Life in progress

Tag Archives: humour


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday Fe22/14

The wind blows where ever it wants to blow. It’s warming up outside and so the gusts are fierce. It’s days like today when branches weakened from the weight of snow and ice come down on roofs and cars (two things I’ve been having problems with of late). Times like this I listen to the creaking of the trees around my house and I want to say to the wind:

Wind, dude, stop blowin’ already. Get outta my trees. C’mon man. Ye’r makin’ me nervous, dude.

But you can’t reason with the wind. It blows where ever it wants.

Like ice. It forms when it snows, and then the snow melts and the water sits there until it freezes into sheets of slippery pavement that have me flailing as I deliver my newspapers. Like the wind, I want to say to the ice:

Ice! Stop being so damn slippery!

But you can’t reason with the ice. It keeps on being slick. So much so that I thought this morning, as I slid around the block not moving my feet because the wind was blowing me on this ice, maybe this combo ain’t so bad after all.

Dude.


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Shhh! Don’t Tell My Mom

The last thing I want to do is worry my mother, so I’m keeping this quiet. I can tell all of you though, because she doesn’t read my blog.

I think her car is trying to kill me.

I went out in it today to pick up some groceries, for myself as well as for her. As I came up to a stop sign I put my foot on the brake and the engine started to rev. The more I pushed the brake, the faster the engine went – and the faster the car went. Luckily there was nothing coming (and there were no cops around) because I blasted through that stop sign.

Since then I’ve started putting it into neutral when I want to stop. That’ll teach it.

But in the meantime, would someone please tell it I was only going to buy her cookies?


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Newspapers Hire Editors

Apparently the editors at the newspaper I deliver have a head-start on the holiday. They’re already drunk.

drunk editors

(click to enlarge)

 

P.S. Family Day is Monday February 17th.


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Seriously, I’m an Author in Real Life

There are reasons why unpublished authors don’t walk around telling people they’re writing a novel. First and foremost is the puzzled, glazed-over expression that immediately comes over the other person’s face, as they think to themselves, What kind of a flake am I talking to? Then quickly on the heels of that comes the hasty change-of-subject or the hands-behind-the-back stroll-away as they whistle and hope the author doesn’t follow them all the way home.

But it comes to something when an novelist’s family members don’t even take him/her seriously.

Are you a novelist? Do you ever hear your significant other say, over the phone, thinking you’re not listening, “Oh yeah, it’s just a hobby,” regarding your writing? Does the person supposedly looking after your kids allow them to come and ask you questions while you’re trying to work? Do people wander in to ask you if you’d like coffee while you’re trying to write?

It’s said that marketing a book is harder than writing, but on some days I seriously wonder. It takes a great deal of concentration to write something as complicated as a novel. There are many things to keep track of, characters to write and to get into, believe it or not. Getting into a character’s head so that his or her voice comes through well takes time.

So if you walk in on a working author to ask if he/she wants a cup of coffee (the answer is no) and he/she turns to you slowly and asks you in return if you’d care to have your fingernails removed with a screwdriver, chances are the author is in the middle of a torture scene and it has nothing to do with you. Still, back away with your hands behind your back and try to remember next time, IT’S NOT JUST A HOBBY!

I’M AN AUTHOR – IN REAL LIFE!

End rant.


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The Scorecard on my Life for the Past Week

Snow – 1, BBQ – 0

Family members alive – 5, Novels edited – 0

Hairs left attached to my scalp – 100,000, Hairs in my shower drain – 99,999

Hours of sleep – 35, Brain cells remaining – 2

Icicles – 100, Buckets full of water inside the house from ice melting on the roof 20

Bottles of wine consumed – 3, Contentedness quotient – 3

Blog posts conceptualized – 21, Blog posts posted – 7

Hours worked – 133, Earnings – 0

Family members alive – 5, Laughs – countless

In all I’d say I’m doing okay.


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Don’t you just love some of WordPress’s screw-ups?

My view count is going up but not my visitor count. So far today, everyone who has visited my blog has viewed it twenty times.

Either WP is glitching yet again, or I’m a damned good writer! 😉


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday Fe8/14

Don’t you hate it when you see someone who you think you recognize but you’re not sure?

There are two scenarios that I can think of at the moment: One; you can’t place the person at all, and two; you’re not sure if it’s the person you think it is or if it’s some stranger.

For instance, I’m sitting in the food court of the local mall, watching a guy who I can see in profile as he talks to a little girl beside him, and I could swear it’s Tyler Stewart, drummer for the band, the Bare Naked Ladies. So, do I go over and say hi to him? It wouldn’t be too weird – I went to high school with him. We were in the same music program together. He has much less hair now… But I’m thinking, if it was him, wouldn’t there be mobs of people hanging around him?

Maybe not.

What do you do when this happens? Do you avoid eye contact and hope they don’t notice you? Do you take a chance?

I once had a woman walk up to me in a shopping mall, much like the one I’m in, and she was absolutely positive I was someone else. She called me “Nicky,” asked me how I’d been doing, and I think she was going to hug me until I managed to get a word in edgewise and tell her she had the wrong person. Wow, was she embarrassed.

Since then, (and even before, but more so since then) I’m very careful about who I approach. Actually, I usually run in the other direction, which is what I’ll do today I think. After all, if I want Tyler’s autograph, I can probably wait ’til the next high school reunion.


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A Good Job to Have on a Bad Day

Most of us have jobs. Some of us have careers. We all have bad days. You know bad days, right? The sort where you stub your toes on anything available that doesn’t move; your hair won’t do what you want it to; you put your shirt on inside out and don’t realize it until you hear the guy in the next cubicle who you hate with a passion, sniggering… One of those days.

I was cruising around Facebook, wondering what in the world I could write about today, and I came across a picture which has no relevance to this post other than that it inspired me to think: would I want to go to the dentist when he’s having a bad day? The answer, still in my head, was a resounding NO. If you’re wondering, yes, it did resound, and yes, just imagining the idea of a sadistic dentist hurt me in ways that my imagination should not be allowed to hurt me.

Then I pondered other professionals with whom I would not want to deal on their baddest days: a mechanic, a chef, a radiologist whose job was to perform a breast x-ray, a journalist doing an interview… the list goes on.

All this led me to wonder if there’s a good job to be doing on a bad day. I suppose if the job is solitary, there’s only oneself to harm. But even as a writer – a job that can’t get any more solitary – I abuse the hell out of my characters.

So, what do you think? Is there a professional you would feel safe with if they’re having a bad day? Can you think of anyone worse than a dentist?

Comment away, lovely people!


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“My Name is Davey Jones and I’m Calling From Windows Operating System”

Davey Jones: (with an Indian accent so thick, I could barely understand him) Is this Ms. Hill?

Me: (with my usual response) No I’m sorry, she’s not here right now. Can I take a message?

DJ: Are you a family member?

Me: Yes.

DJ: My name is Davey Jones and I’m calling from Windows operating system about your computer.

Me: I don’t have a computer.

DJ: Oh… well maybe you have a laptop?

Me: (looking at two laptops on the table) I don’t have a laptop either.

DJ: Oh… well maybe you have a PC?

Me: I don’t have a computer at all.

DJ: How old are you?

Me: That’s none of your business.

DJ: Are you a virgin?

Me: (hangs up, laughs out loud)

The phone number he called from is 607-723-1168. If you see this number on your call display, and you’re speaking to Davey Jones, please please please! tell him to fuck off on my behalf.

Thank you.


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JusJoJan 27 – Another Damned Snow Day

Why is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse playing on my television screen?

Because it’s a snow day.

Why is it a snow day?

Because the plows haven’t been out yet, so the buses aren’t running.

Why haven’t the plows been out? This is Canada!! We get snow!!!

Purportedly, the town I’m in hasn’t seen a real winter in five years. I haven’t been here that long, but I can say that out of three green Christmases I’ve experienced in my lifetime, two have been here in the last four years. So, okay. I get it. They probably didn’t budget for a real winter here this year.

But come on! The equipment is there – I’ve seen it. It came by yesterday. The staff has been hired … look out the window, city snow removal people! There are kids who really REALLY want to go to school! I can tell by the completely-absorbed-in-tv-and-computer-look on my little darling’s face that he can’t wait…

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