Category Archives: random

LUV 4 EVAR

Remember conversation hearts? They’re those candies that taste like chalk (except for the yellow ones; they taste like banana-flavored chalk), and they say things like “BE MINE” and “HUG ME.”

Good times. Well, not really. Not if you’re a self-conscious kid who lives in fear of giving a KISS ME to the wrong classmate (and let’s face it: in 4th grade, they’re all the wrong one).

I got some the other day in a (super duper!) birthday package. They’ve changed. They still taste like chalk, of course- some traditions you just don’t mess with. But the messages are different. They’re MODERN!

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UR IT. BE TRU 2 U.

Have I ever told you all how much I hate text speak, or whatever they call this? It’s not cute, it makes you sound like an asshole. Just saying.

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BITE ME

If you care, write me a nice letter. Send a card. Call me. Don’t text me. (Also, don’t send me a picture of your junk. This is not romantic. Time and a place, people!)

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Hippies, or swingers? Who can tell? The mystery is half of the fun! (These ones aren’t new, I just liked how they showed up together in the package)

I’m not going to say changing these things is bad; I’m not quite ready to sit on my front porch and yell at kids to git offa my lawn*. Also, they’re candies. Who cares, right? We’re not talking about the downfall of civilization, here. But if you ever catch me using a phrase like 2 HOT 4 U in anything other than a mocking tone, please slap me. Hard.**

That’s it. No big message here. That’s X minutes of your life you’re never getting back.

Happy Almost-Valentine’s Day! *evil laugh*

*ask again after my birthday.

**I would not be at all surprised if you could get candy hearts with this on them.

UPDATE: You can get adult conversation hearts, but looking for them will do terrible things to your internet search history.


Conversations I Was Almost Definitely Not a Part Of- Part 1

Her: “So what’s with so many houses around here not having front porches or steps? It’s a 2-10 foot drop on most of them… I’ve seen second-story doors with nothing but air underneath.”

Him: “I dunno. I guess they don’t use them. Newfoundlanders just prefer to use the back door most of the time.”

(awkward pause)

Her: “So do you think that’s why they needed monetary incentives to increase the population?”

Him: “Never speak to me again.”


How To Make Instant Crappuccino Almost Palatable

Before we begin today’s lesson, let me just say this:

I KNOW.

Completely inexcusable. A travesty, a horror, a crime against coffee. No arguments here. But I don’t even own a coffee-maker, let alone anything that can do fancy drinks, and the only places in driving distance to get them are Tim Horton’s and McDonald’s, and they’re 45 minutes away.

Stop judging me. Until they invent a DIY caffeine IV, I’m stuck.

Anyway… Yeah, instant cappuccino. Looks good on the box, but you just knew that was a big, fat lie before you even bought it. But hey, you were desperate, you went there. You made one according to package directions, and it was AMAZING. Sublime. Transcendental.

Just kidding! It tasted like crap. Worse was the gritty, powdery lumps that floated to the top looking like cheese curds and tasting like… Well, like gritty instant coffee and powdered milk.

Siiiiick.

So now you have a box of this shit sitting in your cupboard, taunting you with the promise of your legal drug of choice. I’ve been there, and it’s going to be ok. I’m going to share with you my super special method for making this stuff not bad.

I’m sorry, that’s all I can promise. But I can drink 2 a day (3 in November or on a bad headache day, which is terrible).

Here’s what they say you need, plus boiling water:

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Don’t believe them. You need to add milk, and possibly a wee bit of sugar if that’s your thing. Also, this little guy is your new best friend:

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I don’t know what to call it. It’s a tiny whisk-y think that came with my kids’ play kitchen. Henceforth, it shall be called Whisky thing.

Whiskey thing… Huh. That might actually help. *note to self*

So put your crappuccino in your cup, add water to the 1/2 to 3/4 mark, and whisk the SHIT out of that bad boy. Use a spoon to get the thick bit out of the bottom if you’re feeling ambitious.

Now, the milk. Warm it up- adding cold milk will make the foam solidify. I blame the coconut oilHOLY CRAP WHY AM I DRINKING THIS IT’S PURE EVIL.

Just do it. Whisk the milk is you’re the fancy type, but I don’t. We’re already making a heroic effort here, don’t be a show-off.

Add your milk. Do not try to take a picture while you pour, because it will end up all over the counter.

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I may or may not speak from experience.

Whisk it all again.

That’s it. I have no fancy toppings to offer to make it look like the one on the box, but we’ve improved the taste and texture.

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I’m going to be honest. It’s not Starbucks or Second Cup, or whatever über-hip coffee hole you’re all going to without me, you bastards. It’s not even a Tim Horton’s latte.

I would take it over a McDonald’s latte, though. They taste like the water that an Olympic sprinting team washed their socks in.*

FOR THE LOVE OF CAFFEINE, WILL SOMEONE JUST BUY ME A KEURIG ALREADY?

* I know exactly who is going to disagree with me on this…


Best Party House EVER

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“Batman, Catwoman, Mario & Luke Skywalker clubhouse”

I love this kid.

Not only for having the awesomest clubhouse ever, but also for that comma usage. Atta boy!


Snow Day!

So yeah, it’s snowing.

It hasn’t been too bad here- not compared with the dumping-on that St. John’s is getting (hi, guys!). Our power was out for about 4 hours this morning; a lot of people in the city are still waiting to hear the miraculous beep of their microwave as it’s resurrected.

We did have a snow day, though. The school called at 6:30 this morning to inform us (very slowly) that due… to… in… clement… weather there would be no classes. Yippee!

This, of course, left me with two stir-crazy kids, but whatever. We busted out the Valentine’s-themed magnetic poetry, and it got weird.

And by weird, I mean awesome.

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^ I still say my first attempt was my best.

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What?

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OK, guys, that’s just creepy…

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Eew, no.

And the little guy’s offerings were like Engrish poetry:

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That’s it. I have nothing deep, profound, insightful, or otherwise meaningful to add. Just some random fridge words. You’re welcome.

Happy snow day, everyone.


Domestic Goddess

I realized today that my husband is a better housewife than I am.

I had to drive 45 minutes to the doctor for my annual poke n’ prod (and not the good kind, either). I spent an hour in Walmart battling the crowds of coyotes and cows, then picked up a few things for my husband. All told, I was gone for 4.5 hours.

He did three loads of laundry, did the dishes, and scrubbed the dishrack.

I’m not saying I don’t do anything, but that’s impressive for someone who’s not responsible for those things.

On top of this, I just turned on the faucet and shot water all over the kitchen (my bad, shouldn’t have left that tiny bowl in the sink) and accidentally put a plastic-handled knife in the oven.

Good thing I’m good at other stuff, eh? Like… Um… Gimme a minute.

In the meantime, Amy Snow!

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TGIO

It’s over, it’s over, it’s over!!!

No, not NaNoWriMo- that IS over, but I’m not celebrating it. I’m celebrating my win (over 70,000 words), but I’ll miss it a lot. The writing buddies, the forums, the pressure to just get through those tough spots and keep going, the permission to put off washing the floors in favour of writing… I’m sad to see all of that go.

No, what I’m celebrating is the end of Movember. I know it’s a good cause, I just really dislike mustaches in general. Tom Selleck is allowed to have one. The guys in the movie Tombstone can keep theirs and I’ll still watch it. My father-in-law can also keep his, because it suits him and I’m not entirely convinced that he actually has a lip under there. But not his son. My husband has fine, blond hair. He was not pleased with the results of his lip-hair experiment, and I don’t like prickly face. Not fun for either of us.

I donated money. I tried to be supportive. I’ve even said that next year we can match the donations he got this year if he’ll give the money to someone else. I think he was a little insulted by that… But I still don’t like Movember.*

He’s been itching to shave for the past week. I’m proud of him for sticking it out, but HOORAY, it’s over!!!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have floors to wash. Right after I figure out how to get two mer folk, a sorcerer and a semi-unconscious sorceress out of a well-guarded enemy fortress, while stopping to rescue a deposed king on the way.

What? Fun habits die hard. The floors can wait a little longer…

*huh. Autocorrect knows the word “Movember.” Not NaNoWriMo, though. I wonder what I can grow for insane writing challenge awareness?


Bad, Bad Romance

There was a forum thread at NaNoWriMo.org asking how to write non-cheesy romance scenes. I’m going to go with, “do the opposite of this”:

“My heart exploded into butterflies and puppies, and even though the love-puppies weren’t house-trained, it was OK, because they urinated sunshine and sugary syrup, like the kind you give to hummingbirds, all over the carpet of my heart.”

Maybe I should work on my own novel instead of coming up with theoretical, horrible metaphors for non-existent romance novels, but this is so fun.

Over 22,000 words as of today, hoping to get over 25,000 tonight or early tomorrow.


Port Blandford

Another quickie today- NaNoWriMo rolls on, and I have a headache. I showed up, don’t expect coherence or understandableness, ok?

So, Port Blandford. It’s a town we pass on our way to St. John’s, just another “WTF, NL?” town name (see also: Dildo). We’ve made a game out of it, because the drive is 4 hours long, and it’s fun. It has no official name; I’ll call it Port Blandford Facts.

Did you know…

– In Port Blandford, they eat their Kraft Dinner without the cheese.

-Port Blandford’s town flag is a taupe cod on a field of taupe.

-Someone once got shunned in Port Blandford for painting his house beige. It was too exciting.

Get it? It’s bland. (I didn’t say it was an exciting game, but I look forward to it.)

-the library in Port Blandford has no Fiction section.

-The only cheese they serve in Port Blandford is mild cheddar, and ketchup is a controlled substance.

Yeah, I’m done. Add your own in the comments. Maybe I’ll get a picture of the sign on the way by next time. It’s SUPER exciting.


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