First Night In The New Condo

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…it was the night I realized my cat is a master at war time sleep deprivation techniques. Where he learned this, I have no idea. He’s sneaky that way.

As mentioned in my previous post, moving during a pandemic sucks big time.  I had finally walked in for the night at around 11:30 p.m.  The kitties were in hiding in the bedroom closet and I was able to slowly coax them out by laying the box spring and the mattress on the floor.  Assembling the headboard and foot-board would have to wait until the morning.

I found the sheets and pillows and was ready to settle in for the night.  In the dark, I heard movement from the closet.  My little furballs were starting to feel safe enough to come out.   Angus McKitten quickly claimed his spot at the foot of the bed.  Pacino, though, made my life a living hell from midnight to 4:00 a.m.

How so? How can one little cat have such a profound effect on my sense of sanity?  Glad you asked.  It went something like this, and I quote; “meow? meow? meow. MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW…….MEEEEOOOOOOWWWW MEOW MEOW.”

All. Fucking. Night.

I got out of bed, picked him up and walked around the condo with him in my arms as one would an inconsolable infant. He wanted to be picked up, then he wanted to be put down. Make your mind up, you bi-polar fuzzball.

Each time I was on the brink of falling asleep, it would start again.  MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW. At one point I yelled “Pacino! Shut the fuck up!” Seriously? Yelling at a cat. Nice.  Here’s how exhausted and desperate I was for some sleep…..the thought of choking my beloved little booper actually sounded like a viable option. My brain on no sleep is a dark, dark place my friends.

I think even he got fed up of his antics and finally conceded to knock it off.  He usually sleeps at the foot of the bed with Angus. Not tonight.  He instead crawled right under the covers and I basically spooned the freaking cat all night. He was trembling, poor thing.

We all finally fell asleep and in the morning, I woke up, startled.  Where is he? Then I remembered he was right there, next to me.  He wasn’t moving and i thought…oh crap. Did he die? Maybe his little kitty heart gave out.  This is all my fault. I’m a cat killer. I never should have moved.  Look at what I did to these poor animals. I hate this place. The cats hate it. I should have stayed in renter’s hell, where I belong.  Who am  I fooling?  I’m no home owner.  What have I done?  I want my mommy! Waaaahhhh…!

My mom had called at about 8:00 a.m. to see how the move went. I was still in bed, hiding under the covers. That’s when the buyer’s remorse made its grand entrance. If it could talk, it would have said something like this; “Here ye, here ye. I have an announcement, people. I hereby proclaim that Chrissie B has made a monumental faux pas.  I speak on behalf of her feline companions when I say that it would have been a far better choice for all involved to have stayed in aforementioned renter’s hell and have her throw her money away until the day she retires…nay! until the day she dies, rather than make a sound investment choice.  Clearly her cats are miserable with the extra square footage and overall better quality of life!  I sentence her to public flogging in the town square!”

My mom’s reaction was….”uhm, dear, I really think you’re just over tired and stressed.  This has been a lot to do, all by yourself. Get some rest and I’ll call you later.”

She was right.  Best. Decision. Ever.  Oh, and the kitties are happy too, little shits that they are.

This guy…..good thing he’s cute.

Photography

via Photography

Home Ownership During A Pandemic

Hey Peeps and Peep-ettes! I hope all of you are safe and sound at home during these crazy times we are living.

I have been away much longer than intended. The reason is….I just purchased my very first home ever. Yep, I finally did it!

Moving during a pandemic is a GREAT idea. Said nobody. Ever.   As a general rule, I don’t move well.  I always underestimate the amount of boxes needed, stay up way too late the week leading up to the actual move, don’t eat much and don’t drink near enough water during the whole process.   Throw in self isolation due to a global pandemic that is wreaking havoc around the world and you’ve got yourself the perfect storm.

To say this move was stressful is the understatement of a lifetime.  Deadlines to the notary’s office was pushed up, pushed back, rescheduled on a dime.  Moving companies flip flopped back and forth…yes they can move me, no they can’t, yes they can but nobody but me is allowed in my own home during my move. Okay….

Then of course, there’s the furniture stores.  Luckily  I had prepaid my new appliances before this crazy virus hit the scene.  They flip flopped back and forth as well. Yes we will deliver. No we won’t. Yes we will, but we can’t come in to your house.  Uhm…what the hell?  Am I supposed to carry a fridge on my back up two flights of stairs?

They confirmed that they will bring it up to my floor, but can’t come in.  That was a relief.  Or was it? Yes, they showed up. Yes they came up to the 2nd floor. They also left all the appliances directly in front of the other 3 units.  The would not budge to at least push the darned things across the threshold.

Rational behavior exit left. Once they vamoosed, I sat on the floor and cried a little. I can handle a lot, but enough was enough.  I had officially hit the wall due to exhaustion (I will write about how WONDERFUL my first night was due to a freaked out kitty cat), thirst, hunger, adrenaline, uncertainty, buyer’s remorse.

I had no choice but to call my son to make the drive over the bridge and come help me get these blasted appliances in.  We did it, but at the expense of his already sprained back.

My two weeks’ vacation was meant to be spent poking around in the furniture stores, taking my time to buy new living room and dining room furniture.  So much for that.

Big picture….the move is done, I still have my job, I live in a nice area, I have friends close by, my family is healthy and so am I (as far as I know).  This too shall pass.

I will do my best to be patient and remind myself that this is not a sprint.  I have all the time in the world to shop and decorate and paint.  I just have to enjoy the process at the pace it allows.

Last Saturday night I was out on the deck, assembling my patio furniture, drill in hand, when I looked up and realized…this is mine. No landlords. I finally own property. I never thought this would happen. The best part? I did it all by myself.

Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.

 

 

I Hate People

Except for you, of course, dearest reader. Sigh….I don’t know what’s going on with me. I feel absolutely overwhelmed by the lack of common sense, entitlement and sheer fucking stupidity out there today.

I’m the type where I just want to mind my business and live a quiet life. But no.  There’s always that one asshole that always seems to find me.

I was driving back home yesterday afternoon when I stopped at a red light.  Just prior to me stopping, I noticed some man on the corner, whom I thought had been attempting to cross the street, but then seemed to change his mind.  Either way, get the hell off the road, buddy. Either you’re crossing or you’re not.

Moments later, I turn to see his big mug on the passenger side of my car, tapping on my window, asking me to roll down the window.  He startled me.  I turned down the radio and stared at him.  “What do you want?”.  He kept tapping on the window, asking me to roll it down if I wanted him to talk to me.

Joke is on you, weirdo.  You’re ASSUMING a lot.  I don’t want to talk to you.  I told him to speak, I can hear him just fine.

Did I mention my purse was on the passenger seat in plain view? Yeah, sure, let me open the window so you can take off with it. “No.” was my response.

This is what gets me…he then gets annoyed that I won’t do as he commands.  On what planet does that work for you buddy?  Newsflash – I’m a woman, driving alone, there’s a pandemic, you’re a stranger, my purse is on the seat in plain view. Oh and I don’t have shit for brains, thank you very much!

What is with people getting all handsy on other people’s vehicles these days.  I can’t keep track of how many pedestrians have tap-tap-tapped the hood of my car because I am a fraction of an inch over the cross line.  Cars can’t stop on a dime.  Get a clue.  Or maybe stop just walking into oncoming traffic in the middle of the night, wearing black, because there’s a couple of yellow lines painted across the road!

It’s only Monday, but I have already had my fill of morons.  There’s more to tell, but will keep it for another post, maybe tomorrow.

 

 

 

It’s Over

It’s over, and I’m kind of sad.  It was a wonderful way to pass the time, but all good things come to an end.  It had twists and turns and so much drama.  There’s nothing left.

I’m not talking about the end of a relationship.  I’m talking about the end of something I’ve been immersing myself in  – old t.v. series from ages ago that I have reintroduced myself to.

Do you remember watching “Desperate Housewives”?  If you are too young to remember this, I highly recommend it.  It streams on Amazon Prime.  Last weekend I watched the final episode of Season 8.

As far as endings go, it wasn’t too bad.  The one thing that drove me completely bonkers is how some of the main antagonists just disappeared and were never heard from again. What happened to Kayla Scavo?  When and how did Orson Hodge kill himself? How and when did Paul Young die? What happened to Susan’s beau who got deported? What did Julie end up naming her baby?  Did Porter keep up his end of the bargain and help with the baby?  So many questions, no answers to be had. Ever.

Speaking of Susan ..does it make me a bad person that every time something bad happened to her, I was happy.  That broad got on my last nerves. So much drama, so self centered.  Such a willing victim.  What she needed was a good punch in the throat.  If I were her neighbor, I would have handed her her ass a looooong time ago and tell her to stop whining and crying over every little thing.  I would have been the “dangerous housewife”. Ha.

Some of the story lines were actually pretty good, but accountability was ZERO for the housewives.  There was always someone swooping in to save the day.

Set someone’s house on fire in a fit of jealous rage?  No problem! Bury someone in your backyard? Pfft…child’s play.  So long as we gals stick together, the world is a wonderful place where we remain beautiful and live happily ever after.  We live in big houses and get married over and over again. Life’s grand!

 

 

Monday Weigh-in

Hola!  So I just did my first official day of Keto and guess what?  I didn’t curl up in a little ball and die.  I was able to have my coffee with one less sugar than usual.  I had been prepping all weekend and cutting down on the carbs, and when I stepped on the scale this morning…..191.8!

Yah I know, water weight, but I’ll take it!  I stayed far away from the snack drawers at work.  I did not have one piece of chocolate, granola bar, chips, pretzels or soda.

I made myself some Asian beef lettuce cups for dinner. No rice, no sides.  I’d say Day 1 was a success!

I’ll Pass, Thanks.

Happy Sunday my friends!  I’m up bright and early to continue the never ending task of packing my boxes for my move.  In only four short weeks, I’ll be saying “sayanora” to my little flat and will be an official home owner.

Anyway, let’s get back to the real reason I’m on here this morning. I got an invite yesterday to go see the musical, Cats, at Place des Arts on the 21st of March.  The invite came from a guy I had chatted with on a FB singles group. We have never met in person, but have shared a couple chuckles and are FB friends (I left that dreadful single’s group ages ago).

I hadn’t chatted with him in a while and sent him a “hey, what’s new?” message the other day.  Seems he is newly single again after a year long hiatus from the land of the lonely hearts.  He apparently is giving up on the whole dating scene.  I told him that was silly, to just take a break and focus on himself.  Being single is a wonderful opportunity to reinvent yourself, try new things, get in shape, revamp your look, etc.  He had one excuse after another.  He hates going out alone, it’s boring. He has tried every dating site under the sun – they are all the same (I tend to agree on this one), blah blah blah.

I digress..the invite.  At first I was “oh hell yeah, I’ll go”, but then a little red flag popped up.  When I asked how much the ticket was, he said it was free.  He had purchased them ages ago.  I could buy dinner and we could call it even. Payment would be the pleasure of my company. He’s been wanting to meet me forever and it just never happened.

So now I don’t want to go. First, I’m not attracted to him in the slightest, and have concerns that he might think this is a date.  Dinner? Please…until I’m sure you don’t eat with your mouth open and blow your nose at the table, it’s just not on the agenda.

Second, and most importantly, I remembered why I stopped chatting with him.  He’s the male version of a Negative Nelly.  A while back, when I first told him I was on the market to buy my very first home ever, this is what he said:

Gee whiz Skippy, do you have a time machine that I can jump into and take me back to when I was “young”?

If that wasn’t enough, here was his unsolicited opinion on my travelling to Italy by myself:

Asshole. If you can’t be happy for someone, just shut up.  What am I going to do in ITALY by myself?  Is that even a real question? It’s Italy, moron. Europe, culture, beauty, food, architecture, joie de vivre. Try to think outside of your pre-packaged all inclusive vacation in Cuba or Mexico. Hell’s bells…

So, ya, I’m going to pass on spending an evening with this dud. He’s not doing me any favors.  I can buy my own ticket if I want to go, thank you very much.

Keto Here We Go!

Hola mes amis!  Ha, a little Spanish and French for you today!  So as much as I nixed this trend, it’s time to give it a try.

A couple weeks ago I wrote about getting back to basic and then fell off the radar. Sorry?

Ok, accountability here we go. My weight is currently….drumroll please…193 pounds. I’m only 5’2″, so it really is not ideal at all. I’m torn…should I post pics or not?  I’m mortified at the thought.  Give me your opinion and I’ll consider it.  I’ll keep taking pics, but might hold off and post at a later date.

I tend to go overboard at first and then fail miserably.  A friend who is on keto and has dropped 4 pant sizes has chatted me up about the dets and has advised me to take it one step at a time. Good advice. So, off I go with my little grocery list in hand of do’s and don’ts of what to buy.

Want to know what my biggest challenge will be?  My coffee.  I absolutely love my coffee with two cream, two sugar. I just cannot see myself drinking….egads….black coffee.

So, my challenge this week will be to very gradually cut down on the sugar.  I will still have my two creams, but only 1 packet of sugar.  Let’s see how that goes for the first week.  If you see me on the floor, arms and legs flailing, frothing at the mouth, be kind and don’t judge.

Potatoes, rice and pasta…goodbye for now my friends.  Although, rice, you’ve been replaced by my new mistress.  Her name is cauliflower rice and she is awesome.  Potatoes, I will only really miss the sweet version of you. However, I’m so pressed for time lately and let’s be honest – lazy, that peeling and preparing you will go unnoticed.

Bread….yeah, you’re going to be a tough one to let go of.  So, you are not welcomed in my grocery basket.  Sorry…

Ok y’all, enjoy your weekend and I will check back in soon!

The Point of No Return

I’d like to post a disclaimer – you will see just how much of a bitch I can be.  I seem to be on a “everyone is an idiot and I’m going to complain as much as I can” rant.

A couple weekends ago, we got some sad news from our pastor.  The 18 year old son of a couple at church ended his life on Saturday.  It sent shock waves through the church.  How can this happen to a family that is so devout?  If their faith was so strong, why did this young man chose to leave this world so early and cause so much pain to his parents?

What really surprised me is that although their son took his life on Saturday, the whole family was in church the following day, in their usual spot, like all was normal. I nearly gave myself whiplash when I saw them there. I don’t know how they mustered the energy and courage to leave the house so soon. Maybe it was the need to not be in the space where the boy had ended his life?

Needless to say, we didn’t have our usual service.  Our pastor did his best to show support to this grieving family. The whole congregation sang louder and with more conviction than usual.

Of course, there was weirdness.  People were asked to stand and offer prayer. Some did. Others did things that were cringe worthy.  One guy half prayed/half sang….ok..

The resident gay guy (yes you read that correctly – he’s been praying the gay away) ran around the church passing out hugs to a very select crowd. Yup, the sucking up was on like donkey kong.

That was just the beginning of the weirdness though. During the course of the week, members of the congregation would stop by to check on them..ok, people were pretty much there almost 24/7.

People would be writing messages to the deceased and quoting scripture. He’s gone, folks, he can’t read this stuff.

Then there were the pictures posted all over social medial. Pictures of them in mourning, sitting together reading scripture, of the mother lying on the bed, trying to rest, and people on there with her, starting a pillow fight, laughing.  They even had pics of the birthday party for the deceased, only he wasn’t there.

One woman, whom although is not malicious, is a nitwit, lifted and re-posted something from her son’s social media.  Apparently her son is kind of jealous, because the deceased boy is now with Jesus….

If I were her, I would be concerned that the teens are going to attempt the same, and not playing “who loves Jesus most”.

Someone started a Go Fund Me page to raise $20,000. to have the boy buried back int he U.S.A., next to his grandfather.  I have no words.

Then the actual funeral service. That was streamed – all 3.5 hours of it.  They talked about how he ended his life (hung himself in the garage over night).  I stopped watching at that point.  Apparently they had one of the siblings read the suicide note.

A friend told me that at one point, the youth pastor and his sidekicks donned “counsellor” t-shirts. You know, to show they are…mental health professionals?  Try again.

I’ve been watching this from a distance and have been forming my own opinions.  Maybe it’s the time of the year; I tend to get a little cynical and loopie from lack of sunshine and a long harsh Winter.  I think these folks are mostly all weird.

I find that there has been shameless showboating at the expense of this young man. Not only that, but the rest of the congregations has had to basically be put completely on hold, as if their lives do not matter.

As much as I like my pastor, I think I’m done with this church. I will be moving in 4 weeks and can’t see myself making the treck across the bridge every Sunday for a 4pm service, then all the way back.

I’ve been feeling this way for a while now.  Unfortunately, I’m very much “familiarity breeds contempt” type of person.  Perhaps this was just the excuse I needed to make the decision.

All to say, I would love to find a church where this type of weirdness is not habitual.  A place where people are real.  My pastor once summed it up perfectly, “just because you call yourself a Christian doesn’t mean you check your brains at the door”.  That has always stayed with me, yet the congregation is full of deer caught in the headlight types.

I understand why so many have a distaste for folks who are believers, based solely on how they act.

 

 

 

 

Back To Basics

Happy Saturday, all! Today’s post is all about the reason I started this blog in the first place.

I had reached a point in my life where I could not stand looking in the mirror anymore. The numbers on the scale kept slowly climbing with each passing year.  A turning point was when I took a full length photo of myself in what used to be a cute little pink bikini.  Flash forward a couple years and I now looked like a cured ham in it.  Not the most attractive of looks.

My blog is not solely about a weight loss journey, it’s about everything in between. Life sometimes gets in the way of goals when it comes to healthy living, and my posts have mostly been about that.  Now, though, I have to seriously focus on losing at least 50 pounds.  I saw a picture of myself at our recent company retreat and I swear, you could use the space between my double chin as a really good spot for hide and seek. Nobody would ever find you.

I did lose a bit, then gained it back. Lather, rinse, repeat. Now I’m back to the place where looking in the mirror hurts.  I avert my eyes and never want to have my picture taken. Nobody needs to fat shame me; I’m doing it myself.

So here we go, accountability kicks in as of today.  I will post my weight on Tuesday mornings (Mondays are way too hectic) and will continue to do so until I have lost a total of 50 pounds.

What’s different this time around? My friend signed me up for an X-Man race at the end of May.  I cannot even think of how humiliating it will be if I can’t do the simplest of tasks because I’m too out of breath or heavy.

I’m going to do my very best to get some sort of physical activity in every single day.  Going to the gym 7 days a week is not an option for me.  Life is meant to be lived and not chained to the treadmill.

On the agenda today: shovelling!  We had a total of 50 cm of snow fall since the wee hours of Friday morning and my car is barely visible.  Next, I will go to Mont St-Hilaire for some snowshoeing.

Enjoy the day!