That charming gal, Val, had a great post about men she is oddly attracted to and it inspired me. As well as remind me of all the times I have swooned to Meowers about some dude with a social profile and his beguiling attractiveness that she interupts me to exclaim; really C?!?

What can I say? I am an enigma wrapped in a riddle with a touch of simile. God bless her she totally accepts my little quirks. Same goes for my regular crushes, attractions, associations and exes. That illustrious group of idiots that have already come and gone. Literally. Such winners include but not exclusive to;

Case in Point 1; He has no job or grip on reality…of course I slept with him.

Example B; He is terrified I will fall in love with him and become emotionally shattered once he leaves so he just ignores me. Seemingly to protect me. He said he likes girls with a big meaty butt and mine is kind of bony so then I said – well you’re going bald so we can’t win them all.

Dopey # Trois; You are the fourth person to tell me today I am a better catch than the wife so thanks but he doesn’t have the set to leave her.

I’m Not Joking # iiii; For half an hour he told me about how hates when a date orders a pasta dish in restaurants because pasta is so inexpensive to make that it’s not worth the price of dining out on such dish. Because water is free and hydro so cheap…he also tipped the waitress 5% which I fixed while he was chatting up another girl in the bathroom line.

I also have rather varied and odd array of specific physical attractions: dark jeans cuffers, vintage/quirky belt wearers, pickup truck driving, good leather squared but pointy shoe wearers, nose frecklers, traditionally tailored suit wearers, cursive writing tattooed (bonus point for back/side of neck placement), aviator sunglasses wearers, blonde guys with maybe a two-day scuff, ballcap and/or panama hat wearers, big headphone wearers, somewhat athletic body but NOT a jock, a good head of hair and darker gingers with blue eyes.

Also adore guys who dress in a particular style (biker chic) but turn out to be concert pianists. Versatility. Is. So. Awesome.

Keanu – contrary to specific reports I do believe this good sir to be quite cerebral. Oh sure, he’s made some questionable career choices but havent’ we all? Hockey playing, was in a somewhat successful band, rides motorcycles and is a hopeless romantic from my research (articles given to me by friends, not stalking) and prefers to live the quiet life. Hair! Great hair! Swoonies.

Slash – Soooooooo sooooooooo talented, worldy but one of those rough and tumble guys who swears, drinks and smokes. Good and bad tattoos yes but they’re on Slash so totes acceptable and his chosen musical craft is incredibly versatile. Not many can say they’ve played with Michael Jackson, Lenny Kravitz and T-Pain and taken all in stride and added to the end product. Great biography about him by the way too, totally recommend it.

Val Kilmer – not even Top Gun Kilmer, no no, current Kilmer, the puffy one. Oh yeah almost as intense as the double rainbow. Here comes the talent thing again, versatility, once upon a time was going to run for governer…total daddy/power/lust complex, I know, but our boy Val is just hot. I found him attractive playing Jim Morrison but prefer him fat and middle aged with that voice with the hint of drawl.

Samberg – big nose, comedic genius, fantastic head of insane hair, awesome stuff. His creativity and cleverness is impressive yet approachable. I adore his weird squished up ultra expressive facial action. He’s a little bit hipster but not too much and isn’t afraid to laugh at himself but in the same breath act very serious about wearing fingerless gloves. Point Andy!

Gary Sinise – hello Lieutenant Dan. Oh yeah, even playing a washed up alcoholic I was swooning hardcore. I think it’s the eyes and the voice…i’ll even catch a CSI New York just to check out his majesty. I like an older man and this one gets me just fine. Plus, he totally plays in a band…hot.

Pharrell – I am so totally not hip enough to date him but I find his skate shoe wearing, Louis Vuitton shilling, beat machine-ing so attractive I can barely contain myself. He BMX bikes, designs and creates, creating is incredibly sexy to me. I create so to understand the process and watch someone else do it is on my top five list of things to drool about and/or provide lust filled inspiration.

I have to go be alone now…ahem.

I think I am so relaxed on vacation that I actually just flop my limbs around causing all sorts of injury. However the brunt of my gracelessness seems to be concentrated in one area.

In fact, I have a subliminal vendetta against my right foot, ankle down.

Last week I subjected it to: baby gate (for the kittens) ninja-move turned vertically, gaining speed down the staircase and smashing in to just above my ankle, hitting the bone. Then mere hours later two, yes, two, hornet stings on back of right ankle. While obtaining medication for said stings…giant value sized bottle of lotion falls directly on my right foot. Mere minutes later I open the freezer to get an ice pack…ice cream falls on foot. Somewhat directly where all the blood had converged to attempt to heal the lotion bottle fiasco.

To make matters quite significantly worse in the one specific area of my body last night I severly stubbed/pulled back the baby toe on my right foot. It’s not pretty, the little guy is mangled and resists all pressure and normal usage. Mother seems to think it’s not broken but I’m pretty positive that your baby toe is not meant to; firstly be black and blue, secondly the diameter of your big toe and lastly, refuse to move when I ask the ol’ brain to get on that.

Upon awakening this morning Dr. Motherbomb confirmed of the breakage…and is threatening to tape it to it’s little buddy beside it. Eep. There aren’t enough ice packs to chill out this little guy right now.

I love you right foot, I swears.

Bloggin from Babylon.

Weekend was sooooo good, photo essay on its way. I could not have asked for better weather during my downtime and I am continually surrounded by lovely people. Drop ins, (sometimes) love them. I was talking to Juniper today and shared my diabolical plan to relocate everyone I love and/or find worthy near me so we can bask in oxygen and inspiration up here.

See? I’m all dreamy streamy. Call me passionate, call me dramatic whatevs.

I would go as far as to say fiery. A cellmate,nay, fellow resident, of the seniors facility, of Babas actually complimented me on my spark a little while ago. Observed that perhaps my red hair ‘vas a revlection of ze fire in yourrrr belly’. Well played new elderly friend.

Have a date with a hot (pardon the pun) firefighter tomorrow night…supposed to be one million degrees out and I’ve gained a few pounds in the last couple of weeks. Mother has sooo much food in the fridge at all times and I have been way too lax about my ice cream consumption. In fact, I may have stopped writing this entry at this point and finished off the Marshmallow Chocolate Swirl Little exercise, keywords being ‘may have’. This environment also is not conducive to following dreams…more lounging about like a cat without ambition.

I am the queen of procrastination but a voracious dreamer. How does one have both those attributes?

Tomorrow I think I will rent a house and worry about the roommate situation another day. Just want to get settled in, started on my big plans I start work full-time again next Tuesday, concentration and brain function must return! Hear that normal brain function? Get on your game pal because we are actually going to have to think logically and all business like again after a three week hiatus.

Tough call that one.

OMG…do you have any idea how funny this is?

Procrastinating has never been done better than by yours truly these last few days.

As much as I intend to one day strive to be without set schedule (must be in office from 9-5, Monday to Friday) I assume everyone does need some semblance of time management organization, with the self discipline aspect in check as well. I am not good at this type of thing, such a pushover with myself. Myself is such a scamp I let her get away with everything.

Where was this advice last week hmmmm?

Late night swims in the pool are what currently is making my heart soar with happiness about my move.

These last few weeks have been going by so quickly and I have been lazing about, napping and wasting time worrying about everything. I have yet to complete the re-packing I have been intending to complete along with the Etsy stuff on my to-do list.  Also, getting ready for the garage sale Motherbomb and I intend to have for the Labour Day weekend. Getting my ass in gear riiigghhhtttt now…

Blushies, why thank you. Aha, lucky rabbits foot? Nah, I have a lucky Tang.

You know.

Baba is here for a few days visiting. Adore when she is around, so intentionally and unintentionally hilarious. She’s super sassy for an old babe and she tells it like it is, yes, I have gained a couple of pounds, thanks for noticing. We were planning on having her two lifelong friends, dating back from Ukraine/WW2 but life happens and that meeting was cancelled. Instead we took her to Walmart and ended all buying cheapo pajamas…

Not a great picture but I was lazy and wasn’t finding and then using the digi cam, blackberry worked just fine for this instance. On sale and super cute, um, guys, glitter Donald Duck? Yes. Please.

Since we were out on the town we asked Baba if perhaps she felt like a little treat for dinner…along the lines of McD’s or Tim Hortons, a universal Baba favourite. She chooses Tim’s, the usual coffee and tea biscuit. While waiting in the lineup of the drive through we ask what kind of tea biscuit she wants and she replies – hamburger. Um…little late for that. Turkey sandwich it is!

New Jams Jams match what my mom’s crew boss pulled out of the disorganized (until yard sale) wreckage that is the small barn. Ah, Ol’ Blue…got everything lubed up and hosed down, tires pumped up. All by myself like one of those nifty adults. Forgot how fun it was to pedal about the countryside however much my ass currently hurts. Meowers goes for many hour long rides around the city and she inspired me, maybe you bring your bike and we pedal together tall beautiful friend?

Ugh, driving. I am going to need to do it daily and I am so not used to this. Loathe driving, so dull and people just do not pay attention. Should be fine however on the quiet and paved, country highways. I used to love driving but after having to commute two hours a day to my second to last job driving and I became mortal enemies. Hopefully in the next week I will be able to secure a roommate for the cute little renovated house I found to rent in Uxbridge and therefore eliminate the fifteen minute commute each way.

House is right beside the Beer Store…prime man-fishing territory up north.

I heard from someone very unexpectedly last week and I kind of don’t know what to make of it. Whatever, we’re grown ups now just stay on my good side.

Due to your Bomb having HUGE, monstrous and otherwise jaw droppingly awesome near future plans, I am trying to be as fiscally responsible as possible. Therefore I will attempt to dye thine own hair…which I used to always do but it’s been a while and lord knows I could screw this loveliness up. Pray for my follicles, keep them safe. Totally also need to hair mask this business up and badly resist the urge to cut the length severely…just put it up when it annoys you dummy.

Dreamy sigh, Tvaland I are so made for each other. I know I blog about them a lot but seriously there isn’t a product they make, then I purchase that I become obsessed with. In a healthy way. For years I have applied foundation, concealer and bronzer and then used a mineral spray to set everything and grab the dewy look. Well Miss. Fix-it eliminated the need for the mineral spray (which was mass manufactured and likely to contain preservatives) and gets that dewy exactly where it should be. Love it on it’s own and with the makeup. They have one for sleep/relax too…totally adding that to the next order.

I have been going through all my stuff in hopes of reorganizing/repacking everything. A huge task that made me feel slightly overwhelmed. I started to read through a lot of my own journals, essays and short stories. Then I trashed them. Here comes anxiety time, some tears and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Then I puke. (I have always been a barfer, once emotion and anxiety gets ahold of me and my latest snack go bye bye. I used to barf when forced to take a nap as a child…that bad.)

This is why the past is the past and why it should stay there. And also why when you burn the past that you check that the chimney isn`t clogged and you set off every fire alarm at your Mothers house. True story.

Going to stop lamenting the rather pathetic group of admirers/stalkers I have gained from online dating since Carri sent me this link. Could be worse, thanks heavens I am not trying to get laid in 1983.

Mother and I bumbled about the countryside yesterday. Uxbridge, Ajax, Pickering…no stone unturned. I was so impressed with my mother as we stood in a backyard and she sold the homeowner a pool. She was talking to him about grades, retaining walls, cranes, ionizers and construction transits. I wasn’t surprised but I just think it’s neat my mom can ‘man construction’ talk with people. In fact, one of her best attributes as a salesperson is being the one of the only women in the industry.

 Typical Bomb out painting the town red lunch – happy meal.

Um, so who has dropped the ball on this one? By far the creepiest and worst happy meal toy going. Good gravy I have to throw it out…it has those creepy eyes that can blink, open and shut…with the eyelashes. Eeeeeeeeep.

Shopped a bit…two dresses, three shirts for $66 with tax. Not too shabby.

Pants?! Who needs ‘em!?

Not Irish or a Princess.

Cactus flower, again. Once yearly typically and now this is the eighth or ninth blossom gracing us with its presence. Amazing…

Just gave a hot firefighter my phone number…yay!

Need a roommate in Uxbridge, looking at you lovlies for Plan B! Get on that!

Crisis mode: I was all out of deep fried pickles. Not something I am just able to add to the grocery list and wait patiently for Mother to fetch. The pickles are only part of the adventure.

Step one; go to the…

…and stock up on a whole bunch of wonderful edibles (pickles included) and go on your merry way. No wait! Step two; spend the fifty cents on the small bag of feed they sell at the cashiers counter. Why you ask? Ummm…

Excuse the hair, it had rained earlier and my Snooki-pouf was therefore ruined.

Polite and patient Ass.

Slash-esque. I greatly approve.

Tried to get this one in the car with me…no dice.

Things became frenzied quickly.

Those teeth hurt my hand…very difficult to feed the little gal.

 Those eyes can see in the depths of your soul.

Stunning. How beautiful is this animal? I will name her Buttercup, envy her eyelashes and love her for always.

The group at the Trading post is on loan/part owned by the Northwood Zoo in nearby Seagrave which is also an animal rescue/sanctuary. Have not been there as of yet but they have guided night Safari on October 9th, Thanksgiving weekend. Shall we make it outing? Who wants to join me?

Carri shared a great link with me on my Facebook wall…What the Fuck should I do with my life? The Internet is a wonderful thing! Admittedly the first click I made came up a little short (street promotions) but the handy ‘hell no’ button produced something amazing. 

A little background is required, Thursday I went out with Mother to Port Perry and as we were having lunch I was discussing my future plans. My mere relocation is only one of the first steps. Establishing myself in the community and figuring out supply and demand are second steps. Nevertheless as we were discussing the eventual empire something along the lines of the following came up…phase two as it’s known now between Mother and I…

The Internet is psychic. Shhhh, tell no one.

The soldiers of hate need to back it up. Take it from this stupid redhead,enough is enough.

Yesterday was the neighbourhood BBQ and bonfire. My hair still smells like the bonfire and the pork. Attractive. Mother made a roster of cabbage rolls and my contribution was my trademarked FTW cupcakes.

I can butter-cream like no one else. Trust me.

A few weeks ago, after a suggestion from a family member and the marketing geniuses targeting me via television I ended up breaking down and joining a pay dating site. The free site I have been a member of for months was coming up rather barren and I figured maybe some quality men could be found if you paid for them. Kind of similar to you get what you pay for which is also alike a form of Internet/new age dating prostitution type of deal. Wrong-O.

What a joke that whole site is. The process could not be more involved and confusing not to mention once you subscribe you quickly learn all these little ‘bonus features’ like read email notification and the like are actually extra. Cheap extras but still. The whole system was clumsy and confusing and it took me weeks to have my profile put in to effect for some reason. Three emails to customer service without any response. Love the option to tell viewers who ‘wink’ or message you that you are not interested. If it worked.

Deleted profile today, had enough of being depressed at the lame showings, gimme back my $$$ dopes.

I’m a catch I swear. I am domestic yet filthy. Pretty neat combo, references available upon request.

Mother and I, after having two wonderful days with our spiritualist that included midnight swims and incredibly wonderful insight decided to treat ourselves with a little afternoon out in Port Perry.

Hey thanks Angela for being such a good salesperson at Brock’s! Seemingly Angela was the only salesperson interested in assisting us with our shopping needs. I get retail isn’t the most pleasant of circumstances but why did I feel like a bother or perhaps invisible while shopping about? I was actually considering not purchasing anything at all because of this snub however, with Angelas wonderful help, Motherbomb acquired a fantastic new bathing suit and I acquired the following; 

Bait for the corn fed farm-boys I wish to attract. Strapping, truck driving, beer drinking, country fair attending, real men. Good. Gravy!

Lovely day! Just lovely!

For $34.98 you too can have proof of swines rotating the earth. I think I know her…aha.

Lunch at Salvatores!

May Currybomb and Motherbomb please suggest a change in meatball sandwich acroutments Salvatore? Roasted veggies – peppers, eggplant, mushrooms, onions. Olive oil, oregano, a little basil (fresh obvs) and you have a winner.

Mom was right…we did need a latte after this or it would have been carb induced nap time.

OMG, first trip ever to Meta 4 gallery. So much awesome super great sparkly fun nice things happy times. Wanted everything but held back. Basically a cooperative showcasing many artists of different mediums from around the area. Such a fantastic idea and what a great space, could have spent hours there. Glass blowing, want to try it, even lampwork beads could be in the near future but with someone at accident-prone as I? May need EMS standing by, which works out nicely because I have a date with a nice one next week.

Obsessed with dioramas, the detail is unbelievable and the level of patience unimaginable.

Totally would have bought this but I am being fiscally responsible and the above ’Royal Elvis Frog Pitcher’, however lovely, isn’t on the ‘need’ list right now.

Our basement currently looks a lot like this. Note couch scratches.

On to the Nutty Chocolatier. Because on the need list was thirty dollars worth of  candy.

I plan on buying these in bulk and giving them to my new little niece or nephew promptly before I return him or her to his or her parents. Sugar crazed children are fun…for about ten minutes.

OMG, rock candy. I forgot all about you!

Pink Sugar popcorn, nougat for Mother, rock candy in cotton candy and root beer, Jelly Belly in juicy pear, banana, pomegranate and cotton candy and the small pack of gourmet licorice which is amazing. Dark truffle mouse, champagne truffle, Grand Marnier truffle, key lime truffle, cherry cheesecake truffle and some spicy pepper truffle. Lovely but a little pricey to be honest and I am no chocolate connoisseur…I actually like white and that is sometimes considered a big foodie nose snub. Should have gone on instinct and picked up a couple of the Belgian Peanut Butter Cups. Ah, look what is on the need list now!

Um guys, check out Perry Anns for original Currybomb pieces for sale! Anita is a longtime friend of Motherbomb and has so graciously provided for me a retail outlet in which to shill my wares. So do your love a favour and go buy a piece darlings.

Only because I love you so much…

SIDEBOOB!

The reason I am currently not getting the mess around is because I got overzealous when it was recently raining men and I purchased the club pack of condoms. This was the jinx, a cruel trick of the universe. I now need to use these by 2014 and this is seemingly an impossible hurdle at this rate. Irony is my greatest crutch in life. I broke down and messaged some goodness on the dating site even without response to my last reply. Call me desperate, impatient or even brilliant however we all know…tall guys. Worth the climb every time.

I had the strangest dream last night that seemed like it was hours long. Lost on the TTC (Toronto transit) and having to constantly buy a new ticket to get to where I was trying to go, which I don’t recall.

‘To dream that you are in the subway, denotes that you are reaching your goal via unconscious methods. By recognizing the hidden aspects of yourself, you are able to move forward in life.’

Another strange thing, always babies on the counters of the ticket booths.

‘To see a baby in your dream, signifies innocence, warmth and new beginnings. Babies symbolize something in your own inner nature that is pure, vulnerable, helpless and/or uncorrupted. If you find a baby in your dream, then it suggests that you have acknowledged your hidden potential.’

I am so proud of my Foo. Because life is too short to spend it constantly worried and in damage control mode. It’s unhealthy and damages the human spirit. You have to surround yourselves with light, positivity and love, creativity is key as much as stability is. I am proud of you my favourite porter darling!

I adore the sound of someone running a bath or showering when I am still drowsy but cocooned within the bed. Makes me swoon every time.

Before I left the city, my reliant, handy and supportive life partner,  Mr. Visa, and I made an oh-so-worth-it trip to Tval to stock up on goodness. Bobby is in fine form as always…you are a doll, keep on keep on. I am a customer for life, you should be too.

I also took Mr. Visa to the Monster factory where I (finally) met the lovely Dayle. She was integral in securing me a Super Colour Todd, which was originally only available at the one of a kind craft show. Love. Him. How great is this little monster?!? Second best decision of my life so far, Martykat being the obvious first! Also picked up some Harriets for various giftings! Thanks so much Dayle!

Todd, meet Todd. Now go sit on the bed. Hey, thanks.

Could dance to this all day. With Todd. I know how to shake this thing. You remember don’t you?

OMG, Mother made borscht! For those not in the know, you uncultured little swines, borscht is a beet based Ukrainian soup that totally will float your boat.  Pork spareribs and a bay leaf are her secrets, which is more in the Russian tradition. I like mine with full fat sour cream and dill. I have had other borscht (being a good Ukes) and no matter how gourmet the establishment they don’t hold a candle to Mothers. Then again, I am partial.

Good Gravy Currybomb! Lemon Curd and Chocolate Pavlova in one evening, what a sly little chef I am. Happy accident on the aforementioned. I needed to use six egg yolks (after using six egg whites for the Pav) and googled such. What a wonderful world we live in that this is possible.

I hate wasting things. In fact, just today I could not throw out a rather battered and sad looking house plant of mine. Mother said it’s root-bound and needed transplant and knowing my low level of horticulture related patience suggested I compost my own little Charlie Brown tree.

Couldn’t do it. Who am I to garbage a life?

That’s a genetic thing. My maternal grandfather worked in the greenhouse of the University of Toronto many years ago and they were always disposing of ancient and exotic plants once the research was completed. Papa would bring them home and nurture them. One of these rescues is still around, this cactus is at least sixty years old, about six feet tall and for some odd reason has been blooming almost constantly this year. Usually we were lucky to have a single bloom a year until now…