Random...

Last night when I took off my bra, a potato chip fell out (which I may or may not have eaten) Just kidding.  Not really. I think the most horrifying part is that I can't remember the last time I ate chips. I really need to pull my shit together and as my mother frequently reminds me, "start brushing your hair."

I'm in the homestretch of being able to finally walk again and I cannot fucking wait. I think it's safe to say that my level of excitement is comparable to eating a bacon wrapped hot dog when I was 12 and found out Joey Lawrence was doing an appearance at the Markville Town Centre by my house...like the Jizz.In.My.Pants kind of  excitement. For those who are struggling to remember who he is...I've uploaded a treat for the eyes. Who doesn't love a man that opts out of wearing a shirt, but insists on wearing a jacket? From this pic I'm thinking my chest may have more hair than his.

I vividly recall the moment I found out that Mr.Joey Lawrence was coming to town and I made my Mom rush me over to Northern Reflections to get my newest pimped out outfit. After all, this was gonna be the outfit I'd be getting engaged in. (For my American friends reading this, Northern Reflections was a cutting edge Canadian retailer that loved putting pictures of ducks, cats and old farmhouses on sweaters....so essentially outfitting the general public to look like assholes.) At the time, I thought it was pretty bad-ass though. I mean c'mon, the only way I was gonna get Joey Lawrence to put a ring on it was by luring him in with an awesome duck sweater. Makes sense... non?

And just when I thought I could never have room in my heart to love another man more than Joey Lawrence at the tender age of 12, my Dad went and hired the hottest 21 year old apprentice to work for him. His name was Jeff and Jeff was a God-he was quite possibly the dumbest person on earth but he was great to look at.  Anytime he would pull his truck in our driveway, I would get instantaneous upper lip sweat and my neck would start to twitch as I lurked through the blinds of our front window. (Please see the definition of 'creepy' to understand the full extent of my childhood lurking behaviour.) He would come in and have a beer with my Dad after work and you better believe I made sure that my side ponytail looked fierce and my leg hair was combed. Actually, Jeff was the real reason I started masturbating shaving. I once overheard him make a comment about a girl he dated who had the hairiest arms...well did I not lock myself in my bedroom with my mom's electric razor and shaved my entire body a few days later? Yup. NO JOKE.

I wasn't planning on writing a ramble this weekend and I don't even know if it made any sense at all...I'm all over the map and I'm actually suffering from another doozy of a hangover. Can you hear the tiny violin playing in the background? Don't you feel sorry for me? I just started writing tonight as one of the other 9 million activities I'm using as a distraction from cleaning out the cupboard in my kitchen.

The average civilian keeps pots and pans in their cupboards and in my opinion they aren't necessary kitchen staples...I get by just fine with a plate, a fork, a cheese grader and a corkscrew. The truth is I use cupboards for hoarding wine bottles. It's gotten to the point where I'm just too embarrassed to bring them out to the trash.
*ALERT-for any family member who is in the midst of organizing my intervention, I don't drink alone and I haven't been able to carry them down on my own with one leg. Whomp. Whomp.

I must say though, every time I wheel by this cupboard I do hear the voice of Jeff VanVonderen from A&E's  Intervention. "We've got a bunch of people in this room that love you like crazy, but they ain't gonna love you to death anymore." I gotta pull it together.

I'm out.
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