Category Archives: Atheist

MailBoxes

For a part-time job I collate and deliver flyers in the rural route around my house. The compensation is actually much higher than most would assume and the entire cheque goes into my retirement savings plan. Pretty smart eh?

As we all can appreciate, each new opportunity we embark on comes with both, good and bad, challenges. Since I operate approximately 250 mailboxes weekly I feel I am a good judge of character for what’s good and bad about the mailboxes and their owners.

So with that said, let’s talk about mailboxes and their owners. You’re going to be amazed at the variety readily available for any delivery person in a rural route.

Creative.
Some people are creative. I have a snoopy mail box on my route, a Great Dane canine shaped mail box equipped with even a tail and big ears, one that has ‘HI’ in pink lettering, a mailbox with Jesus on the cross, one with hearts all over it and of course business related mailboxes that carry their company name and/or logo. These mailboxes are my favourite. They are clean and I feel safe opening and closing them as they are all in wonderful working order.

No. Not Creative.
There is one mailbox that has corn stalks. A messy dirty dried bunch of dead cobweb infested corn stalks, tied to the mailbox with some weird faceless pumpkin dudes tied to the stalks. This isn’t fall themed coloured corn stalks, this is stale, brown crusty corn stalks from your local farmers field.  This is not creative by my standards, this is just creepy and annoying. I have to fight with the leaves to open the door and I drop the F bomb at least once during the stalk box visit. It’s dead corn stalks for crying out loud. Tie them to your front door and leave the mailbox out of it. I will tell you what your husband, neighbours and friends are afraid to tell you!! NO ONE is impressed with your dead dirty corn stalks. Just let us do our job without having to tackle the jungle to do it. While you’re at it, do us all a favour and give the dead stalks back to the farmer whose field you stole them from. We all know you walked across the road and cut yourself a few stalks. Stalker.

Now that the creators are out of the way, we have the majority to talk about. Mailboxes are gross. They almost always have spiders, cobwebs, earwigs and duck tape, are falling apart in one way or another, missing pieces and man, I just don’t understand people. You know what I have? I have a friggin mailbox! No duct tape holding it together, no threats inside written on paper, no missing door, it’s not bent and wobbly. It’s a mailbox with a fully operational door.

Rust Buckets.
I don’t want to have to go to the emergency room and get a tetanus shot when I cut my hand again trying to reach in your rotting, falling apart rusty mailbox, that also has its door hanging off by one sliver of a rusty hinge. CHANGE IT! If you ask me real nice I’ll drive it over and you can call the city and say someone knocked your mailbox over. Lucky for you, they’ll send someone out to repair it. But once they see your rust bucket, they’ll spend the money you aren’t and get a real one. Geesh! Why is it so hard?

Arachnophobia.
If your mailbox has spider webs, spiders , earwigs or any bug on it when I arrive, I can guarantee you without a doubt, I will bet my house and children, that I used YOUR flyer to beat and kill the pests and swiped all the webs away before I put your flyer set inside your box. It’s not dirt smears on your flyers, it’s your friendly neighbourhood spider. If it’s sticky, it’s just the webs. If you have a mailbox and see the flyer in your driveway and wonder why. Check your mailbox. It could of been so gross that I wasn’t willing to battle the arachnid farm living in and on your mailbox. Fix it or next week you’ll get the flyer in your driveway again.
Side note: House #4935, the next time I open your mailbox and hundreds of earwigs fall out I’m burning it down. To the ground.

Duct Tape.
I do not want to battle duct tape. I checked my contract with work and not anywhere does it say I will need to battle hanging sticky bunches of duct tape while trying to get the flyers in the mailbox. If your mailbox needs duct tape, I’m going to go out on a limb here, but it just might need replacing.

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Terrorist Proof.
For those of you that think it’s hilarious to weld and make your own two thousand pound mailbox I’m not laughing. First. Rule 101. Mailbox doors open down not up. So it’s bad enough you feel the need to build a missile and terrorist proof mailbox, but to have a door that weighs a hundred pounds open the wrong way is not cooperating with flyer delivery physics. Because of your terrorist proof mailbox, I felt the need to accept your challenge and started lifting weights. Carry on neurotic.

Trickster.
There is a mailbox, rusty, bent and clearly in need of retirement on my route, like so many. This one I’m not so sure I need permission to drive it over. It just might accidentally happen one fine day. The door is not hinged on, like you would assume. I open the door and let it go thinking it’s hanging on by hinges. You know, like it should be. It falls off. I constantly forget because it goes against mailbox door policy. Hinges! I have to pull forward and get out, get the door and put it back on. Eventually I got fed up and just threw the door in the mailbox. The door remained inside the mailbox for over a month. Recently the door was back on. I said to myself “Oh good, someone fixed it”. I pulled it down letting the door go again and what does it do? Falls into the tall grass surrounding the mailbox AGAIN! I’ve had enough. So you understand trickster, I drove over your door, reversed and drove over it again, forward shift. One more time driving over it for good measure. I have your door in my car. You will never see it again. I hope your mail gets snowed on!

A Barn.
Is this massive structure really necessary for some envelops and a few pieces of paper? What exactly are you expecting to get delivered? Mail order a new car recently? Seriously, knock it down a size, you look pretty silly. You know what women say about guys who drive trucks with stupidly large tires. Well your friendly neighbourhood group of fine ladies would like to know if your mailbox is compensating for anything.

Let’s talk about some of the people now.

Love letters. Some people are just bat shit crazy. Obviously this poor guy is at his wits end and left a love letter for his federally criminal thieves. Why would you take someone else’s flyers? Oh right, cause you’re bat shit crazy that’s why. Leave his flyers alone.

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I have a few regulars who wait or come flying out of the house when they see the delivery lady. Interesting for sure. One gentleman is a bit much. I’ve actually informed the office that they may have to intervene if he can’t get his wackiness under control. Fortunately they know who I’m talking about from previous experience. Everything with this guy is a conspiracy. Oh wait, this is the best. He says one of the local grocery chains in the next town over is prejudice because they won’t put Merry Christmas on their flyers so he won’t shop there. Of course he told me this in July. Makes total sense; When you’re a nut job. He also wants to know why they aren’t saying God bless in schools anymore. But wait, this is what he actually says “Fuck. I want to fucking know, like fuck, why they aren’t fucking you know, saying God fucking bless in schools any fucking more? Fuck.” This is a 50+ year old man who clearly role models ZZTop. After ten to fifteen minutes weekly, of listening to his rants for 4 months, I finally told him I was an atheist and a spy so I had better get back to work before my boss, a bigger spy kicked my ass. I haven’t seen him since. Magical.

One elderly lady every week tells me she doesn’t want the flyer anymore, opens it and says oh yes this one I do, it’s the other one you deliver I don’t want. After several attempts to explain, I only deliver one set week after week, I now respond with “yes ma’am, you have a wonderful day” and I carry on.

Ok, these type of people make me want to get out of my car and kick them right in the. Shins. Yes shins. They look at me as I approach their mailbox like I’m committing a criminal act or like the act of delivering to their mailbox is some foreign action that they can’t seem to comprehend exactly what is happening right before their very eyes. Listen. Let’s cut through the red tape. You have a mailbox for a reason. You open your mailbox and collect papers and envelops. I know you collect from the mailbox, because it’s empty. Surely you must understand that by having a mailbox this means It will likely get used. STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M A CRIMINAL. It’s going IN your mailbox, not OUT of your house.

To wrap up the variety show, let’s talk about our local serial killer. There is a house hidden way back in the trees. The only reason I know there is a house in there, is because of the mailbox and driveway. If there was a universal sign for ‘A Serial Killer Lives Here’ this would definitely be it. Yup. Here we have it. A stuffed large dog tied to a tree with a real dog leash. No seriously. Look at the picture. This is the real thing. Once in a while I guess the wind knocks the dog over and the next week it will be propped back up.

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I’m just waiting for the day the forensics team shows up and a graveyard is uncovered. I’ll be there with my hand on my hip saying what took ya so long?

I throw a flyer bag in their driveway while driving because I don’t want to stop for their
mailbox. A lot can happen in 60 seconds. What I do know for certain is if these guys were my neighbours you’d see a ‘for sale sign’ the exact same day this dog went on the front lawn. Four months later, still no forensic team. Go figure.

I must say I do have a little bit more empathy readily available for Canada Post workers. A little bit. For the most part I laugh most of it off but I can see how some of it could easily get on your nerves if it was five days a week for twenty-five years. When I get to telling my stories to family and friends we get a good chuckle from it. But what if one day I stop laughing at it all. Will I go flyer postal?

Next time you go to your mailbox, ask yourself if it’s a user friendly mailbox. If it has duct tape holding it together, or parts missing, know that all us delivery folks are talking about YOU being crazy and cheap!

Now I’ll leave y’all to debate if mailboxes should be one word or two.

Day 3 of Juicing. Part 2; Baguette Beating.

What is wrong with the friggin world?! Didn’t they get the memo about me juicing and they should take all their drive thrus, fast food joints and pizza bars to the next city over?

I had an errand to run in a different city from where I normally grocery shop, but needed produce anyways for this dumb juicing idea I had. Getting through the grocery store with my few items for Flyp and Einsteins lunches for the week, and only my juicing items was a strenuous, bullet to my head, CHORE.

All the bakery items look so good. An employee was rolling out a new batch of warm croissants to put out and as she walked past me, I stood still (creepy to others I’m sure) and turned to suck in all of the (fake) buttery scent I could. It smells so good. I took my depressed hungry ass past the rotisserie chicken (even though it’s gross and I never eat it from there. Ever!) my mouth is watering, I can smell the plump juicy meat and know it would satisfy me better than sex right now. Sorry Einstein, unless you taste and smell like chicken and croissants you just can’t compete today.

Around the corner of the next isle, the lady is handing out samples of a new cheese (meh, I don’t care too much for cheese) but the fresh baguette she was putting it on is a different story. I had visions of beating her with the dozen baguette sticks she had there and smashing the cheese in her face and while I was walking away satisfied, I’d whisper ‘juice that bitch.’ Me and hungry don’t get along, can you tell? The worst part is I know it all tastes so delicious. It was time to hurry up and get the hell out of the store.

Man I’m T.H.E. champion. I manage to leave with my juicing commitment in tack and no one hurt. Pretty sure that’s my biggest accomplishment to date.

BUT…

As I’m pushing my cart out the door to the parking lot with $90 worth of produce for a few days of juicing I look forward. (Keep in mind I always park in the back to get those extra steps in). Crack cocaine is cheaper than juicing. What the F is wrong with this world? Seriously, I shit you not! I could be a drug addict for cheaper. Anyways, back to my cart pushing …. This is what I see. Choices. I see choices of what to cheat with.

– Baskin Robbins
– Wendy’s
– Starbucks
– Subway
– Swiss Chalet
– Tim Hortons (I don’t do Tims so that doesn’t phase me)
– The Keg
– Montana’s
– Some smoke house advertising cheap crispy luscious sauce lathered wings and ribs.

All while I’m pushing a cart full of plants and freaking starving. Can I just tell you how gooooood a smoke house smells? Omg. I checked for a pulse, this atheist thought she had died and went to heaven.

I cheated. Although I only slightly cheated, I still did cheat. I ripped 2 celery arms off and chewed on them like a cowboy chewing on tobacco. I drove out of the massive big block mall parking lot like I just lit all the restaurants on fire to burn to the ground. Right to the ground!! After I was driving like I was on a mission for the CIA, I couldn’t figure out what the Bing Bing Bing annoying noise was. Oh crap! I forgot to put my seatbelt on. I was so focused on not eating anything in sight and chomping on my dirty celery, that I didn’t hear my reminder Bing for my seatbelt and didn’t notice it for some time. That’s an act of desperation if I ever saw one.

I must be feeling better because I am starving!!!! Being light headed seems to be an issue also with juicing. I am also yawning a lot. I never noticed if I yawned before, but today I noticed I yawn a lot. I was in a meeting and kept yawning…very unlike me.

I ordered a new scale from Amazon.ca. If it doesn’t tell me what I want, someone is going to experienced being beaten with a brick of cheese while I eat the baguettes.

Cheap Or Frugal

I’m always looking for a way to save money.  Although I will admit hesitantly, money saved somehow seems to get spent in other areas.  For example, when I look back at the fortune I used to spend on my hair shampoo and conditioner, which I now make for pennies, I am left wondering do I notice that $75+ a month that I save?  I can’t really say when I look in my bank account I say oh there it is, that extra $75 this month.  I also make my own body wash – mostly – and other items.  Where is all that saved money gone?  That’s a really good question.

For a small time frame before we bought this home 4 years ago, money was ahhh whatever.  Bills were always paid and money was always there.  Business was booming and everything was rich. Things change.  Economy slowed down.  We bought this house.  Put a substantial down payment on it and did a lot of renovations before moving in. $$$$$ I have my simple country dream home, but at the cost of financial fluency.  I’d do it all over without hesitation again of course, but everything really does come at a cost.

One day I am going to be disciplined and document every penny I spend.  I used to be so broke that I knew every single expense down to the last roll of toilet paper (that I usually had to ‘borrow’ from work).  By no means would I claim to be rich now, or ever, but I’m definitely comfortable in the sense that previously choosing between food on the table and heat was an actual ‘thing’ for me and isn’t now; Things definitely used to be rough for my daughter and myself.  However, that was then, this is now.

Maybe a part of me has resorted back to being very aware of what being truly broke is.  Not the broke like, I paid my rent, paid my new car payment and have a full fridge full of food and I can’t go away for the weekend and party my face off.  Broke like holy shit its cold sleeping in your winter coat and mitts!

I never ever want to be that broke again. Sometimes Einstein tells me that I live in a state that is ready to be borderline homeless.  It’s sometimes hard for me to even buy new clothes and I wear the heck out of everything…so much so it’s not even worth donating when I’m done with it.  I see that as a good thing!  Got a good bang for my buck on that sweatshirt..haha!  I have to really need those clothes before I can buy them, yet I have a sewing room full of projects on the go.  Go figure!  Maybe some psycho-annalistic type person could have a field day in my brain and let me in on my own scrambles.

Most recently I bought a new vehicle, first one in 15 years.  I didn’t even buy the one from 15 years ago.  Einstein bought it because I was driving a beater and I had Flyp as my new born.  Trying to get through this purchase, oh man, it was like I was planning the world’s biggest event.  It was such a ridiculously stupid painful decision.  After numerous trips to the car dealership, many of them sitting on the curb at the dealership where Dan lined up 3 of the potentials in front of me and I stared at them … Most tolerant sales rep ever by the way.  Then I would go to a different dealer, different make.  Go through the same thing.  Three months later still no decision. I needed my biggest bang for my buck, one that I can drive for the next 10 years, road worthy for our winters, great gas mileage, premium safety, and not the most expensive to fix when something goes wrong and warranty comparisons etc.,

This decision process is exactly what I vision hell to be like when I am damned to there…HAHA.  Then I had a thought.  What if I let people in on my intent to purchase a vehicle, it could trigger, hopefully, some feedback and input.  After about a further month of talking around I bought a 2015 Chev Equinox.  Of course I go to the car show a few months later.  I blew it!  Piss me off…anyways, decision was finally made.

Didn’t purchase then what I would get today.  Oh well.  So it wasn’t about being cheap with my purchase, it was my biggest bang for my buck, without paying for the’name’.  That was me being frugal not cheap.

Did I mention I exhaust myself?  It’s a good dang thing I never plan to get married; I’d plan myself right off a cliff!!

I’m often called cheap, usually as a joke I’m sure (I hope), but it has made me question am I cheap? Too cheap?  Will I take it too far the older I get?  Will I be one of those old grannies that offers ½ a cookie to my grandchildren I’m being told I’ll never have?  Will I shop at the dollar store for my grand childrens birthday presents?  Does it matter since I am reminded almost every day I will be grandchildless?

We all know cheap people, but are we wrongly accusing them of being cheap when in reality they are frugal.  I know cheap people, I mean I KNOW CHEAP people.  Unfortunately Einstein is one of them, and they all typically annoy me.  They complain a lot about everything if you go shopping with them (don’t do it) and oddly enough the cheapest people I know spend the most amount of money on SHIT, non-essential things.  Some of these cheap people borderline on hoarding and are dollar store fanatics.  That is cheap to me!  Einstein is brutal for being cheap.  He refuses to see the logic when paying for the same pair of shoes 4 times a year @ Wal-Mart is not cost effective when if you pay a lump sum up front then they are less than ½ of the Wal-Mart cost you incurred over the course of a year.  To be cheap means you care about the cost of an item regardless of the quality.  Being frugal means you care about the value of items. I like to think of myself as frugal and not cheap.

We don’t have a lot of things in our home.  We have items don’t get me wrong, but our home is pretty … ummm empty compared to most.  Perhaps it isn’t homey to others but to us, its simplicity is home.  We don’t have clutter on top of bookshelves and tables and excessive anything.  Actually, if I’m completely honest we have a LOT of movies and my book inventory is always increasing.  Flyp with his peanut allergy keeps us out of movie theatres as a family.  We purchased a mother of a big screen TV and crazy intense surround sound system many years ago so we could experience the movie theatre environment safely in our home, as a family.   We have quality items like on our main floor TV room furniture is top notch leather furniture (fuck off PETA, I have your cat in my freezer that you killed yesterday instead of rehoming!! Assholes.  PETA and I aren’t friends.) and flat screen TV’s etc., we just don’t have a lot of things.  We don’t have coffee tables and very few end tables and everything has a home, except if you walk in Flyp and Einsteins rooms…Horrid hurricane aftermath disasters.  Not sure how to explain our home, it’s just really simple.  (yes Einstein sleeps in a different room, because he is a snor-a-holic)

So the whole reason I was brought to this topic, is tonight when the boys were working late and I had time to kill, I decided to make my capsules.  I make my own herbal capsules.  Cheap? Or Frugal?  Frugal of course folks!!  Firstly, I don’t like the thought of my herbal capsules being kept in plastic regardless of BPA or not.  Every time I need more (approx. 30-60 days) I have to pay for another bottle and another sachet of beads to keep it fresh inside plastic.  Solution:  DIY!! It’s a whole lot cheaper, honestly, a fraction of the cost when you are purchasing ANYWHERE else.  I also control the quality of the ingredients.  I buy non-gmo capsules and get top notch ingredients.  Tonight I needed to replenish my Psyllium Husk capsule inventory and my Astragulus.  Psyllium Husk is your traditional Metamucil without GMO’s and natural flavours (chemical flavouring).  Astragalus is an amazing root and should be included in everyone’s daily intake.  Do yourself a favour and google Astragalus and get on it! Astragalas has been attributed to weight loss/control, energy, help with controlling type 2 diabetes, fights free radicals (cancer) and it has a long list of wonderful attributes and has been used in Chinese medicine for thousands of years.

Being frugal has afforded me the ability to take control of many items, such as making my own capsules, making my own hair cleaner, body wash, lip balms, using a menstrual cup, right down to homemade granola bars and the list goes on.  I’m always looking for a better way to exist, which usually means reducing expenses, waste and results in living healthier.  There are many more ways to be frugal and it is my intention to get to them over time.  I’m always making changes and improving how I live and trying to live a simpler better life.  Not everything is a hit, some are a miss, but its almost always attainable in some form.

I’m a proud frugal enthusiast in the making!!

For those of you interested in my complete disregard of PETA see the following websites.  PETA kills over 90% of the companion pets they take into their care. 

https://www.petakillsanimals.com/proof-peta-kills/

http://www.nathanwinograd.com/?cat=10

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/douglas-anthony-cooper/peta-steals-and-kills-lit_b_6156196.html

And if you google, there is much much more.

It’s My Birthday!!

Actually, no it’s not. But I wanted to write about birthdays and anniversaries.

I will speak of ‘birthdays’ in the adult stage only.  Not the child age range. I don’t have enough time to get into why birthday parties are so out of control, and are contributing to breaking the budget of parents and the parents assumed pressures to outdo the last party your child was at. Then we have Cupcake competitive moms, that usually end up in cupcake wars. It’s just all too much for me to include in this write.

Back to blog … A birthday actually translates back to a birth date.

Lets talk about expectations.

So, lets just say, its my birthday. It’s not, but for arguments sake, let’s just say it is. It is the day I was born. Me, not you. Me. Why on earth have I ever made it or implied it is ever another person(s) responsibility to celebrate and/or remember the day I was born? Think about it? It’s a day I was born. Me. Umpteen years ago. Why do I need cards/gifts and others to try to make me feel special for being born? Maybe on our birth dates we should thank our mothers for the birthing of ones self? Maybe my mom deserves a medal for tolerating a few moods she may of encountered while I was a teen…Oh wait a minute. She already has a day, Mothers Day. Maybe they have Mother’s Day all wrong. Maybe, just maybe if we have 3 children, we should have 3 days of Mother’s Day, on the children’s birth dates. Maybe these moms with multiple children have been ripped off .. Ha! Ok back on track.

So if we’re honest with ourselves let’s now ask .. When it is your birth date, do you have, on some level, any expectation for me (and usually plenty of others) to remember your day? Or course you do!! It’s been engrained into us, from the day we are born. Literally. Much like Valentines, Christmas, Anniversaries and the list will get bigger and bigger if we allow it. At this rate pretty soon every day will be full of sparklers, balloons and over achievers.  It really is such an odd concept when I really look at it. Hey you, new friend, now you must remember the day I was born, 45 years before ever knowing me.  Perhaps even a bit narcissistic too if I do say so myself.

There is an unspoken assumption (feels like more of a demand actually) that it is my responsibility to remember all the birthdays of anyone and everyone who is apparently of some importance to me. Do it without fail, don’t be late, and make it pretty awesome. Sometimes it can be as simple as Happy Birthday, other times it takes preparation a few weeks before the day, to get the perfect gift, the funniest card, mail it or arrange a time to meet up and have a coffee which you of course pay for, meet for dinner, whatever it is that makes the person feel special on their birth date.

Now with all the grouchiness out of the way, let’s acknowledge we all want to feel special and valued by our loved ones. I can’t see too much wrong with that, if we keep it in moderation. We feel fuzzy when people remember our birthdays, it immediately translates into I must be important in your life, I mattered today because out of everything you needed to do today I still cut through the clouds and you acknowledged my birth date. Ya it feels pretty good to know we matter and to have others think of us. The issue for me is how we go about getting it. There is to too much pressure behind remembering birth dates and making something out of them. Too much pressure behind the perfect gift and the acknowledgement and doing just the right amount of special’ness. What, when and why did it ever start that we need a birth date recognition from others? When my friend and I were chatting about it, she said she bets it all started with a birthday for a certain religious figure. Well, that’s easy for me to deal with haha!

I also totally get some people are natural event planners, love the preparation and the execution of an event gone amazing.  This is totally acceptable of course, for them the willing parties, but it isnt for everyone.  It definitely isn’t for me, this I can assure you 100%

Often, and I’m very guilty of this, we don’t tell the people in our lives how important they are to us regularly and that we value them and when applicable, how much we love them. Certain days of the year, Birth dates, Valentine’s, Christmas, I guess we are suppose to go over the top and SHOW our love with gifts and special treatment in some form. I can sort of see how this all begun and the expectations keep on growing like a big hairy wart on the end of my chin and it just seems way over the top now. It’s so inflated its absolutely worthless.

It’s really hard for me to remember birth dates. I mean a real honest effort has to come into play and I usually still fail. I don’t even know why.   I’ll text my sister, what day is Dad’s again, or when is moms? Some are easy for me to remember, like my kids and my own. Haha!! As I type this my sister out west texts and says I can’t believe ‘first born’, my niece, is 16 today. Say what?? I totally forgot!! I always try to be awesome auntie Sandy but failure is destined to be mine when it comes to b-dates. I put the dates in my electronic calendar On my iPhone, but I just dismiss and carry on when it dings at me, but I’m just not overly dependent on it so it’s not my life line to existing. I write it on my calendar hanging up in my office, but I don’t really read it unless I’m looking for something specific at that moment, like geeze Einstein is being weird AGAIN, is it a full moon? That’s what a calendar is for you know, the moon cycles.

Is it me or is this how it is for most people; When you forget a birthday, you hang yourself in the hall of shame. Naked; To ensure more shame. You’re embarrassed and hoping someone else failed miserably right along side of you, so you don’t have a bullseye only on your back. Maybe we feel a bit guilty because we ASSUME our birth date wish/card/gift would of made the difference in their validation for the coming year. You apologize profusely with a hung head, while the birth date friend/family is saying ‘oh it’s ok, don’t worry about it’ but typically thinking the complete opposite. We’ve all done it, thought how could they forgot my birth date after everything I’ve done for them… BLAH rant blah and don’t even say you haven’t, not even once. I have and will totally own that BS. So egocentric to think of everything everyone has going on in their own lives, that they must act and acknowledge my birth date within a 24 hour period for me to not be ‘offended’. Oh please!!! I’d like to kick my own ass for that mentality.

In general I have the perception men, to one another at least, men are typically lighter on the birth date issue but women usually are hell bent on their validation for being born. Year, after year. After year.

I don’t really do anything special for my birthday or have expectations any longer. For the last few years I’ve really let it be what it really is, another day. I don’t mention my birthday on social media (mostly because I’m not on most social medias). Nor do I ever want to be counting my Happy Birthdays on social media, all while checking to see who is missing from my expectation list. I don’t wait for friends to make plans for me and check my mailbox daily for the incoming cards and/or gifts. However, I might take a few hours and do something I normally don’t find the time to do, but its my birth date so I’ll gift myself. What a wonderful concept; Gifting ones self for their own birth date. Sometimes I’ve bought myself something for my birth date or made that Devils chocolate cake I love so much and eat too much of, because it’s MY birth date and I can do that for me.

Here’s how I see it, one adult to another; If you want a gift, get off your ass and go get it. Get the exact colour, shade and size you want, but we shouldn’t ever put that expectation of perfection on the ones you love to get it just right. If you want that celebration, plan it, organize it and execute it like the queen you want to be that night.  You make the dinner reservations and call/text your friends, ‘no gifts just laughs’, and who shows up shows up.  It’s our right to celebrate our birth date, but it’s not our right to impose any expectations on others.

It’s not to say I will never acknowledge a birthday again, no not at all.  I just have to remove the expectation I have from myself and the expectations that already exists.  I don’t want to contribute to negativity and would like to ultimately bring acknowledging the people whom I care a great deal about to a different level.  If I remember your birthday just know I can’t guarantee a second.  If I forget or I’m late, don’t think less of me and I won’t think less of you.

Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s my need and attempt for a simpler life, all while removing stressors as they arise. Maybe I’m just done with all the materialistic contributors in my relationships. I know in recent years I’ve been looking for a compromise, a softer approach and even an out to this way of existing in friendships and with family.

Freedom.
In case my message has been clear as mud over the years, here it is in written form. I’m releasing anyone and everyone of any expectation to remember, acknowledge, or assume any pressure to issue a token of any kind in relation to my birth date or any other implied expectations around my birth date. With that said, obviously I’m also releasing myself from any obligation for others birth dates. I would much rather send a random thinking about you text, call, card or small gift, meet up for coffee just because or grab some wings and hang out. Randomly. It just feels better. If I’m out doing errands and something has inspired me to think of you I’ll pick it up and do my best to get it to you at some point (unless it’s chocolate, then just forget it even existed) but I don’t want to feel pressured to buy something and often anything just to say here’s a gift. Random thinking about you words, cards, tokens far exceed any gift I could ever get when it is expected, in my opinion.

Today, I got a card in the mail from my sister, her kind words brought tears to my eyes. That card will mean a lot to me, forever. It wasn’t mandated, it wasn’t necessary or expected. It was pure kindness and I know she was thinking of me, just because, when she got it. That’s the absolute best!!

Anniversaries. This I can sum up quick. It’s yours, take a hike with your expectations of what you think I should acknowledge. I can’t even tell you when Einstein and I first dated, officially became a couple…it’s just all so, meh whatever, to me. I used to feel so much pressure, (likely my own doing but I don’t recall where it came from to be honest), to acknowledge and gift my parents for THEIR wedding anniversary… Omg! I seriously can’t take that on and I don’t want too.  ITS ALL YOURS!! See?! That WAS quick.

As per my calendar, Happy Waxing Crescent Moon Phase (22%)

A Personal Cleanse

There are times in our lives when we need to clean house, reorganize life’s closets, and take the trash to the curb. Personally.

We all have or have had vampires in our lives. People who suck the life out of us, leave us feeling drained after a visit. If I’m drained from laughter, shared tears and good times you’re a keeper and I’ll fight to keep you! If I’m drained from your toxic negative energy, judgment and hatred towards others, you need to go.

I have people in my life that bring a dark heavy cloud with each encounter and leave it hanging over me for days. When I dread the visit or have to convince myself to participate in ‘those’ relationships, why do I do it? I’m not sure why I ever get to the point of inviting and tolerating negativity into my life, but I seem to have it perhaps more often than others?. However, when I look back, I realize that people typically don’t present a negative persona when first building a new relationship, it’s all rainbows and butterflies.

We all go through hard times and struggle to find a positive buoy to stay afloat. This is what friends and family are for; To throw you a buoy, support you and help you get back on track. But that’s not the negativity I am referring too. I’m talking about detrimental hatred, judgement and self-promoted superiority over another culture, race and/or ethnicity, or of ones sexual preference, promotes racism and/or segregation. Those behaviours are hate crimes.  Punishable by law.

Friendships need to have a positive foundation with respect for each other. Also, I’m learning in life, complete opposite views on the religion aspect is very hard to maintain in a respectful manner. My cousin once told me that she can’t be friends with deeply religious people as the distance is too far for a connection. I told her I didn’t choose friends based on their lack of or their religious choices, that I don’t judge and I try to always see that person for who they are, not where or if they sit in church on Sunday. I am now seeing her perspective and can ‘hear’ what she was saying.

I’m not talking about Einstein, he would fall under a different category. Not that Einstein is exempt from my guidelines, ever, but it’s a different relationship with him in comparison to other family and friends who live externally to our home.

Through counselling a scaled ruler concept was introduced to me. A ruler was held in front of me. The concept explained and then we took some time to write on the ruler at key points what that relationship number best represented. It is my absolute best coping skill I’ve ever had and has given me an abundance of guidance for relationships. On a scale of 1-10, I position each person I have a relationship with on a personal level (we aren’t talker co-workers or that stuff), how close to my personal space they are, which ultimately influences how much they can and will affect me. Ten would mean you could crush and devastate me, zero means who are you again? Zero is a place where someone may visually exist within groups of friends or family, but they have no say in my life and I don’t converse with them or speak of them in any manner. Zero can also mean that person isn’t even a visual to me, which means they aren’t in my life on any aspect. Their attendance would exclude me. There is no sharing space. No exceptions. Their existence, for me, is nil. Someone at a level of 10 has my utmost respect and trust and I know I am 100% secure and safe with them. There aren’t 10’s in my life but I have 2 persons in the 8-9 range with the majority in my life being between 3-6, with some up and down from that of course. I also have the control to slide people up or down on the scale based on the relationship we have. It really has been instrumental in my capability to take good care of myself emotionally, something I wasn’t always good at.

We all use the ruler concept at some point in our lives, most just don’t call it a scale or ruler.  For instance, I don’t say you’re dead to me, I say you’re a zero.  I don’t say i trust you with my life, I say you’re a ten.  I don’t say I hate you and wish a garbage truck runs you over, I say you’re a zero.  I don’t say I love you more than life itself (really? Does that ever happen?) I say you’re a ten.

Lately I have fallen off the band wagon and gotten all wrapped up in bullshit, negativity, coupled with the overwhelming need to save the world from itself, at my own personal expense. After Flyp asked if I was ok one day, because ‘I’ve been extra quiet’ (which really translates to grumpy) and more anti-social than normal, it triggered me to take a look at what’s going on. Really? Have I gone down that path I work so hard to avoid? Time to take a look at what’s been going on lately. So I did.

After much journalizing and all my considerations in order, I have all my reorganizing sorted and implemented as of 3am this morning. Like Flyp said, I’ve been extra grumpy, dark and cloudy, everything has a problem and not being able to see a solution, has left me feeling like I’m fighting a fight, ultimately with myself. That’s not the most productive thing I’ve done in my life lately. I’ve stayed in some relationships much longer than I should of, I don’t always walk away that easily and usually like to feel I have given my all, but ultimately it was time to wrap it up and make a few adjustments.  I have to re-stand up for myself, stay focused, get back on track for being my best possible me.

Today, people have moved up, down and I have 1 that has been placed at zero.  Once all the decisions were made it all felt right. There isn’t any hellos or goodbyes, it just takes place. For me.

I wish for everyone an inner sanctuary; Where we can really love who we are and be our absolute best, free of anyone else’s dark clouds.

I have accomplished my personal cleanse and my closets are organized and cleaned.  It feels GREAT!!

Canada Verses USA

I’m Canadian. A proud Canadian. Live Free, Live Strong, right here in beautiful Ontario. Yet our political family is really quite boring. I don’t care for politics at all, avoid the conversations with everyone, but I do like personality. I know more about Obama, Bush and Clinton than I do Tory, Wynn, Cretian, Martin and Harper. I know too much about Rob Ford, but for all the wrong reasons as he made all the wrong decisions.

Our political family is not personable, showing up on talk shows or writing books. At least I’m not aware of any.  I’m a fan of Bill Clinton, I think mostly because I like Hilary so much. Hilary is smart, strong and fierce. She took her man back, got her ducks in a row and made Billy Bob realize his life would be shit without her. Go Hilary! They are proud grandparents now and it makes the news. Bill has a very likeable personality, BJ or not. Bad decision Bill, but we like your wife so much we forgave you, but it should be noted, only because Hilary did. If Hilary kicked Bill to the curb, we would of all bought the same shoes and started a kickin’.  Bill is a vegan now, except for his fish once a week that he confesses he eats as a recommendation via his doctor. So that means he’s not a vegan duh!! But he professes to be a vegan who eats fish. Can’t wait for the letter that PETA will be sending him. Haha. He was on Rachel Ray the other day. He’s just so personable how can you not like that head of hair. Hilary was on the late show just to remind us how much we like her and I’m pretty sure we all want her to run for house…wouldn’t that be some awesomeness!

Does Harper even have kids? I don’t even care enough to google and find out. He’s bla to me. Does he even have a personality? Can he rent one for his public speaking? Does he do fundraising events? What does he do outside of parliament? Ahhh who cares, it’s probably boring anyways. When we had murders linked to ISIS at parliament, Quebec, Harper was compassionate and aware. I will give him that. But when he wants to assure Canadians that we are safe, he doesn’t speak with conviction. He isn’t fierce. I can’t be a Harper follower. He just doesn’t have even a little spark to him. Can you imagine Harper on Seth’s late night, or with Jimmy Fallon. Ummm no. You have to have personality for that. B o r i n g.

Bush. I love to hate me a good Bush. War slut! I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say Bush owns a gun and smokes a bit of weed with dear old Laura.  Why else would he have that perma-smirk? He does right?! I think Bush would of handled these North Korea, ISIS, and Russian/Ukraine situations with a lot less consideration for human lives. Guns a blazing = Bush. I may not like him too much, but I know way more about him then my political leaders on my side of the border.  He has been on talk shows, talked with Barbara Walters, participated the ice bucket challenge and just been an available personality you can get to know if you want. I think Bush was on Oprah promoting his book and he had my attention.  He’s kind of a smart ass actually.

Wynn. She has a weird voice. By that I mean she speaks volumes on some issues and then falls off the map on others. I think she needs to find balance. Either be an outspoken politician or shush, period. It sure would help me figure out if I like her or not. She does have a bigger voice than Harper in my opinion. She’s a little bit bitchy and I can relate to that ha! I like that she is a gay and there are no beans about it. She has handled it with such class, like of course I’m gay, what’s the big deal. She is just so cool cat about it, that you don’t even care about it when she speaks etc. Or maybe that’s because I don’t care about who she choices to be with at the end of the day. It’s not my decision to make. I know some people don’t vote for her party only because of her sexuality. Here’s a shocker for Ya, they aren’t kind atheists or kind Christians. A politician who will end up in hell? Well, I never … Anyways, I like that she is female and gay.  Puts a little bit of spicy sauce on the boring pasta dish. Is she active in the gay community? Does she do anything for kids and obesity? I have no clue about who she is. She isn’t very interesting in my books.

Obama. I do like Obama. Obama care. Oh that has caught some slack but it’s damn impressive if you think about the population size in the USA. He handles these ISIS threats with fierceness, strong convictions. He delivers a sense of safety.  False sense or not isn’t for me to say.  Canadians could use a Prime Minister who talks with conviction not monotones like he is tone deaf. Obama is friends with Jay and Beyonce. Ok über cool! He has a rocking wife. She is dynamite! You just know she is the back bone to that man. You know she keeps him in line and doesn’t give a shit that he is the president of the USA, she rules that White House and we all know it. I really like Michelle. Class. She has worldly class. She is involved with charities and we know of her charity involvement. That’s the point right? If you have a voice, raise it and use it.

I envision Obama saying shit Michelle, I have to call lame Harper today. Or maybe those two, Harper and Obama, just trash everyone on the phone together and are in ka-hoots. Maybe it goes down with Obama saying you lay low Harper, I got this, I got the big guns that Bush left behind. Who knows.

After re-reading what I’ve written, I realize it’s mostly the partners, Hilary and Michele, that I most like about the past and current Presidents of the USA. I was thinking I should do some research on Harper, Wynn and maybe even this Tory dude. Tory I could sit beside on the subway and not even know it was him. But I don’t have to research for the U.S. Presidents and their spouses…they present the opportunities for us to get to know them through simple media.

I just need to decide if I want to ‘know’ Harper and Wynn. I’m sure the information is there, I just need to dig for it. However, Canadian Politicians don’t seem to have the same platform like our cross border Presidents.  If you’re into politics you will likely know our Canadian politically family personalities but my point is (as stated in first paragraph) I don’t like politics.  I like personalities. Today I’ve got better things to do, then Canadian Poltical personality homework.  I don’t think I’d be thrilled with my findings anyways.

Instead, I think I’m going to search for a sassy, sarcastic, Atheist Prime Minister for Canada. That’s exactly what we need .. Ha! Just kidding. Maybe.

He shoots, he scores!! USA wins with a shoot out for personalities.

Bullsh*t

Wow! I need one of these. Actually I need two. They yell out BULLSHIT when you push the button.  One to stay at home and one to put in my pocket for my outings. I’m afraid they wouldn’t last very long. I’d use them often.

When I’m at home, I know I’d get my monies worth. It actually could be alarming exactly how much ‘BULLSHIT’ would be spilling out of my button. I do have Flyp you know. The teenager who is more often then not in kahoots with Einstein. I will give them 100 for effort, they are always trying to BULLSHIT me on something; Usually why a chore or request didn’t get done. Again. The button would definitely get used several times daily.

Next I’d love to go to Flyps high school. Oh how I love to hate on the barbaric school system. I would push the bottom with a hand held speaker horn hooked up to it with my first step into the school. BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT all the way to the administration offices. Then I would walk in, BULLSHIT as they all sit around drinking coffee and eating cookies. Let’s give it a few more beeps! I really want them to know what I think of them. No misunderstandings left on the table. Then off to find Mr. Wonderful. I would ask the principal what he’s doing about the kids smoking on school property, and the ones smoking a joint in their vehicle on school property. I have yet to show up at this school and NOT see these infractions taking place. I show up often. Yes I’m that mom. But you don’t see my kid out there smoking. If he’s going to smoke I will make it very difficult for him to find a way. I’ve confronted the school previously and asked why the smokers of all kinds aren’t dealt with. I got a sob story about how there is only two of them and they can’t be out there 24/7. BULLSHIT BULLSHIT Ummmm why not? You just let the kids rule? BULLSHIT!!! I want to know why shitty uninterested detrimental teachers are on my tax roll. BULLSHIT The list of BULLSHIT in the school system is too long to put in this blog.  I would even be willing to follow Mr. Wonderful around for an entire day beeping that button as I spew my questions at him. BULLSHIT!! I’d even bring my other one from home just to make sure I had back up, should we have technical difficulties over the heavy usage.

A few months ago I could of used my BULLSHIT button at the gas pumps. But for now it will stay in the car while I fill up.

I have a few acquaintances and family members that I would pull up in their driveway and just beep it until they come out and see what’s going on. Give it one last honk BULLSHIT and be on my way to the next house.

Then I would show up at the SPCA. Need I say more? Oh the rounds I could make. Grocery store check outs as I sweat bullets trying to digest the cost of feeding a family a healthy non-boxed diet, political offices, veterinary offices, animal testing labs, police stations and the list would go on and on.

Ahhhh tax season. This would be my best yet!!! I will bribe some innocents with gifts or their own bullshit button if they join my marching band. We will march into Rev Can to personally deliver my taxes just so I can have a symphony of BULLSHIT buttons going off all at once as I drop my envelope on the counter. A big BULLSHIT fiesta! Almost makes me excited for tax season.

Then I would walk into every church….you know where this is going.

BULLSHIT

Someone Is Asking Really Dumb Questions

Question: Should women get paid menstrual leave from work?

Did y’all see this in the news recently? Here’s one article on it.
http://www.cbsnews.com/news/should-women-get-paid-menstrual-leave/

I’m not sure why this is a question. It should be a statement. Who is asking this stupid question anyways? Definitely not a women and not my dogs. Shouldn’t this be a ‘Public Safety Announcement’? Not only should we get paid leave from our place of employment we should get respite care away from our home employment, including partners and children. Far away. Different postal/zip code.

Definition: Respite care is the provision of short-term accommodation in a facility outside the home in which a loved one may be placed. This provides temporary relief to those who are caring for family members, who might otherwise require permanent placement in a facility outside the home.

I’d like to qualify for permanent placement outside the home. Just kidding. Maybe. Of course the Respite Care facility should be tweaked too accommodate the circumstances. The facility requires no men, no children. It can’t even smell like a man has been there. Ever. The facility must have freshly made cheesecake daily, butter tarts, strawberries dipped in chocolate, any smoothie we could ever want with chocolate on the side, tea, lattes. The facility must have huge, comfy pillows in the home movie theatre with salty, buttery popcorn readily available. Real butter. Don’t even think about anything but real butter. Remember why I’m there. No casualties. There needs to be endless supply of movies to choose from, comedy’s and romance, like BrideMaids, Sweet November, Hope Floats etc. and a few documentaries that can channel our frustrations. Movies about Monsanto usually fire me up pretty good. Haha! (Oh yes I will blog about Monsanto).

Imagine the difference in our life if everyone just got lost for a day or two. Preferably two. Wow. How much more tolerable PMS could be. If I’m realistic and pin point what annoys me the most during my PMS time frame, it’s people. Basically anyone who breathes.

PMS is not funny. I seriously cough up a week of my life every month. That equates to 3 months of every year I lose. What a rip off!! I’m irritable, murderous, zero tolerance for people even breathing, never mind chewing their food or slurping soup that’s for dinner. Thursday I made homemade chicken soup for dinner and the hubby slurps his soup (times like this I’d like to have not so nice words with his mother!!) I grabbed my bowl as I get ready to leave the table and was so incredibly annoyed I snapped at him (I swear I saw a bit of fire leave this dragons mouth) ‘you are disrespecting my soup when you slurp it. SOUP DOESN’T WANT TO BE SLURPED!!’ Oh ya, I’m loads of fun. Of course I try and wrangle it in and keep it under control, but there is always a casualty, despite my honest efforts.

Side Note: Future prospects for my son – he does not slurp his soup because his mother has told him she does not need his partner to want to have not-nice-words with me! Yes, You can thank me later.

So I sit in my doctors office a few months ago. I tell him you need to help me. I explain that someone is going to lose a limb, at the very least. He was amazing. He said it is hard for sure and as we approach menopause it can get worse or better. For me it’s getting worse. I don’t need anyone’s vote on that. I know my own reality. Definitely. So he suggested I take some Evening Primrose. If that doesn’t take the edge off he can help with hormones. Pffft. No hormones. Isn’t that what is causing the issues now? I definitely don’t need to feed the dragon. I take my Evening Primrose regularly but I can tell you my edges are still very sharp. I should come with a warning ‘Handle With Care’ or you’ll get cut! Deep. Stitches. Prosthetics.

I can’t help but wonder (often) what society would be like if men PMS’d and cramped up while they shed their uterus lining. It wouldn’t be a question of whether men get paid menstrual leave, it would of been implied from day one. Ever witness a man cold? How about a male who has a man cold and PMS? Can you frigging imagine? I would take hubby out back and shoot him in the field like the rabid beast he would be, to put me out of my misery. Oops!! I mean put him out of his misery. Reality is, men couldn’t handle PMS. Truth.

I am a lucky one. Or maybe it is any co-workers I would have, that are the lucky ones. I work from home and can take 1/2 day or full day off when I feel it’s a  public safety issue. It’s not often that I feel a need to take a whole day off due to PMS. Lucky right? Very! Let me remind you why. No one is around to annoy me with their unnecessary breathing. I work alone.

As we continue to fight for equality in the work place, I don’t see paid menstrual leave working in our favour. Yet. It’s a long way out there for sure and if it comes around I probably won’t care. I’ll either be in jail or through lovely menopause and life will be glorious again.

I wish for my sisters out there a supportive partner and some relief in any form you can get it. Take what you need, even a day off work, you deserve it!

Thank you for reading!! I’m off to find butter tarts 😉

Think Big. Think Dead.

Dead. Adjective: no longer alive.

Death. Noun: the action or act of dying or being killed; the end of life for a person or organism.

The other day Hubby and I were talking death. Not really even sure how we got on the topic actually. I probably threatened his life again over something like if he snorted or grunted one more time…(This guy is a noise factory). So being the sarcastic one I can be, I asked him how he’d like to go out and I’d consider his wishes. Haha! At least I’m willing to listen to the wish list.

So after we goofed around a bit he asked ‘what about you?’  Ba-Zinga! I explained (more like a rant) about refusing to spend money with my death. Silly hubby then asked ‘what do you mean?’

I’m not a believer or a belieber. (Haha sorry couldn’t resist). I’m Atheist. Every opportunity I get, I remind my Catholic hubby I’m Atheist and I still love him anyways.  I’m a proud Atheist and don’t hide behind anything or anyone and there are no beans about it! I’m a weird Atheist though. I believe we do have spirit beings around us and I love to watch Long Island Medium. Heaven? No. Hell? So manipulative and controlling, absolutely not!! I also don’t eat my children.  Weird right? It doesn’t matter to me if you believe in one or two Gods or pick one from the available buffet of Religions. Irrelevant to me. In return I expect my choices to not offend or matter. If it does offend/matter, I don’t lose any sleep over it because I can guarantee you, that my self worth today and tomorrow does not exist because I am accepted, or not, by the offended. I’m good with who I am. I have the capability to accept family and friends on who they are, how they treat themselves and others, not if or where they sit in church on Sunday. Sooo…back to death. Being an Atheist perhaps is a reason why I have such a different perspective on death compared to anyone I know, is my point.

I explained to Hubby for me when I’m dead, I’m dead. Done. Kaput. Cease to exist. Gonzo. There isn’t a heaven for me. Thankfully, there isn’t a hell for me either haha! I can not justify an expense for death. I just can’t. I told him if he dies he better have a note left with directions to an envelop somewhere with a stash of cash for the event he wants to have. I’m not paying for it. True love I’d say. What? At least I’m honest.

Here’s a summary of how our conversation went down.

I want to be cremated. A big dusty ashy mess. I’ve instructed Hubby to have a dispenser (cheap one. Its one time use) at our home with single serve cups. Whoever has ever wanted to throw me off a cliff at some point in my life, well here’s your chance!! Better get there early, quantities are limited. I literally want to be thrown off a cliff into the ocean. I don’t want a service. I don’t want a stone/spot or plot. Don’t ever do that to me. I don’t want to wear a dress or wear makeup. It’s just not me. On a good day I wear eyeliner and mascara, a pair of sweats that don’t have bleach splatters and holes in them and will have my sweat shirts not flipped inside out. (I hate tags and seams.) That’s it, that’s all. Don’t put that makeup crap all over my face and body. I don’t want to be embalmed and be all bloated. I’ve spent a period of time every month for the majority of my life bloated. F-off with the bloating. I don’t want people looking at me in a box all dead and bloated and lathered in makeup telling each other, wow, she looks good, just like herself. No. I won’t. If you must do something to make yourself feel better, go out and eat, have a backyard bbq or whatever works. Celebrate life, memories and reconnect with loved ones. I love the Mandarin, ribs, chicken wings and bread. I don’t like Mexican, but if you enjoy it, mow down! Go have fun! Or just do your own thing. I’m dead. I won’t judge.

Then we got to my financial reasons for not wanting the funeral service in the death industry, better known as the death care industry. I don’t want to add to the already inflated very wealthy industry. I will go out on a limb here and say it’s a form of extortion. (Don’t get your knickers in a knot – see disclaimer in ‘all about me’) Individuals get rich off the loss of our loved ones.  Gross.  People are getting rich because people die. Just so awkward for me.  People can be vulnerable when they lose loved ones. Vulnerable. Especially if it’s unexpected. They can feel obligated to do more than they can afford … Or want to afford. It’s just a box with me, a bloated dead person in it with silk that I couldn’t afford when I was alive on my own bed, in a house that isn’t mine, with a final car ride that has silly curtains (because no one knows there’s a dead person hitching a ride back there.  Don’t peek!) which drives way too slow. Why do they drive so slow anyway? Someone told me its respectful. Ok, if you say so.

Summary: $8,000 – $10,000 is legalized extortion.

I also simply don’t see the point.  Lives often are turned upsides down and forever changed for someone who has lost a loved one close to them.  It’s unsettling losing a loved one, stressful, with an insane amount of sadness and it’s linked to a big expense. It just feels all wrong.  Why do we have to prolong the event with multiple viewings and a long tearful, sad service? Nah, not me. Get’er done and over with. I’m dead for crying out loud!! If you don’t spend $10,000 on me when I’m alive and I get to appreciate it, don’t bother when I’m dead. Should of sent me those overly expensive flowers when I was alive..so I could of enjoy them.  See my point here?

So hubby, like usual, thinks I have a few bolts loose.  He just kept shaking his head and said ‘you had better put that in writing because no one in their right mind will believe me if I say it is how you want it.’ He’s probably wrong, like usual, but there it is.  In writing.

Here are some very interesting facts about the death care industry I found on the Internet.

1. The projected revenue of the funeral industry in America is projected to be $16.2 billion in 2014.

BILLION … Spent on death! I just can’t process this.  $16.2 billion dollars.  Wow.

2. The median price for a funeral in 2011 was $7,045, up from $708 in 1960. In that same time, the number of Americans choosing cremation has grown from 3.56% to 42%.

Gee, I wonder why cremation as increased.  Maybe I’m not the only whack job out there with this point of view.  $700 to over $7,000.

Someone’s getting rich and it isn’t the dead people!

Thanks for reading!!