From Here to There

Because Half-Assed Only Works For So Long


Dogs, Purses, and The Poo-Shuffle

Add text(12)Yesterday after I dealt with all of the more urgent tasks that followed the theft of my purse, I took my mother’s advice and went for a walk. Her reasoning was that once the thief had what he wanted out of my beautiful Made-in-Canada shoulder bag, the dirty rotten bastard probably discarded the rest. Which is probably exactly what happened.

While going for a walk seemed like a good idea, taking my dog along might not have been. He relishes any opportunity for a walk, but our goals were not compatible. His was to race ahead and then suddenly stop dead at some interesting scent or dog mail while trying to piss on all the things, or at least all the upright things.

I never have much tolerance for this because I think it’s rude to allow a dog to lift their leg on everything. The best way to prevent leg lifting during a walk is to move briskly but because I was studying the side of road for traces of my purse, moving briskly wasn’t happening. I allowed the stops for sniffing while encouraging my dog to keep them brief, but after one or two leg lifts I wasn’t having any more of that. We carried on our walk/search with me tugging his leash and sternly telling him “no” every time something upright caught his fancy. All of this while worrying about the one very important thing I had forgotten to bring along for our walk. The poop bag.

Putting a leash on my dog has exactly the same effect on him as that first cup of coffee does for us humans. Sometimes we don’t even make it to the road before the leash takes effect. The leash works so quickly for my dog, that I have accepted I will carry a bag of dog crap for at least 80% of every walk taken in a public place. Back of the pond does not count, in an area already full of deer turds and coyote scat, Louie’s contributions don’t matter. When we walk back there, the only thing I insist on is that he wait until we are there before he goes. Which is how I know dogs have their own version of the poo shuffle. If you aren’t familiar with the poo shuffle, think back to the last time one of your children was too busy playing to head for the bathroom in a timely manner or think of a penguin.

While I was searching for my leather and suede shoulder bag, I was watching the dog and praying his bowels were empty. Then he started to do the hunch. Panicking, I jerked his leash while saying “no!” in my sharpest voice, the one that rolls off The Asshats like water off a duck’s back. But the dog? He stopped mid-hunch, completely prepared to do the poo shuffle for as long as I expected him to. Rather than test his endurance, I accepted that I probably wasn’t going to find my bag and headed for home.

I can’t stop shitty things from happening but at I did stop poop from happening.


Somebody Stole My Purse – Dirty Rotten Bastards Part 2

Add text(3)Quick!

List everything that’s in your purse. Don’t tell me, just think about it. Because that is what I’ve spent most of my day thinking about. What was in my purse, because I can’t just dump it out on the kitchen table and take an inventory since some dirty rotten bastard stole it last night.

My best friend is out of town so I had agreed to give her son a ride to his soccer game. He was at my house promptly for 9:30. I grabbed my jacket, my phone and…

“Wait a minute, where’s my purse?”

At this point because I still believed I had dropped it in some random spot in my house, I took the kid to his soccer game. Back home by 10:30 I searched the car, the trunk and the house. I even looked under the bed.

No Purse.

No purse means no bank cards, no credit card. No purse means no drivers license and no vehicle registration. It’s now 11on a Saturday – I have until noon to resolve the bank cards. Except there is a parade in town today. Of course there’s a parade, one that neatly bisects the town in half with no way to get around it. I’m on the South side and I need to get to the North side, I ended up parking at a store and walking across the road to the bank.

Thirty minutes later, the two missing bank cards are cancelled and I have two brand new “unpinned” bank cards in my hand. The machine that “pins” the cards isn’t working. Of course it isn’t. Luckily, she tried another terminal and that one worked. With only twenty minutes left until noon I race walked back across the road to my car.

Thankfully, the parade was now finished and I headed to the License Bureau. I grabbed my number – 56 – and sat down to wait my turn. I have never in my life felt so naked while being fully clothed. I had my phone, my keys, a check book and two bank cards. No identification whatsoever. Nothing, no Birth Certificate, no Social Insurance Card, and my beloved red & white Health Card was gone.

One hour and thirty bucks later, I was on my way with a temporary driver’s license and a new vehicle registration. I headed for home. Straight home and do not pass go or stop for cigarettes, because there’s still a credit card to look after. I pulled the file and called customer service, where I got an automated phone system asking for my credit card number. Of course I needed that. Because I don’t know what the number is. The card is so new, I haven’t even received a bill yet.

Eventually I spoke to a human. At this point I still desperately wanted to believe that my purse wasn’t stolen. That nobody walked into my house and scooped it off the kitchen table or out of my office. That I couldn’t have possibly left it in my unlocked car overnight. I wanted to believe anything but that my purse was stolen. I couldn’t believe that any longer when the customer service lady told me that someone had tried to take a cash advance on my credit card at 2am this morning.

So what was in my purse?

My birth certificate which will cost about $25 and take 4-6 weeks to arrive, and when it does it will be a paper one instead of the laminated one I had.

My social insurance card which will cost something and can’t be replaced until I have my birth certificate.

My health card which will also cost something and can’t be replaced until I have my birth certificate and my new driver’s license. It also won’t be my old red & white one that never expires, it will be the new photo card that has to be renewed every five years.

All of my work related receipts that I would have submitted for reimbursement. Assuming that work will accept my credit card statement for some of them, there is still about $120 to $180 worth of gas receipts that won’t be on the credit card statement.

Twenty dollars and some miscellaneous change. Business cards, immunization records, some customer loyalty cards. Some granola bar crumbs, my collection of Canadian Tire money.

Thankfully my keys, neither of my phones nor my iPad were in my purse. Thankfully, I’m past the point of carrying my kids ID.

Right now I have two bank cards and no wallet to put them in, no identification and no purse to put any of it in. As much as I feel the violation of the theft, the feeling of having been left naked and vulnerable by the absence of my purse and what it contained is far worse.


Is That Pizza or Pasties On My Sweater

This new job is a huge change. I went from working in a refrigerated warehouse where I just wore all the clothes, to a job where I needed to look groomed and professional. I’m not sure I’ll ever get really good at the groomed part – I’m just not that into mirror time – but I’ve been working diligently on the professional part and almost completely replaced my wardrobe.

Last weekend while I was running errands, I popped into Suzy Shier on a whim. I’ve always avoided the store thinking the clothing there was too young for me. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that while sure, some of it was young there was still a good selection of clothing I would wear.

Following my usual plan of attack when shopping for clothes I hit the sale rack first and saw a red sweater. Not just any red either, but the deep garnet red I prefer. The only down side was the beading. I hate clothing that needs special care, but since my entire wardrobe now requires special care I figure why not and bought it.

Yesterday was the first time I wore it. It was a travel day, and every single time I caught a glimpse of my belly I was brushing at the food I thought I had slopped on myself and finding beads instead. Beaded sweaters might be new to me, wearing my dinner isn’t. All day long I was trying to brush non-existent food off of the front of my shirt.

Later, while eating my pizza, I caught a glimpse from a slightly different angle and thought I’d slopped pizza on my boob. After realizing that it was still just the beading I had an epiphany.

I walked around all day with a cluster of beads squarely in the middle of each boob. I can’t decide if I should pick all the beads off or add a tassel to the nipple clusters.

Linking up at Yeah Write for the Weekend Moonshine Grid. Good company, relaxed conversation, Pasties optional.


If I had Been On Twitter When My Kids Were Little

If I Had Been On Twitter When My Kids Were LittleWhile I was driving today, I started thinking of how it would have been if I had been on Twitter when my boys were little. Then I started composing imaginary tweets in my head based on true events.

#1 looked like the Gerber baby and the old ladies I would see at the grocery store all seemed to love fussing over him.

So glad nobody can understand A1 but me. He keeps telling all the nice old ladies to “wit ooking at me” #datwisntberrywice

I’m an extremely sound sleeper and when #1 was little this was a cause for concern.

Found A1 sitting naked on the kitchen counter trying to make coffee this morning. #thanksbutnothanks

Fastest way to clean a dozen busted eggs off the floor? A dustpan. #needababygate

Bedtime was always an endurance test and #1 learned how to climb out of his crib at a very young age. Thinking it would be safer I started leaving the side down.

A1 did a backflip out of his crib last night. Broke 3 bones in his hand. #mattressonthefloor

#1 was the only child I’ve ever seen display sibling rivalry with a dog. His jealousy of my mom’s dog was epic.

My mom found her dog’s toy in the freezer today.  #thedogcantopenthefrige

At my mom’s house. A1 is eating a Milk Bone saying Ha Ha I got the green one! #whilethedogwatches

Having a baby brother did not improve his jealousy issues.

A1 sprayed his baby brother with air freshener today because he smelled like poop. #onemorethingwecanthave

#2 was a notoriously picky eater. Getting food in him was usually a struggle.

Made gravy from a peppercorn roast today. A2 devoured his mashed potatoes and gravy. #tasteditlater #thatshitwashot!

Tried out coloring with A2 today. #apparentlycrayonstastegood

Tried out coloring with markers with A2 today. #markersareyummytoo

Left A1 and A2 in the sandbox for one minute and A2 started eating sand. #crunchy #hisbrothertoldhimto

Then there was the time they peeled up my kitchen floor tiles.

Awesome Friday night with hubby replacing the floor my boys peeled up today. #nomorenapsformommy!

After a few years I needed to get out of the house or burn out so I got a job. Daycare wasn’t available for my first week but the teenager down the road agreed to babysit for the week.

Second day of working full-time – the babysitter quit. #somedaysIwishIcouldtoo

They got old enough for friends to start coming around. We didn’t do playdates in my neighborhood. Kids just walked around until they found a group of other kids to play with. If there was any fighting they went and played with another group for a few days.

Just sat through 5 blow-by-blow instant replays of an imaginary Hot Wheels car crash. #youthoughtwatchinggolfwasboring

Am I the only parent who knows how to change a bicycle tire. #Ishouldstartchargingmoney

Just ran over my kid’s bike ramp. #Cavaliersdontdoramps

Ten kids in my sandbox right now, it’s only 4′ x 4′. They each have the equivalent of a pail of sand. #buttheyaregettingalong!

Thought someone stole my wheelbarrow today. Found it, my shovel, a rake, and a hoe in the empty lot. #kidsbikecourse

#1 had an obsession with climbing onto my roof. He used to got out his bedroom window to get on it.

Did I just hear a skateboard on my roof? #gottarun

A1 won’t stay off my roof so I had him put my Christmas Lights up today. #pleasedontcallCAS

A1 still won’t stay off the roof. He cleaned the gutters for me today. #pleasedontcallCAS

#1 is four years older than his brother. The pre-teen years were a slice.

A1 drew dick pics on his brother’s back today. With a Sharpie. #thankgodrubbingalcoholtookitoff

Today our family counsellor said she’s surprised I’m not a raging alcoholic. #IfeelSOmuchbetternow

The teen years were nearly as awesome.

Came home today to the neighbors truck shrink-wrapped. The neighbors are all congratulating #1. #stillgavehimshit

At least I can laugh about it now.


I’m Geographically Challenged and I Want Sean Connery To Navigate

Add textI am geographically challenged in a very bad way. It’s so bad I have to recite Never Eat Sour Watermelon in my head while facing north if I’m trying to figure out east from west. I once took my two boys to the Science Center in Toronto. We arrived easy enough thanks to Mapquest, but for some reason I figured I didn’t need to Mapquest the directions home. So after making a right turn into the parking lot when we arrived, I did the obvious and logical thing when we were leaving. I made a right out of the parking lot. In Toronto where I’d never driven before. With the two Asshats wrestling so vigorously in the back of my Cavalier that it felt like the car was making lane changes all on its own.

Good times.

So lately I’ve been traveling. A lot. Except I never know where the hell I’m going or how to get there. Ever. So I use the navigation feature on my phone and this really bossy lady shouts instructions in my ear through the bluetooth while I gawk at the scenery and listen to OAR on repeat because I haven’t taken any other CD’s out to the car. And she doesn’t call the 401 the four-oh-one like most people. She calls it the four hundred and one which is weird. Still, I forgive her for shouting four hundred and one in my ear because the fine for having your phone in your hand while driving is pretty big.

The bossy lady gets pretty huffy though when I deviate from her route, like say when I pull into a service centre to use the facilities. Seriously lady relax, I’ve got to pee and I think I can handle merging back on the four hundred and one without you shouting at me. Today though I think she lost her shit. I was driving home from seeing a customer and happened to see another customer’s business on the road I was on. So I turned around and went back, except it wasn’t as obvious coming from the other way so I passed it. The bossy lady had no idea where I was going and went all code red trying to get me turned back around before I hit Sarnia again.

Make a left onto street “a” in 300 meters.

Make a u-turn in 100 meters. I really think that one was just mean considering we were on a bridge.

Then when I did turn around only to make an unscheduled right turn she really got pissed and stopped talking to me. I think she was still sulking when I got back on my way because I swear I’ve now seen every single back road there is between wherever I was and Tilbury. I’m convinced she had me going in circles just for spite.

The thing is though, running maps on my phone with navigation is a huge battery suck. It’s so bad that on a four-hour drive my phone will be DOA even if I keep it plugged into the charger the entire time. And I can’t see the screen without my glasses. So I’m considering getting a real GPS. One I can mount on my dash, be able to read, and save my phone battery for important things like taking pictures.

I hope the GPS woman understands about pee stops. Better yet, maybe it will be a GPS man. I could handle being bossed around by a guy that sounds like Sean Connery. In fact Sean Connery can boss me around whenever he wants. I won’t even care if he doesn’t say four-oh-one right.