50th Episode Celebration.

I know I have a separate blog for mommy related things, but I felt the need to share that I just spent the last hour you-tubing ancient Sesame Street episodes, and I have the Do The Rubber Duck song stuck in my head, so I apologise in advance for the direction I fear this entry may take.

Commercials that make April Smile:

Most Mac ads. (Mac vs. PC). If you haven't seen them, you're either a) lame or b) one of the few people who aren't mesmerised by the television, and for that, I salute you. However, if you're reading this, then you clear have computer access and I suggest that you You-Tube a few ads asap. I'll never buy a Mac, but I can appreciate their ads.

The Cheerios commercial where there is a couple seated at a table and the man spills his cheerios, and she gives him a look, then he rolls her a cheerio, she examines it, eats it and smiles. I only like it because she runs out of milk.

More Mac ads. Specifically the one where "PC" is dressed up as "Mac" and telling people to buy PC's.

The back to school ad featuring the song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year". Not because I'm a mom, I've always loved that ad.

The Pro-Active ad featuring Jennifer Love-Hewitt and her acne in "this area".


That's all I can think of at the minute. I'll update once Bones is over I'm sure, or as soon as I can figure out what ad is almost vividly playing in my head.

Until then,

Flannel Pyjamas Says Sleep Is On My Mind.

I'm waiting for everyone else to go to sleep so I can hop on the well-rested train.

Trains. Hmm. There's that three hour and two minute train ride home I get to make Saturday morning I don't particularly like taking the train. Mind you, I don't much like the idea of distance between my bed and myself.

There's also the Mary Murphy Train, complete with ear piercing screams, I mean whistles.

I grew up in a 30 story apartment building.We lived in 3 different units in the same building during our 15 year stay. My grandparents lived there before us. We even took over their unit when they moved out.

The apartment was along the train tracks. There were 5-7 sets of tracks, depending on where you were standing. The set closest to us was usually reserved for Go trains and the occasional misplaced Via train. Another set, in the middle was a set that was never used for anything other than to house the local vegetation. The remaining tracks we used for freight trains, cargo trains, whatever you want to call them.

I really enjoyed watching people herd themselves on and off the Go train, but more than that, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the rail equivalent of the "Erkel" car, a bright yellow one person rail car, that I can only assume was used to service the tracks. It made this funny clicking noise as it passed by, that I could hear quite clearly from our 8th floor apartment.

I don't remember when the yellow cars stopped coming, or if maybe I just stopped looking for them, but they began to appear less frequently, and today, that makes me sad.

I'm typing this from a brand new laptop computer, and I have to say, at this moment I'm less than impressed with the keyboard. I don't know if I have to break it in, or if perhaps this web page is just glitchy, but half of the letters that I type don't appear.

With that, I'm going to stop typing this before I annoy myself beyond reason, but I think my next entry might be a review on this HP laptop of mine.

I Go Walking In My Sleep.

I have never been as wide awake as I am right now (insert yawn here). Apparently I'm not as awake as I thought I was, seeing as my right leg is in fact sleeping from the knee down. I can't seem to get myself to go to bed, so instead of getting the sleep I so desperately need, I'm going to write a blog entry.

I promised music. I can honestly say I haven't worked on anything since I made that claim. I'm not sure why really, but I just haven't had it in me to write. I've barely even played.

I'm sitting alone (an rare occurrence), in the living room (even more rare), I can here a TV on in the house, though it's not the one I'm sitting in front of. That's right, at some point in time today I managed to gather the strength to turn off Treehouse. I believe that the sounds I am hearing are coming from one of the bedrooms upstairs, as opposed to mine, which is down stairs.

The roof here is metal, I can't say for sure what it is, though I'm tempted to say tin, knowing that if there is one thing it isn't, that one thing would be tin. It doesn't particularly matter anyway. It's raining, it has been for hours, and the sound of the water hitting the roof is truly amazing, and I think that's why I can't bring myself to head downstairs. I can not hear the rain in the basement.

I'm not sure where I am going with this entry, other than crazy, so I'm gonna end it here. My apologies for the lack of content. Cheerio.

That's Okay, I Didn't Want to Interact With You Today Anyway.

Even as I'm writing this, I can't seem to pull my eyes away from the television. The fact that the television is currently showing "Treehouse" doesn't seem to be a deterrent either.

I've been doing some thinking. I was originally going to title this chapter "I'm sorry sir, but your wife is dying from television exposure" but I don't like the term "wife", so as I'm typing this sentence, the chapter remains untitled.

I can't seem to find the words to express what I'm trying to say, but basically, I hate television. I'm not sure if I've covered this topic yet. I hate that it's not only become the go-to, in the event that someone is not sure if there is something better they should be doing with their time, but it's also become priority to most other things.

Honestly, when was the last time you put something off until a commercial started? How often do you find yourself browsing through the television guide, just because there might be something on.

I find that I know two types of people who watch far too much television. There is the type that just likes to sit in front of the television because they don't feel like doing anything productive or social, and there is the type that is just completely clueless, and browses hours, and days in advance, just in case they'll have to put their life on hold because something showing on television. They set reminders, as their loved ones watch, hopelessly thinking "that's okay, I didn't want to interact with you today anyway" while crying on the inside.

Cuddling up and watching a movie is only romantic if it isn't suggested or done on a daily basis, and if it actually includes some cuddling. Also, if your significant other is trying to get a little closer, to sigh and mutter anything along the lines of "I'm trying to watch the movie", it's a total mood killer, and it kills every mood. Not just the "I want to be closer to you" mood (no matter what scale 'closer' happens to be on), but it also kills the mood to watch the movie.

I can't think of a way to end this entry, so I just will.

It's Been A While.

Okay, so now I'm thinking Nickleback. Hurray. I'm not a Nickleback fan. I could have been, there was some potential, but when it really comes down to it, not my thing.

Why don't I like Nickleback? I'll skip my usual "Yes Chad, Nickleback does suck" answer and get right into the specifics. I learned to play one Nickleback song, on guitar, for a friend, and I'll confess it wasn't the most horrible song I've ever heard, or played. Consequently, upon learning I realized that I could now fake every hit song (and regrettably there are many) that Nickleback has ever had, and no one would know the difference, except for maybe the band, and a few die hard fans. That's reason number one. Reasons numbers 2-18 consist of various complaints about the frequency in which Nickleback is played on the radio, and the remarkable way Nickleback is playing in almost every store I walk into. Reason number 19 is that there is one song (I'm sure there are many others I haven't heard) that makes me think that the band consists mostly of dirt bags I wouldn't want to meet on the street. The name of the song? "Figured You Out". Something about the lyrics just scream "JERK" to me.

Anyway, we've moved. I've moved. I'm now living in the middle of nowhere, and when I say nowhere, I do mean that I cannot walk to anywhere of value, and I can't use my cell phone. I must say, I love it. It's taken a little bit of effort to get the family adjusted, but I think for the most part all is well. I really do love it here. It's so quiet, and friendly, and as John has pointed out, I have a fireplace in my bedroom. Sexy.

I'll end this one here for now, my apologies for taking so long, and I'm sorry Chad.

The Countdown Begins.

We're moving, the weekend of the 19th.

I won't bore you with the horrendous details of packing, cleaning, and tying up lose ends, and by the end of this post, I'll try to come up with something worth reading about.

Before this almost sudden move, and before our move to here, and before I was a mother, I, like most mothers, was a completely different person. I liked to party, I liked to meet people, I liked to drink, and I liked to participate in various activities that always ended in some sort of awkwardness.

Mostly, I liked music. I loved going to concerts, I loved writing music, and I loved sitting alone with my guitar and a bottle what ever "cooler" was readily available at the time. What can I say? I was a hard core drunk. Fruity beverages all the way.

I started "dating" when I was 15, and by "dating" I mean that I started having boyfriends. I loved boys. If I were to add together all the days in which I was single between then and now, I might have been single for half a year, maybe a little more. It's not something I'm proud of, and though I don't have many regrets, if I could do it all again, I probably would have spent a little more time being single, and a lot more time actually dating, by which I mean getting to know someone and proceed to go out on dates. That's something I feel I never really did.

Having a baby is one of many life changing events in which you will find out who your friends really are, who your acquaintances are, and who you, yourself, may have been using. Getting married is another one of those milestones. People stop talking to you, and you start to put distance between yourself and certain people, mostly those who tend to get you into trouble.

I've lost, and made a lot of friends over the last few years, and now, with this move I'm leaving most of them behind. It makes me sad, because I'll miss them, but I'm glad that we're getting the chance to start over, from scratch, and hopefully build a better life, and a home, so that when my real friends come to visit, I'll have something worth showing off... and worth the 4 hour drive.

Up Coming Count Down Warning.

It's unofficial, but there is a vague countdown forming in my head, and I'm surprisingly excited about it. I find myself anxious, and relieved that our move is inching closer, and I honestly can not wait to be done with it.

What prompted this new found certainty in this move? Yesterday there was what some have called a "barbecue" in front of my current residence. It was actually a street party which started some time mid-afternoon, for the sake of the story, lets say around three p.m.

Something just occurred to me, I can't remember what "p.m." means other than "afternoon". Let me google it...

Excellent. According to dictionary.com, "P.M." stands for post meridiem, Latin for after noon. Post meaning after, meridiem representing midday.

Where was I? Oh yes, this "barbecue" lasted approximately 12 hours, finally leaving the community in near silence around three a.m. (ante meridiem, ante meaning before, and well, you know the rest).

I'm all for a good party, I really am. But I live on the 3rd floor of my building, and my washroom does not share an outside wall. Upon showering, I had the luxury of being serenaded by non-stop tunes, mostly rap that you would hear on whatever your local pop-music station is. Not only did I get to listen to such choice music over the sound of running water, but the music was being blasted from someones not-so-great but far-too-powerful car speaker system. Let's not forget that the bass is a full volume, and that my walls are literally vibrating in time with the music.

This combined with the constant ringing of a phone that I could have sworn was glued outside my 3rd story window, the sounds of 10-year-old children yelling "fuck you" to one another, and the wonderful smell of low-quality marijuana filling my apartment, left me a little less than impressed.

But even though the 30 people outside managed to sound like 200 people, I was patient, and kept my thoughts to myself, despite not being able to put my daughter down for a nap.

Where I'm losing my patients is with the mess they left outside. There is so much garbage outside you'd think that the city workers were still on strike. There are paper plates and napkins everywhere. The saddest part is, building management just finally took the initiative to clean up the outside of the building, and it actually looked quite nice before these people felt the need to destroy it all.

The moral of the story? I don't remember, but all the litter, and noise pollution, have just made it so much easier to pack up and leave it all behind. So be warned. I'm definitely leaving, and will being doing so as soon as possible.