Monday, 28 December 2015
At least I've been shaving my legs more often. I only say that because one time I logged on to a Facebook account, saw that it had been six weeks since my last log-in, and then I looked down and realized that my legs had suffered the same fate. So, yay, been shaving my legs. A little more often than I've been blogging.
I'm supposed to be doing payroll for a client right now, but I'm thinking that that will happen in the morning because a bath and a Jack Reacher novel and a glass of wine are much more desirable uses of my time. And, I have to shave my legs, so...
See you soon, I promise.
Friday, 11 December 2015
Monday, 28 September 2015
Super quick BMBR because I'm at work and books 3 & 2 only cheap for a day or 2 maybe. 1 may still be free (thanks Bookbub).
In agreement with the 1 star review on Amazon.ca for book 2, these aren't the best written books with the best plots and if it's a scene without sex it's okay at best.
But if you want to laugh your ass off in some places, get some sex tips (anal too), and just plain want some foreplay, go for it.
It's like reading porn but funnier.
Edited to add: I've read more of book 2.
Bottom line: if you're in this for more than a ton of gratuitous sex between people who are all super gorgeous with perfect bodies and wondrous sexy parts, you'll be disappointed by the super cheesy writing and the huge lack of a plot. It's just porn, really.
I wouldn't spend more than a buck or two per book.
Saturday, 5 September 2015
Warning: spoiler alert on Me Without You, but that can happen if you read the reviews on Amazon, too. Don't worry. Knowing doesn't take away from the story.
The Secret Daughter was good except for how annoyingly over reactive the main character was about learning that she was adopted. I think at one point I even skipped a few pages because of it.
Aside from that, it was an eye-opening look at the issue of forced adoption. It happened in Canada too, and I had little idea.
Me Without You is a great read. Guy meets girl and she changes his life for the better, even after she dies.
This is just such a wonderful book. Because this book is the definition of catharsis, you will need a box of tissue handy.
Bottom line: Me Without You is a must read.
Tuesday, 1 September 2015
This one was free (thanks Bookbub), and it was good enough to buy the second one, Eternal Destiny, for less than 4 bucks.
The intelligence level of the conversation - and there is a freaking lot of it - however, took a nosedive into Stupid Land.
OK, firstly I shall give you a quick synopsis. Or is it first I will give you... etc. Ah who cares. It's almost ten pm and I had wine. So moving on. Onward. Erg.
Girl goes through portal (with a few of her friends) into an alternate dimension where it's medieval-Era and every freaking paranormal/magical story element exists (and shows up throughout the story at great convenience, but not in a well-written kind of way), and her sister, who disappeared from the same area ten years ago is there and married and immortal! Girl then gets mistaken for a princess and ends up married and illegally made immortal.
The action and adventure ensues, not too badly in the first book, but kills brain cells in the second and it wasn't until a character from our time says something about not having seen Days of our Lives in a while, but the drama is making up for it. In fact, he felt like he was on an episode of Maury.
Aha. Ms. Peebles watches soaps and trashy daytime TV and tries to write a book (or two or four. The count is getting up there) like it's a soap opera, but she just can't pull it off.
It's too bad. I had high hopes for the premise.
Bottom line: the first book is free. Go for it. The second book? I'm at 75% on the Kindle, and it's getting really hard to care whether or not the dragon eats them. Maybe it's because the girl is still trying to get back home even though she is physically bound to the wedding ring that binds her to the hot husband that she's in love with because she's a whiny little princess who complains non-stop about the lack of Sheraton hotels and drive-through restaurants. Waah. Life's to hard. Boo hoo.
Just have sex with your husband already. Gah.
Monday, 3 August 2015
When asked about anything more complicated than putting on makeup, or than clothing choices for specific occasions, just say that it's not in the Bible, or that you don't agree with it at all!
And since nothing is more complicated than putting on makeup, really, you should be fine!
I did my clothes, and while everyone thought that I was spending a lot of time making the kids' drawers so pretty with the rolls of clothing when they'd probably just whip out ALL of the clothes and make a mess, I've found that this isn't the case. Maybe because they can see all of the clothes, they don't have to rip everything out, and the drawers actually stayed quite tidy.
Then we did the toys. The "putting away daily" part of that hasn't taken hold quite yet, but we'll get there before school starts. Or, I'll just toss it all, wooaahahaha. Kidding. But it's tempting.
Next on her list is books. I've done the cookbooks. And I even culled the old scrapbooks of cutouts that I got from a grandmother--mostly recipes I'd never use anyway, and I only kept a few of her handwritten recipes. I actually really want to go through MY books now, but the kids are playing with the Legos in the dining room, and since that's also my "library", they'll have to wait.
So I moved on to papers, instead. Which I'd gone through just a short month ago. Yesterday, however, I managed to fit the entire top drawer of my lateral-file filing cabinet into the filing drawer on my desk.
Now there's room in the filing cabinet to store things like the kids' construction paper (which, by the way, now has a hanging-folder for each colour, which makes it infinitely easier to get the sheet that you want). All my blank paper and notebooks have their own hanging-folder. Soon I will be able to get rid of the weird TV cabinet that we've been using as storage and as a desk for Hubby, and then get him a real desk! Or something.
So, this week's goal is books, and or the kitchen/pantry. The pantry may be an entity all on its own, just like that weirdly nebulous area above the fridge.
Saturday, 25 July 2015
Except maybe cloudy thoughts, which match the weather today, swirling in my head, trying to come up with something to write.
Hey, didn't I get that book, the one that gives you 600+ things to write about? (Looks around house. Mentally.) Yeah, I'm not sure where it is, so maybe tomorrow I'll do something from that.
Have you seen or heard of that tidying book that will change your life? the life-changing magic of tidying up: the Japanese are of decluttering and organizing by Marie Kondo. It's awesome. I did clothes. Then I did toys (added that category). My kids' toys. Hmm. Maybe I should do my toys next...
The next topic is books. I will do the kitchen first.
I got married last weekend. Officially, not common-law-y. Someone at worked did that finger-shame-on-you thing because we've been "living in sin" for 9 years and 2 kids already. Maybe I was a virgin until last weekend? With 2 kids. And toys. Yeah, maybe not.
Then same person tsk-tsked all the single parents in his neighbourhood. I told him life happens, and not everyone is perfect. Mentally I may have been telling him to fuck off a little.
It's noticeably darker earlier at night, now. Sure, we can convince the kids to go to bed a little earlier now, but it's also harder to stay up later ourselves. Not that we're ever not tired by nine, anyway, so moot point, perhaps.
I'm trying to find out if we can house chickens in our backyard. The egg-laying kind, not the alarm-clock kind. What I read in the bylaws, and what "friends" tell me are two different things, so I'm going to see what the city tells me.
I was out of my office for 2 hours yesterday, and left my phone in my office. My mom phoned me six times while I was out. Six. One message. You know what she wanted? To know what kind of pizza she should get for the boys etc. Really? My grandmother has a terminal illness and you phone six times about pizza? Then when I was checking the message, she phoned a 7th time to tell me that she ordered whatever and was going to pick it up. Seven. Seven times about pizza. So not an emergency. Fucking freaked me out a little. I hope that should something happen to Grandma, she'd think to phone work if I didn't answer my cell phone.
I should water my orchid. Every time I do I must put it back facing a different direction because it's spiraling nicely. Kind of like my life. Not out of control, but definitely not in a straight line, either.
I haven't done a BMBR lately. I have been reading. Hmmm. Tomorrow.
I'm looking out my front window right now, and I'm kinda wishing that I could see in to the neighbours' windows. No reason. Just bored.
Thursday, 23 July 2015
All the girls in the wedding party were sitting around tearing apart off-the-shelf bouquets to rebuild into works of art. A couple people kept coming downstairs to ask the bride-to-be a million questions. It was actually only a couple of questions, but apparently it was still annoying to the nth degree.
We were actually thinking that perhaps a reality TV crew would be popping their heads out from around the corner at any moment, when BTB says, "I have to go poop. Be right back."
Maybe it was the discomfort that was making her crazy, and maybe it was the poop that wasn't allowing the caffeine in the coffee to be absorbed, but whatever it was, when she got back, she was happy and alert. And once again mellow.
So, if someone's ever suddenly really bitchy and uncomfortable-looking, they may just have to poop.
Monday, 6 July 2015
The other day was one of those long, difficult and confusing days that only year end/tax season can give you. The kind of day where you're already trying to not cry because of some family drama (over a cat of all things), and by the end of your workday - for your day job - you're going to have three hours of extra bookkeeping to do at some point tonight - you're feeling like you've been through only the first of several wringers in a commercial laundromat.
So when Hubby called to request that I stop on the way home to get cream for the coffee, and some munchies for the game, and suggested that I get a treat for myself, I thought, ooh. Lindor chocolate.
I stopped at this Save-On Foods on the way home. Don't be fooled by the misnomer, by the way. I picked up the cream and some potato chips, and I wandered around until I finally found the bulk bins that house the Lindts. It took a while because I had to go through the book aisle to find them. Poor me.
The dark chocolate balls were on sale (exciting!) and there was a NEW flavour, citrus, which sounded tantalizing. The citrus balls were not on sale, so being the honest soul that I am, I wrote down the bin numbers for both chocolates.
I made my way to the express till, the line up for which was only slightly less long than those of the other ten tills that were open. Which is all of them. Every single till was open, and they were all at least five people deep.
And, I got the new girl.
Usually this isn't a problem. Usually.
Since the chocolates were the most important purchase, they were the first on the belt. I dutifully informed the cashier that one number was for the dark chocolates and that the other was for the citrus. She put the two dark balls on the scale and punched in the SKU. Then she punched in the SKU again. She was reaching for the one citrus ball when I pointed out that she'd just charged me twice for the dark balls. It even displayed so on the till screen.
"But there are two," she said with a perplexed look on her face.
"They're sold by weight, not by each," I replied. "And you just sold them to me twice."
The look of confusion only increased as she looked at the screen, and read back to me the per gram amount as if it were the amount I were going to pay. "See," she said. "It's only that much, and there are two."
At this point I realized three things:
1. She did not understand the difference between sold by weight and sold by each, nor that if it was by each, she wouldn't have had to put them on the scale.
2. She didn't even know how to read her till.
3. I was not in the right frame of mind to try to explain any of these concepts to her in such a way that would a) teach her b) without making her feel like a useless idiot. I wasn't even in the mood to bring over a supervisor and hold up a long line of tired looking folks just so I could have a fucking chocolate.
"Take them off," I said.
She looked perplexed again. "Just take them both off."
She did, and she managed to scan everything else in without too much trouble, and I know what you're thinking: so you had to pay for some chocolate twice! How much difference could it really be? Buddy, Lindt isn't cheap shit. It makes a huge difference!
Anyway, on my way out I thought I'd stop by the service counter and say, "Hey, so, some training for your tellers before you throw them to the wolves by themselves on an express till at the just-got-off-work rush would probably be cool." But the line up there was even longer.
So I left and walked out to the car, and just as I was starting it Hubby phoned to see if I was okay (because I was taking so long. Stupid book aisle). I said yeah.
"Are you crying?" he asked.
"I needed some chocolate," I said. "And I didn't get any."
I then related the whole story.
"Just come home and have some supper," he said.
So I did. And afterwards he went online to fill in the customer satisfaction survey, which was requested at the bottom of my receipt by the way. I eventually got an automatically generated "we'll get in touch with you" emails. I'm still waiting. . .
Wednesday, 10 June 2015
Monday, 1 June 2015
Who wouldn't want to read a book written by four-year-olds? I mean, it would be non-stop action, full of creativity, a conversational dream, and it would be full of so many plot twists, the Networks would sit up and take notice!
Sunday, 31 May 2015
1. Dedicated, fit, "Advanced" swimmers who are able to swim an Olympic length over and over and over again without ever looking like it's an effort. These people are actually in the minority, and their zone is the Advanced swimming lane. That's not my group.
2. The Aqua-Fitters. These ladies are rocking the leisure pool with excellent coordination and range of motion, and they never look like they're going to expire at any moment. This isn't my group.
3. The "Intermediate" swimmers. The Advanced swimmers are way too fast, and the Leisure swimmers are way too slow. The Intermediate swimmers set a nice pace that is nothing too strenuous, but at the same time isn't a Sunday Drive. There may be a rest at the end of every lap or two, but the pace is steady and true. I thought this was my group. I was very, very, wrong.
4. The "Leisure" swimmers. These
I walked to the lap pool, looked at the Leisure Lane, saw the bobbing, and thought to myself, too slow. I'll be mowing those poor women down.
Okay, maybe a little back story is in order: I remember being an awesome swimmer. I couldn't run to save my life, Sports Day at school was an embarrassing form of torture, I could maybe fake one push-up if I was on my knees, but put me in a pool and my weak little arms could pull me along faster than all the fit kids could swim. Swimming was easy.
So, I'm thinking, at this point, that just because a (tiny) broken bone in the bottom of my foot has kept me essentially immobile for the last two years, swimming should still be easy. I should be able to do a few front-crawling laps in the Intermediate Lane no problem.
I was wrong. I was wrong like a four-year-old is wrong when he thinks it's okay to teach his younger brother that it's okay to flush toilet paper rolls down the toilet (full or empty--either way). I was wrong like the Church was wrong when it excommunicated people for thinking that the Earth was round.
I was wrong like a fat, 40 year old woman who had two kids in her late thirties and whose life just kept getting more and more sedentary for various reasons is wrong when she thinks, hey, I used to ride my bike to the recreation centre, work out in the gym for an hour, then swim a few laps, then ride my bike home to do yoga on the lawn for half an hour or so, then maybe go horseback riding for a few hours, so how hard can this be?
I front-crawled for half a lap before my brain realized that I may actually drown in this really freaking big pool. There's a bit of a feeling of safety when your laps aren't Olympic length. When they are, and the "shallow" end is still over your head? The edges are so very far away. I had to back-stroke for most of my swim just so that I could breath!
I did manage two full laps (one lap being there-and-back), but I'm pretty sure that the little old ladies out-lapped me. The old men in my lane most certainly did.
I'm going again this week.
Monday, 18 May 2015
They come up with some pretty interesting stuff.
Like, how to use "like" in a sentence properly, if you, like, grew up in, like, that decade that was like, a couple decades ago.
They also have this thing going in a New Adult novel where an assassin and an unaware innocent meet and fall in love and overcome all kinds of odds and emotional dysfunctions to make things work, except get this: the assassin is the girl!
Actually, I might get cracking on that one.
Monday, 30 March 2015
The lyrics of "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse.
Yep. Perfect storyline! My heroine is going to prove to the WORLD that her "temperamental" antagonist is worthy of everyone's love, not just hers!
Except, instead of temperamental we're going to describe him as mercurial to prove that we, like, have a good vocabulary.
And, we're going to be the new Fifty Shades.
This is going to sell!
Monday, 23 March 2015
Tuesday, 3 February 2015
I went through today's Amazon recommendations, and two of the stories are about plucky heroines that inherit a hotel/inn, and then try to not fall in love with the guy that thinks that he should have inherited, or the guy that broke her heart when she was sixteen and visiting Nana or whoever owned the inn beforehand.
Awesome! That sounds like an easy enough story to write, and since it's a guaranteed publishing in, done!