Archive for the ‘stuff’ Category

Today I had a doctor’s appointment in Fredericton, our province’s capital, and spent the rest of the day shopping with my seven month old son.  As a young mother and son that live in the country, we don’t usually have exposure to that many people and things in the run of a few hours so, when we do, it’s fun to note the odd and unusual. 

Here are a few notes to some of the people (and things) that we ran into today. 


To Michael’s … I heart you.  I do.  Every aisle  – the overpriced baskets that scream “fill me”; the undecorated wreaths that beg to be adorned with something special; the unpainted wooden and ceramic items that are just dying for a shiny coat of paint; the multitude of fake flowers that are more expensive than the real thing; and, my latest artsy inclination, the cutters and colors and cake pans that are ready for the next savvy baker with a fancy cake in mind.  Yes, every aisle beams with crafty potential and makes me giddy.  (I will admit to your one downfall, though – much of you is bloody expensive.  I can’t believe people spend $30 on a package of scrapbooking paper – thank goodness I haven’t been sucked into that crazy vortex).


To Winners – I visit you often and am very fond of you (don’t get me wrong) but I always leave you wanting to spend a month’s salary on lottery tickets.  I look longingly at your fancy decorations and clothes but usually leave with a couple of items from the clearance rack.  C’est la vie when you’re working with maternity benefits, I guess. 


To every woman (and the couple of men) who stopped me to talk to Oliver – blonde, brunette, blue haired, young, old, walking, running, sitting, shuffling, shopping – he attracts you all like cheesy magnets to a refrigerator.  And yes… he is adorable, isn’t he? 


To the hospital  – I wish I had known that 2 pm was the absolute worst time to enter the parking lot (due to lack of spaces) and that 3 pm is the absolute worst time to leave the hospital (due to lineup to leave the parking lot).  Now I know. 


To the lady in Admitting wearing the banana clip – come on!  That went out of style at least 15 years ago – you’re not even pretending to try!  Maybe I should have checked your pants for stirrups. 




To the doctor I saw today – You’re friendly and all.  And I know it’s a distraction to have my son in the room with us so thanks for appeasing us young mothers travelling to your hospital.  But using my stirruped legs to hide behind during a game of peek-a-boo with him … well, I’m not sure I even have the words.  Oh wait, yes I do – what the hell?!  (I wish I was kidding.  Sadly, I was distracted enough by why I was there that it didn’t occur to me how out-of-a-sitcom this was until after I left.)


To the man that pressed the elevator’s “Down” button even though he saw me push it and even though he saw that it was lit up – I’m truly sorry that you touching the button a second time didn’t magically make the frigging elevator appear frigging faster!  It seems you don’t have some sort of Midas-like connection with the Otis gods. 


To the used clothing stores – Well… thank goodness for you.  I’m not opposed to buying new things for my son but will never understand why some people insist on having everything brand new.  Why pay $30 when you can pay $6 for something that was worn twice? 


To anyone who saw me breastfeeding publicly today – thank you to those who smile sweetly and get it.  I know we like to think our society is progressive enough not make a big deal out of it, but it is still a head turner for some (hell, it’s a grimace/sneer/aggravation for a few).  Don’t you worry, though, because we breastfeeders are on it.


To my baby boy – you’re so much fun to shop with.  I know many would shudder at the thought of schlepping their infant son to malls and big box stores all day long but not me.  I love that you are so smiley and good natured and happy most of the time.  And I love even more that people seem to be so attracted to your smiley good nature. 

It makes me smile and makes for an awesome day out and about.

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On this topic I can stay quiet no longer. 

I will alienate the die-hards in the crowd.  My words will fuel the debaters hanging on the edge of their seats, just waiting for something to argue about.  I may even infuriate some of you… the adamant among you.  Of all this I am aware and yet I feel I have held my tongue long enough.  For too long.  I must wage on. 

I seriously hate Crocs.  I loathe them, detest them, dislike them. 



There.  I said it. 

But it didn’t stop at Crocs, did it?  No.  My circle of hatred widened a little more with every style… the sandals, the boots, the sandals, the slippers.  And then all of those little decorations they stick in the holes. 

I mean, how many other ways can they reincarnate ugly? 

And then, as if the million-and-one true blue Croc styles weren’t enough, the million-and-one companies creating knock-offs and selling them at every dollar store and corner store would make sure that there was a style, a color, and a price for everyone. 

Great.  Lucky us. 

I may have been able to jump on the Croc bandwagon if people had bought sensible colors.  But no, what have people gravitated toward?  Not the neutral colors that might actually have a chance in hell at matching an outfit in your closet.  No, people would rather match sunshine yellow Crocs with purple shirts, pylon orange with hot pink shirts, and Barney purple with those red shorts.  Because people buy one pair and wear them with everything they own

My god, I cringe everytime I see someone walking down the street with feet that could be lighthouse beacons. 

And that is my biggest problem with Crocs.,, the fashion aspect.  Day in and day out we are exposed to TV commercials, magazine ads, website pop-ups, and countless other methods of advertising that tell us we need to be on the cutting edge of fashion.  Now, I’m not saying that we should fall for all of that crap but what is it about these flimsy, rubber, hole-filled monstrosities that make people okay with throwing out even the basics of fashion sense? 

Oh, and for the record… just because you fashion them like mary janes, does NOT make them fashionable. 

Is it geography?  Is it because I live in rural, backwoods New Brunswick?  Surely not, because I see them even more often when visiting the nearest cities.  Do you see these things in the bigger city centers as much as I do around here?  I’m dying to know … and a little bit afraid at the same time. 

So there.  Despite how comfortable you say they are, I still think they’re f’ugly. 

And then there’s the social aspect.  Every time a craze like this sweeps our pathetic nations I find myself a little less amazed and a lot more disgusted at how quickly people stick their tongues out to “baaa” and lick at the asses of the sheep in front of them.  I guess some people are content with that but I don’t think I get it.  I don’t think I ever will.  I don’t think I want to. 

And to close?  The clincher:  one of the greatest … ha ha … ahem, and most powerful men … he he… of our time, seen here with his nose smelling like sheep arse. 


‘Nuff said, right? 

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I am such a bad blogger!  Nary a word since that little pickle incident (which still rings true, by the way).  I would apologize but that would imply that I think there is a host of people out there that actually care about the random crap that rattles off my keyboard, and … well… I am a little more in touch than that. 

Speaking of pickles, I happen to like the random thought idea so I may start a bit of a series.  They’re quick and not time consuming so very fitting for work.  I’ll try a few more.  We’ll see. 

I will post a picture of the new hobby room on the weekend.  It isn’t purple.  In true Martell style, I got it about 95% done and haven’t been back to it since.  This weekend is going to be a rainy one so it will be calling, “Finish me!  Finish me!”.  Sometimes it’s loud and a little obnoxious so I can’t ignore it. 

For today, I will write about noses.  In particular, those that honk. 

We all know one. 

This particular idea comes to me from a nearby co-worker who seems to either have year-round allergy issues or a cold that has permanently lodged itself in his sinuses.  More than once a day, he starts on these sneezing fits where the sneezees come five or six at a time.  I know what you’re thinking… “That’s impossible!  No one sneezes more than three times in a row!” …well I am here to burst your sneezing bubble and tell you that is simply not true.  I’ve seen it.  I know. 

Here I will only briefly mention that the sneezes themselves are very loud.  All of them.  I’m talkin’ rattle-the-foundation, knee-to-the-groin, rosie-o’donnell-on-uppers loud.  If you don’t see them coming, you would swear the building is falling down around you when they start. 

But that is not the reason for this post. 

In between all of these sneezes, naturally, he blows honks his nose.  Loudly.  Short, blasting honks as he bends his nose from one side to the other, wiping each nostril I suppose.  And then he sneezes again.  Honk.  Honk.  Honk.  Sneeze.  You get the picture.  Sometimes the honking comes without the sneezing and includes longer, lasting blasts.  Just as loud, mind you, but longer than the more common short honks. 

Now, let me make it clear that I’m not making fun.  Everyone has to blow their nose at some point.  I prefer to blow in front of a mirror so no soldiers run amok and sit outside the battle lines where they don’t belong.  I like not having to question whether everything is okay on the nose front.  But I had a high school classmate that would go to the garbage can and blow her nose for a full three minutes… at the front of the class! 

No, I’m not poking fun.  To each their own. 

I think the word I would use to describe my feelings about honkers is ‘wonder’. 

I wonder… how does one even produce that noise using only their nose?  Can he blow his nose without honking or is that just the way it is for him?  Is it genetics?  The shape of his nose?  The way he blows his nose? 

I wonder if my nose will make that noise?  I don’t think it will.  Admittedly, I’ve never sat around trying to honk my nose (and I’m not likely to start including that in my Friday night activities), but I do wonder. 

And then I wonder, were people with honking noses the inspiration for the Honkers on Sesame Street?  Their noses honked when you squeezed them. 

I wonder if he does it for attention.  He is a little that way.  Maybe, as a child who was always seeking attention, he noticed that people looked sideways when a loud noise came out of his nose. 

I don’t know.  It baffles me, really.  It’s not that I want a honking nose.  I don’t.  I’m just curious about the whole thing.  Does anyone out there have a honker?  Can you not honk when you blow or is that just not an option?  I really want to know. 

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It is just one of those days for me!  I am in a funk that has me in a head lock and I just can’t break free. 

It started with my bathroom being cold this morning.  We have heated tile on the floor but it hasn’t worked right since daylight savings time and makes for a chilly journey into and out of the shower. 

And then I looked out my bathroom window and saw this: 



I have a h.u.g.e. zit very near the corner of my mouth that has enough real estate to accommodate a small community.  I promised myself (promised) that I would let this one run its course but almost a week later it is holding on like Brittany Spears to her career.  I’m really hoping it does a Kevin Federline and fades and dies real soon (and weren’t we all glad for that). 

Today I made it to the gym but  my heart wasn’t in it so it was lame.  I went through the motions and even worked up a bit of a sweat but it just wasn’t satisfying because I couldn’t get excited about it.  On top of that, I felt really fat while lifting weights in the mirror which only demotivated me more. 

I have very little patience for mundane conversation today, especially when it’s interrupting my lunch (how rude!).  People’s little quirks are really pissing on my leg today … the speed talker, the interrupter, the butt-into-every-conversation guy, the know-everything guy.  Oh wait… two of those were the same guy.  Anyway, they are all so much on my nerves today that they must feel the sting from my gaze.  And yet, sadly, they don’t and just Keep… On… Talking. 

Maybe I need to take up kickboxing.  Or voodoo. 

Okay, so I’m all over the place today.  I get it. 

I mentioned the other day that I’m on new medication.  It is Champix.  That’s right, I’m quitting smoking as of Monday, November 12th.  I honest-to-goodness have it circled in red on my calendar at work.  I’m keen, I’m excited, I’m very hopeful, and have lots of faith that this will happen this time.  So it has to, right? 

Anyway, I was going to start a second blog to chronicle the daily struggle of a quitter but then realized that if I update a second blog daily, this one will suffer.  So I might as well do it all in one spot.  Lucky you … you get to listen to my nicotine-deprived rantings every day! 

The most common side effects of Champix are nausea, headache, insomnia, and more vivid or more frequent dreaming.  Check, check, check, and double-check.  (I really just didn’t stand a chance today, did I?). 

Last night I dreamt that I was potato picking with my sister for a friend of ours who, in real life, owns a hardware store.  There were two rounds to this potato picking.  After the first, I wasn’t allowed back in because I was so bad at it the first time.  I cried and cried.  God knows what sounds I made in my sleep.  When I did sleep. 

Anyway, my foul mood reminds me of this video that went around a few years ago.  Enjoy! 


Edit to add that, on a brighter note, the Canadian dollar is up to $1.10 today… it’s worth more now than it ever has in history.  I’m goin’ shoppin’ on the weekend! 

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How did YOU get here?

After reading an entry by Joe a while ago, I started keeping an eye on the search engine terms that people use to get to my blog. 

Some comments: 

  • There are a surprising number of people out there looking for a donair sauce recipe. 
  • And, apparently, a fair number of people curious about laughing gas. 
  • There are also a fair number of people searching for the rapper Nelly that stumble across pictures of my chocolate lab.  Hey, she is much cuter. 
  • To the person that searched for ‘virgin kayak’ … I’m sorry you were disappointed. 

Today is a high point in my humble blog-dom… I am on the Blog Watch section of CBC’s site for my response to the swearing article.  Really, I am!  Check it out! 

Okay, so it’s no big deal.  But my mom will still be proud…

Oct. 25th EDIT to add:  I also apologize for the disappointment that the person who searched for ‘deep hole’ must have felt when they stumbled across my site. 

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Maybe it’s too early but coming up with a topic seems to be difficult today.  Here are just some random things …

  • I hate commercials that have kids acting as adults because it feels like overrdone, cop-out marketing. 
  • I hate commercials that have people acting as cats.  You know who you are…
  • And while we’re on the topic, I think that there should be a limit on either the amount of time a commercial plays (e.g. a month) or the number of times a station can play it. 
  • I love olives and avocados and couldn’t care less how much fat content is in them.
  • I need to train my dogs better, especially Maggie.
  • I am a smoker and a vegetarian.  I realize that these conflict each other but don’t care.  I hate when people point that out to me. 
  • Sometimes I get a craving for fresh brook trout fried up in cornmeal.
  • I really want to quit smoking but don’t know how to go about it.  After 10 years, I feel like I am losing a part of myself by quitting.  The social aspect of smoking is what holds me; I know I can beat the physical addiction. 
  • Some days I wish I could quit my job and teach piano full time. 
  • I have no patience for slow drivers, especially when they are talking on cell phones. 
  • I enjoyed planning my wedding so much, I considered becoming a wedding consultant. 
  • As much as I love my small town, some days I wish I lived in a big, anonymous city.  And sometimes I wish I lived up north, far from civilization.   
  • I love chips but don’t think that meat flavors belong on them (e.g. Chicken and Gravy). 
  • I don’t like talking on the phone. 
  • I love Huey Lewis and the News and hold no shame about it.
  • Sometimes I worry that I won’t be able to get pregnant. 
  • I don’t like the way the internet and texting is changing the english language and worry about my kids’ chances at learning it properly.  I hate run-on paragraphs, bad grammar, and bad spelling and just stop reading when I encounter it. 
  • I think about my own grammar and spelling and realize that I use the ellipsis far too much…
  • I don’t drink enough milk.  Or water. 
  • I am annoyed that fast food joints put meat in all of their salads. 
  • And finally, I love Fridays 🙂

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