets the day they came on sale.


Year 2, I became slightly spoiled, and waited until just a few weeks before purchasing my wristband.


This year......well......let's just say that I sort of messed everything up! And not only did I get the weekend of the festival completely wrong but I also waited until there was almost no chance of getting any wristbands at a decent price whatsoever.

When my cousin brought to my attention that a local radio station in my area was giving away tickets to the festival for free, I delicately asked my daughters if they would like to wait with mommy in the pouring rain for an hour to get tickets to a "show that was REALLY, REALLY COOL and played REALLY AWESOME MUSIC!!?"

Molly laughed a mean laugh and said "No way Mommy!!  I'm not dettin' WET fo TITETS!!!  Dat's lite....da WORST!!!!"

Lola chimed in, "Yeah Mommy....sorry!  But that sounds, like, HORRIBLE!"

I sighed as I kept on thinking how I could possibly attend this incredible musical event.


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3 days before Wayhome #3


Time was ticking.  

The music event of the year was slowly approaching.

I still had no tickets.

One by one my cousins reached out asking if I was going, letting me know that they had all received their wristbands.  And I started to panic, ever so slightly.

But I would not give up.

And I knew, deep in my heart, then when I wanted something bad enough, the universe would ALWAYS figure out a way to make it happen.

Especially when it came to my love of music.

And I knew that if I wished for something badly enough, just like when I wished for Guns N Roses tickets after both shows had completely sold out, SOMEBODY would come forth and grant me my wish.

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The day before the event, I got a random call from my beloved friend Marina, who I hadn't seen in months.  

Marina was a fabulous chick, and a fellow alternative rock lover like myself.  That alone made her fabulous!

She asked me if I needed a ticket to Wayhome as she had an extra one and was looking to get rid of it before the event.




After I finished screaming, she laughed and said she'd leave it for me on my front porch tomorrow.  And then she ended the call with .....


"Enjoy the show DARLING!! xo"



The next day, and the day of the festival, I came home to my front porch to find this hanging from Mama's palm plant....... 









I squealed,  grabbed the wristband, got dressed, and raced to WAYHOME!


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Once I got there, I texted the person who was meeting me at the gates.  

A certain someone who I had met at this festival 3 years ago.  

He texted back immediately saying that he was already there waiting.


To say that I was excited for this moment was an under-statement.  


I checked how I looked one more time, and then quickly made my way to the main entrance.

I suddenly saw him.

One look in my direction, and he smiled that delicious smile that I remembered so well.


I proudly scanned my Wayhome wristband, and when the security guard gave me the nod of approval to go on through, I couldn't wait any longer.  


And I finally ran and jumped into Handsome Guy's arms.  


"Mmmmm, I missed you", he rumbled.



We didn't dare move from our spot.  

We were glued to each other.....and we kissed as a lineup of people continuously scanned their wristbands behind us to get into Wayhome.


As the scanner beeped every few seconds behind us, I realized how excited everyone must be to attend this amazing event.


But I don't think ANYBODY was as excited as us.


For it was Handsome Guy and I who truly found our way home that day.



;)





Stay tuned for more on Ridiculous Girl and Handsome Guy xo


Wednesday, 2 August 2017

Run!!




....continued from last blog.



As the door swung open, I wasn't quite sure how to process the image that was before me.  There were so many things to look at.

So while I digested everything, I did what I always do in awkward situations.  And I smiled a smile that was WAY bigger than anyone's smile should EVER be.  Like....a sort of psychotic smile....where my eyebrows go up SUPER high (almost touching my hairline) and my face gets minimized to pretty much only a giant mouth and teeth.  Kind of like when they put a human mouth on an animal and make them talk on super hilarious YouTube videos.   

At the current moment, I'm completely OBSESSED with watching talking meerkats on YouTube.  I am sure that there is nothing quite as ridiculous looking as a super cute little mongoose that is having a conversation with another mongoose using his giant human mouth.  


In that moment, when my new hairdresser had opened the door.......I had transformed into one of those ridiculous looking meerkats.  


But with outgrown roots.


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"Hiiiii!!  I'm Pam!!  C'mon in!!"


Ok, by now you MUST be wondering what this hairdresser looked like.

WELL FOLKS......let me just tell you what Pam looked like.

Enjoy :)




Pam was about 50 years old.  


Pam had pitch black hair down past her waist, with a thick bang across her eyes.  


Pam was SUPER tanned and had tons of makeup on.


Pam had a MASSIVE tattoo that spanned across her entire back, over her shoulder and down her right breast...... which I might add, was MASSIVE!  (so was the other one).


And Pam was wearing a black lace tank top and super tight hot-pink bootie shorts that left VERY little to the imagination.


Pam........ was somethin' else!!


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As she welcomed me into her home, and down the stairs into a dark and unfinished basement where her salon "apparently" was, I thought 2 things to myself:

#1)  Pam seemed pretty nice.

#2)  Murderers could also seem pretty nice.



She led me to the middle of the basement and opened up a set of sheets for me to walk through.......which I believe were the "doors" of the salon.  I found myself saying thank you to her as she held the sheets away from my face.  I didn't want to be rude after all.


As I stepped into the "salon", I soon realized that IT was something else as well ...... just like Pam.

The chair which I sat down in was just a regular wooden kitchen chair.  The table which housed her hair utensils was an old kid's wooden desk that looked very similar to the one I had when I was 8 years old.  But it had an old vase on it filled with fake, dusty sunflowers.  And there was an old tube TV in the corner which was on and was very loudly playing some TV show about teenagers.  I wanted to ask Pam to switch the station to a show that starred actors that were closer to my age......but I somehow felt that Pam liked this show because she thought she was in fact, a teenager.


And last but not least, there was a waiting room.

Well.....sort of.


Off to the side of the "salon" were 4 chairs against the basement wall.

Each seat with a customer on it.

Four giant stuffed animals in total.


I was almost 100% certain that I would be murdered tonight.


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As Pam worked on my hair, I noticed that she was asking many questions about how my former hairdresser used to bleach it.

I tried to stay calm, even though I started realizing that Pam may not know about bleach as much as she TOLD me she knew about bleach.

Aside:  Bleaching a woman's hair is nothing like dying a woman's hair.  The process is very different, very intricate, very time-sensitive and very particular.  One wrong application, or toner left on one minute too long, and your hair could turn all sorts of colours of the rainbow. Many hairdressers claim they know how to bleach someone's hair platinum blonde.....but only the BEST truly know how.  And depending on which hairdresser you get, you either end up looking like Gwen Stefani.......or a troll doll.  I became slightly worried that I would end up looking like the latter......







Once the bleach had been applied to my roots, I found Pam looking slightly fidgety and nervous.  

She seemed to be talking a lot faster, panicking slightly, and then a little while later, urged me to go to the sink so that she could wash off everything off.  

The sink, which I stuck my head into, was a small bucket in her laundry sink.  Which was in her laundry room.  Which was in between the washer and dryer.....which had a load going in it.  You have NO CLUE how hard it was for me not to roll my eyes during all of this.

I nearly died when she bragged that the bucket that my head was in was something she picked up at the local pet store......"for only $10!!  can you believe it!??"

She went on and on about the pet store bucket as she applied the toner and massaged it into my hair.

I tuned her out and tried to go to my happy place, when suddenly I realized that it had been a few minutes that Pam had not said a word.


Aside:  EVERY platinum girl knows that when your hairdresser suddenly goes dead silent in the middle of your toning process, something is NOT good.....


"Hmmmm."  Pam whispered.

I ignored her.


"Well, THIS is interesting....." she said slightly louder.


Again I ignored her......hoping that this was all a bad dream.


"THIS .....is.....interestinggggggg......."  she said again.


I finally piped up.


"Everything ok up there Pam??"  I said already knowing that the answer was a big fat NO.


She answered slowly, "it's just that......I've never seen it go this colour before.  It's just....weird...."


This back and forth discussion between Pam and I went on for about 10 minutes until Pam finally let me sit up and walk back into the sheet room.   I mean, "salon". Dammit!!


I took a deep breath as I approached the kid's desk.  I closed my eyes, slowly sat down, and then opened them.



But to my surprise my hair was perfect!  

A gorgeous platinum white hue with a slight cool undertone.  It was amazing.

The End!  :) 





NO.  IT WASN'T!!!!!

IT WASN'T PERFECT.  IT WASN'T AMAZING.  AND IT WASN'T PLATINUM.

IT WAS HALF YELLOW, HALF WHITE AND HALF BLUE.

I was officially the poster child for bad hair.



As I processed the image that I saw before me in the mirror (in essence, a wildly-coloured cartoon), Pam went on and on saying that she didn't know what had happened.

She kept talking and explaining about how sorry she was and how this had never happened to her before...... but I had already mentally checked out.  

And I couldn't get out of that basement/salon ANY faster.

Pam tried to convince me to stay so that she could fix my Katy Perry do by putting more bleach on it, but I was already standing up and ripping off the gown.

Then she asked if I still wanted a haircut.  

I backed away quickly, nervously smiling and bumping into the teenage TV and stuffies while politely saying that I had to leave.

As I jumped up the stairs (2 at a time), Pam ran behind me saying "Do you mind if we show my husband your hair??  He loves to see my work!"

I figured, why not!?  He'd probably think it looked amazing.

"STEVE!!!  COME SEE MY LATEST CLIENT!!"  Pam yelled to her husband at the top of her lungs.


And just when things couldn't get any worse, a very sketchy, skinny, drugged up looking fellow stood up off the couch and slowly sauntered towards the front door.

'Steve' looked me up and down while grinning, and in a slow rumble he said, "Woahhhhhh.  Nice".

I'm pretty certain that Steve didn't even look at my hair at all.


That was it.  

I was DONE!

I said goodbye, left her money, and BOLTED out of there.


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When I got home,  and after a GIANT glass of red wine, I called my old hairdresser and told her everything that had happened.

She was mortified and ordered that I come in right after work the next day so that she could squeeze me in to fix the colour.


And the next day after my hair was restored to its gorgeous all-over platinum hue, and my hairdresser and I had a huge laugh about my experience,  I felt like I could finally breathe again.




Now......perhaps you may be thinking that I'm being slightly dramatic about all of this.


But if you think that, then I absolutely MUST remind you again.  That if a woman does not feel good, then she does not look good.  And if she does not LOOK good, then she does not feel good. 


And at the end of the day, if a woman does not feel her absolute best, then I give you but only one piece of advice.  



RUN!!!









Monday, 24 July 2017

The Platinum Monster.






Some women will agree that how good you look equals how good you feel.  

And alternatively, others may think that how good you feel equals how good you look.


But I believe that we all would agree on 2 simple facts.  That every woman wants to look good .....and every woman wants to feel good.


For me there comes a certain confidence when I look good.  When I'm all dressed up, makeup applied flawlessly, jewellery worn perfectly, and red lipstick painted on JUST RIGHT.  Those are the moments in which I shine.  

Now let's stop for a brief second and compare to those moments when I definitely do NOT shine.  

1) The moments when I first wake up and look like a cross between Mickey Rourke and Blanche from the Golden Girls.

2)  The days at the cottage when my face has not seen makeup for an eternity and I realize how far apart my eyebrows are in comparison to how close together my eyeballs are  :/

3)  And last but not least, those moments, when my hair is so unbleached, roots so out-grown, hair so greasy and so unkept, that it looks like a family of squirrels could be living in it.  

Now....I'll allow for items #1 and #2.....at least for a few days.....maybe even a week.  But the HAIR???  THAT'S where I draw the line folks.



My platinum hair has sort of become my staple, and I've been bleaching it since before university.  Which according to my delusional sense of age has only been a few years.


But those "few years" have created a bit of a platinum monster in me.  For since I have gone white.....I have no desire to go back to my natural roots.  You know what they say after all ...."once you go white, you never go back........."

Wait a minute.......  

That saying doesn't seem right......?

Oh well!   Bottom line is that I LOVE my platinum hair and I try my very best to stay on top of that disgusting mouse-poo coloured tone that is for some reason always trying to sneak back into my life.  Argh!!

But when it comes to staying on top of my hair appointments, well, I just don't.  

Because here's something you should know about me.  I am a procrastinator.  

I know...... that's hard to believe, but alas my friends, it's true.

And I will leave the booking of my hair appointment to the VERY last minute.   That moment when my lovely 5-year old daughter Molly, without fail, always kindly reminds me that, "yo haiw loots lite a poke-u-pine's needows.  Blat on the bottom and white on da top". 

I say thank you Molly......... but walk away from her rolling my eyes.  She could care less though.  After a comment like that, you'd think she'd be slightly remorseful.  But no.  She goes right back to playing with her Evie and Mal dolls from the Descendents .....who for some reason ALWAYS have perfect hair :/

But I, unfortunately cannot move on so quickly after her very hurtful and dreadful comment.  In fact,  I run to the bathroom immediately after and pull my hair down at the roots to dissect how bad they actually look.  

When the moment comes that I truly DO look like a 'poke-u-pine', then I make that quick phone call to my good friend and hair goddess.  

The woman who turns me from the ugly duckling into to the glamorous Polish Swan that I really am  ;) 


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"Oh babe!  I'm so sorry!  I'm booked solid for the next 3 weeks!  Why didn't you call me sooner???"


GASP!!!!


It couldn't be!!! My hair goddess was UNAVAILABLE??!!!  What??  How was this possible???  Weren't hair stylists supposed to be at your beckon call??  What kind of world was I living in if my hair would remain unbleached for another week?  Maybe two??

Ok.  No need to panic.  I would survive this.  

Maybe I could go another 3 weeks without bleach.  I mean....it wouldn't be that bad would it??  

Maybe I could pull off that gorgeous ombre look....ya know.....where girls go and purposely get their hair died platinum only at the ends, but then they leave the roots super dark??  I was pretty much doing that without even trying!  

Yes!  That's what I would do!

And then when people would ask me "who did your hair??"  I'd say "Oh, just something I did all by myself, isn't it FABULOUS!!?"

And then I would be the talk of our little town of Barrie!

I'd end up being that girl that would walk down the aisle in the Real Canadian Superstore and people would just FAINT from how striking and beautiful my hair was.

And as I waltzed into my bathroom one more time to look at my hair and imagine myself as the beautiful ombre queen, I was instead hit with the image of a girl who looked like a cross between a zombie and a wild coyote.

NOPE!  Time to find a new hairdresser!


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It took me 3 days, but I FINALLY found someone to do my hair!!

Sure, I found her on Kijiji.  And sure she sounded like an old trucker when I called to book my appointment with her.

But she lived only 15 minutes from me, her ad was quite professional, and she was a specialist in hair extensions.  

I figured that if you could sew or glue tiny little hair follicles together, you could pretty much do anything in life.

She did have a few sketchy customer pics on her advertisement though.  My coworker laughed for a solid 20 minutes when she saw a pic of an 80-year old with very sparse hair and curls.......but I figured that that was probably her only old customer.  The rest were probably young and gorgeous with long, luscious locks.

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The day of my appointment, as I drove down the street, I was a teeny bit concerned at the quality of houses I was passing.  Most of them were run-down with absolutely ZERO landscaping (and you guys KNOW how I feel about my lawn!).  But nonetheless, I felt it imperative to not judge, and hope for the best.

I was sure that her home would be lovely and her home salon would be stunning.


But as I pulled up to #51, I became slightly concerned.  The lawn was atrocious.  I sighed, but once again reminded myself not to judge.  Although I did find it alarming that if she could cut hair, why couldn't she figure out how to cut grass??  But again...I WASN'T GOING TO JUDGE.

I tried to find the doorbell, which I soon found under layers of duct tape, so decided it was just best to knock on the door.


After some screaming and stomping that I heard within the home (to which I desperately tried not to look too concerned or have a scrunched up brow when she saw me for the first time)....... the door finally opened.


And when it did....... I did EVERYTHING in my power to hold my jaw up and not let it drop.





......to be continued.....












Sunday, 9 July 2017

Please hold, somebody will be with you shortly :)




Hey there Ridiculous Fans!!
Just wanted to let you know that there will be no new blogs posted for the next 2 weeks.  This Ridiculous Girl needs to relax, party and enjoy her summer!  
So stay tuned for new material when I'm back on July 24th!
And in the meantime,  keep watching my Facebook page (at Ridiculous Girl) and my Instagram page (@ leokadiaRG) for the crazy antics that I'll be up to!
And don't forget to scroll back and catch up on all those ridiculous blogs that you may have missed!  
Talk to ya later, alligators!! 
Love, 
Ridiculous Girl xoxoxo 

Tuesday, 4 July 2017

Expectations.





There are many expectations in life.  

Expectations in your career, in your marriage,  in your home, in your family.....the list goes on and on.


As an employee, you are expected to work.  

As a parent, you are expected to parent.

As a teacher, you are expected to teach.

And....as a writer, you guessed it........are expected to write.


But what happens when you have ZERO desire to do the one thing that is expected of you??


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Every week, I post a new blog.


I excitedly sit down at my desk, Polish beer at hand, and I write.  


I write and I write and I write.

There have been many a day that I have completely lost track of the time only to realize that I am finishing my story at 2 o'clock in the morning.


Aside:  Well.....it's actually only 9pm, but my 9pm is everyone else's 2am because I go to bed super early.  Not to mention, I have to get in at least 1 episode of GIRLS or Orange is the New Black before bedtime.  But that's still SUPER LATE for me guys.  And please don't even try to make fun of me for going to bed early.  I'll have the last laugh when my 10 hours of sleep a night have me looking like a 20-year old when I'm 60.
MOU HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!!!



Wait.......what were we talking about??? I got distracted by my own evil laugh.


Oh ya!  WRITING!!


Anyway......so writing never seems like work to me because I love it SO MUCH!


And it's VERY RARE that I don't have the passion or the motivation to write my stories.


But let me tell ya folks, since last week, I have had ZERO desire to write.  In fact,  I have been STRU-GAH-LING bad!!!  (by the way, that word is struggling for those of you who don't know how I speak yet.  If you're lucky, one day we will have a conversation and you will have the pleasure of learning my weird and mostly made up verbage.  But ONLY if you're lucky.)


Anyway, since last week, I have had absolutely no ideas for a new blog.  Like, none.


Actually....... that's a lie.  


I thought of doing a blog about Canada Day weekend and how much I love it.  

But then after perusing Facebook and seeing literally EVERYONE I KNOW dressed up in red and white and sharing their love for our amazing nation, I thought, there's NO WAY I can possibly bore you with a whole blog about how incredible Canada is .......because you already know that.  


So instead, I'll just share with you some of my hi-lites of my fabulous Canada Day weekend at the cottage.  


Enjoy :) 


Our whole family decided to dress up for the 150 year celebration.


This was my outfit.  I think it's amazing.





It's a combination of my own t-shirt and my dad's old hat and track pants (which he wore religiously because he was OBSESSED with Canada). 


I think I look pretty choice.


But then Mama thought that it would be a good idea to drape me in a Canada banner......






I was SUPER angry with her decision >:(





I have no CLUE what she was trying to do??



But FINALLY we figured it out and got this AMAZING shot.




During this photo shoot, Mama kept yelling "BUT I VON'T BE IN DA SHOT RIGHT????"  And my sister and I just kept yelling "Ya Ma, don't worry about it.  You won't be in it."


Here's yet another amazing pic.  

With Mama in the shot.



Obviously you can tell how amazing my weekend was by how AMAZING my outfit was.

Right??


Oh, and here's another pic from the cottage.  

Of Bruce Lee with sunglasses.  


AS IF he could get any cuter!? 





ps - he was growling at me during this pic.  But I still ruff him :) xo



Anyway, guys, I was hoping that by the time I posted that pic of Bruce Lee, that I would have something to write about.


But I still don't.

I'm sorry :( 


But I'm tired.



I could possibly be tired because I was up at 6am and worked all day long.  

And then I raced to Costco at 6pm to do groceries at which point I got very frustrated with the stupid people who don't know how to properly drive their buggies through the store (STAY TO THE RIGHT SIDE PEOPLE!!! IT'S SIMPLE DRIVING TECHNIQUES!!)

And then I sped home to unpack those groceries, do a load of laundry and mop the floor.

(ps - don't even GET me started on the floor.  In a nutshell, yesterday afternoon, I tried a new DIY to super-clean my kitchen floors with hydrogen peroxide and baking soda.  Let's just say that my ENTIRE main floor is covered in a thin chalky white residue.  DIY'S CAN SUCK IT!!!!

(Just kidding - DIY's rock.  Sorry for my outburst PINTEREST!!  I STILL LOVE YOU!  Please don't ban me from your site like you did last year!)



Anyway.......it is now 8:30pm.


And I'm exhausted.  


All I wanna do is take off my bra, lie on my couch, and watch episode 6 of Season 5 of Orange is the New Black so that I can be asleep by 9:30pm (which is still past my bedtime).

Ridiculous Girls fans - I apologize for my poor writing and lack of enthusiasm today.  

But you know what???

Sometimes you gotta take everyone's expectations and just SHOVE IT!!

Ooooohhhhhhh......I sounded so BAD ASS just there!!!





MOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!!









Monday, 26 June 2017

The puzzle.




A throwback to a few years ago.  
It's an oldie, but a goodie :)



I was at my BFF's house the other day for a playdate.  Mostly for the kids, but also for us.


If I had to play one more game of hide-and-go-seek, or listen to Dora's high-pitched voice for any longer....God only knows what I would do to myself.  Or to Dora.


My BFF and I had children almost at the same age. At the time, the toddlers were 4 years old, and the babies were a year and a half.    

While we drank our coffees, the babies were napping so we only had the toddlers to deal with.  But as every mom knows, toddlers are a handful alone.  I'm always shocked at how loud they are.  


Side note:  this is where my sister would yell...."YOU'RE LOUD!  SHE GOT IT FROM YOU!"  and I would answer in a whisper..."I'm not THAT loud".


On a regular basis I wonder how a toddler can talk nonstop for an entire day.  

Literally.  


An entire day.  


No joke.  


Like.....24 hours long. 


There is not a moment of silence in my house.  Very often I whisper "shhhhh" under my breath or "stopppp talkinngggg" while Lola is still going on and on about Ariel or Rapunzel or some other Princess that I will never live up to.  

But suddenly, the toddlers went quiet.  I looked up from my coffee.  

My BFF caught my eye and winked at me.  "Puzzle."  she said, as if reading my mind.


"Yes!  Puzzle!  Puzzles are AWESOME!"  I say excitedly.  

I am loving this sudden peace and quiet. 


I can finally hear the voices in my head again.  Hello friends......



"Totally.  Puzzles are so calming."  said my BFF.  "I find that just sitting here with the kids and helping them is so relaxing for me too."

"Oh, I know babe!  I feel the same way!  I wish Lola would play with puzzles more often.  But she'd rather get me involved in a huge Barbie pool party.  I mean it's not that bad though....Ken's pretty cute.....and when he wears his speedos......"


She continued on.  "At our family get-together last summer, my Dad really got into puzzles.  He would sit there for hours, with a glass of wine, just working away on his puzzle.  He loved it!  But then my brother and his wife decided to get him one for Christmas.......a 1000-piece!  My Dad couldn't sleep over this crazy thing!  He couldn't get any of the pieces and it just stressed him out....but he felt like he couldn't stop until he finished the whole damn thing!".

It suddenly got me thinking....as everything does.

What is it with having to finish a puzzle?  

Were we born with this desire?  


Why can't we just walk away?  


I mean, I will sit there for...........at least 10 minutes until I finish Lola's Hello Kitty puzzle.  


But it's just so frickin' adorable when you see the finished product.  A cat holding a tiny, little umbrella in the rain.  I mean, C'MON!!  How cute is that???



My sister brought a puzzle to the cottage last year.....a 1000-piece nature landscape.  

MAMA got addicted!! 


It was ridiculous.  


We couldn't use the kitchen table for weeks because God forbid you moved a piece out of place.  


She finally let me put a tablecloth GENTLY over the puzzle when I refused to sit on the floor to eat dinner.   


"Vy iz it such a pro-blem to eet on ze floor???!!"  she yelled.



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That night we all worked on the puzzle.  My mom yelled at me many times when I handed her a piece that I thought was the river, but was actually the sky.  

"LUDGE!! PAY ATTENSION!  DAT IS DE SKY!!"


I rolled my eyes, took a swig of my beer and called it a night.

"Mama!"  I said very sternly "Don't be loud ok?  I need it to be quiet.  Don't work on this stupid thing all night OK!??"

"Yaa-yaa!  Ok!  Go to sleep!"  she said without looking up from her puzzle.


In fact, she grabbed her granny-glasses and was bringing piece after piece up to her eyes trying to determine if the piece was river or sky.


In my bedroom, which is adjacent to the kitchen at the cottage, I climbed into bed.  

After applying my hand cream, putting in my ear plugs and pulling down my eye mask, I turned off the light.



BUT........ 

All I could hear was Mama through the walls.......and through my ear plugs.  


Stupid Walmart brand >:(



"Iz dat it??  No.  Iz dis tree or leaf?  Vat about dis?  Ahh!  Yes!  Very good.  I have leaf!"


Then I heard tapping.  

I'm sure it was Mama's foot on the floor.  


She always tapped her foot when she was working on something.


Then......the humming began.  

Mama started humming the theme song to The GodFather.


Are you kidding me??

I HAD ENOUGH!!

I jumped out of bed, lifted my eye mask and pulled out my ear plugs.  

I threw open the door and squinted as the kitchen light blared in my eyes. 


 Goddamit!  This is so NOT pre-bed behaviour!


"MAMA!!  You need to be quiet!  This is ridiculous!!  Put the puzzle away and go to bed!"

Everyone, including my mother,  started grumbling at me as they got up and began turning off the lights. 

The whole family was always grumbling at me so it doesn't phase me in the least.




But FINALLY I could go to bed :)    

Peace and quiet.


Ahhh......



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But......at 3am......I still couldn't fall asleep......


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At 8am, my sister came out of her bedroom.  

With her face all scrunched up, she said "LUDGE!??  What are you doing??  Have you been up all night??"




"Oh shut up", I said.

"Just sit down and help me figure out if this is river or sky!"






;)