Thursday, June 30, 2005

God Save the Queens

It would seem that Canada passed bill C-38 on the 39th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots. I can't believe I've only come across this now.

Canada is the coolest.

Inventory of Adventures

Since the last time I wrote, in order:

- My PIC had his stag. For the first time ever *HE* comes home at dawn hammered, takes off his pants and tells me that there are pictures. He has tried tequila for the first time in his life. I am both horrified and titillated. He proceeds to wake up 6 hours later and throws up for the remainder of the day.

- I've done multiple shots off the chests of multiple girlfriends. The unspoken true joy of a stagette is a good ol' fashioned homo-erotic gong show with a girls best friends. The night was a blur but the sheer commitment for me to continue drinking kegs of Tequila really made my night. My last memory is getting in a cab at 8:00am and going home to my newly recovered PIC.

- I participated in the Relay for Life where my team was the third highest fundraiser at the event! The true joy was that there was a team there from the Toronto Downtown Knit Collective they had extra yarn and needles so I got to knit a bit with them when I was on break. I love making new friends and am very excited about getting back on the knit wagon.

- I've lost 2.4 lbs thereby stemming the flow of pre wedding weight gain - praise jebus. The f'ing dress is getting sausagelike, so extreme food control is imminent.

- We decided to get a small air conditioner. Jason has been waiting patiently for me to crack. This was decided this morning at 7:15 am when I started crying on the couch where I had been sleeping for the past 3 days. I cannot take it anymore, I generate heat by virtue of the *hendriks* metabolism already so having Mother Nature crank up the external heat is actually driving me insane. I'm not exaggerating.

- I got the following email from my Aunt Martha the hippest mother of three in the world, one of the best writers I know and a foodie extraordinaire:

Subject: Silas' bday party

was yesterday. We took 3 of his friends to the cottage.

Totally stressed and furious on Saturday. Felt it was absolutely necessary to clean the house despite the 30 degree heat. Matt and children helped. (The alternative would have been death.)
Sunday - Parents came and barely saw the clean house. Load the van with kids, food and head off. As we turn onto Balmer Rd....

Boy 1: Balmer Road!!! Bomb it Road. (many bombing sounds)
Boy 2: Not Bomb it! VOMIT!! I'M GONNA PUKE!! (this is evidently hilarious and is repeated for a very long time)

Arrive and kids go straight into the water. Quite successful, but the "play" starts to be "play fighting" and then is distinctly "fighting". Silas leaves the dock in tears.

On to lunch. Said boys are unable to sit at the table for more than a nanosecond. They grab the croquet balls and riff on that theme for a while. "My balls!", "Don't kick my balls!" repeated ad nauseum. Silas in tears again.

I thought his sensitive soul was perturbed by the conversation, but it turns out he had too many hot peppers on his burger.

I think they had fun. My left eye is still twitching.

Love,
M.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

It's a double header

So the neighborhood that I live in can sometimes be dodgy and there are a couple of houses up the street that the dodginess is actively displayed to the world.

To my PIC's great delight last Saturday as he was walking by they had some garbage that didn't get picked up and it was a huge COCK in a bucket. A big ol' dildo. We assumed that the second they realized that their COCK didn't get picked up that they would discretely bring 'er inside.

Today the PIC calls me at 7:50 am (ONE WEEK LATER) and in a hushed tone says..."The cock is still there only it's not in the bucket anymore...it's lying on the concrete beside the sidewalk - IT'S ONE OF THOSE HUGE DOUBLEHEADERS!"

So I grab my camera and head out the door to document the sex lives of my neighbours and I CANNOT FIND IT. I am walking so slowly and searching searching for the goods that a construction worker asked if I had lost anything.

I get on the streetcar and immediately call my PIC leaving a 'discrete' message along the lines of: 'I'm not sure the location of the statue on our street - call me and I'll get the picture' Once again: Discretion. Not my forte.

This is the email conversation that follows.

PIC: Your phone message this morning was very funny.

Me: i was trying to be cryptic because i was on the streetcar.

PIC: Jennifer Hendriks being discrete? What on God's green earth is going on. What next Jason Gemmill throwing a bucket of mud on the kitchen floor? Is the Sledgehammer dead?

The dildo, or fuck-stick, to use it's correct name is on the sidewalk between the funny thin house and the house with fenced in concrete front yard.

I love that FUCK STICK was used in my first emails of my day. That and the office just installed a new spam filter so the awkward Asian network administrator had to forward this email to me.

It's not even 10:00 am

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Memories of Prom

So..

I'm sitting on mom's couch last night folding the eighteen tons of cottage laundry. She had mentioned that she wanted to do loot bags at the wedding - the suggestion was met with cool contemplation as I have a mental image of stuffing 100 f'ing loot bags the night before the wedding. Last night she turns to me and assesses my mental health before saying:

"I was thinking I might *make* the loot bags out of fabric"

I reply delicately but with rising panic, "Make? you mean sew bags right? You're going to sew 100 loot bags...before the wedding"

I should mention that mom's relationship with the sewing machine is dubious at best and if you add a deadline the machine will dig in her heels and say "F' you a'hole, you should have finished the dress before the night before prom"

She starts laughing uncontrollably - "I know...I'm getting crazy and I won't do it but how funny is your face. You're remembering prom aren't you."

I think we're all going to be ok - god bless a sense of humour..

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

I do....now get me a sam'ich

My night in three sound bites.

At bedtime (Midnight - 28 degrees - two fans)

Me: Without you I would lead a shallow, stupid life....well maybe not shallow and stupid.

PIC: ....so you'd lead....a life. nice.

The failed corny moment is currently being patented by me keep your hands OFF.

Next moment: (1:00am - wake up laughing - issue 3 squirts of watter from the handy spray bottle)

PIC: Are you ok? What was that noise?

Me: What? I was laughing...

PIC: Wow that sounded like chickens.

(3:45 am - complete temper tantrum involving a seizure like display of impotent rage at the heat - I get up to have a shower)

I climb into bed soaking wet and freezing cold due to multiple fan action.

Me: whimper.

PIC: For god's sake...are you ok?

Me: No it's fucking hot and I HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT! (insert flailing and kickin of legs in the definitive temper tantrum) WHIIIINNNNE.

PIC: I can't believe what a furnace you are. And did you know every time you have a temper tantrum it's like sleeping on a trampoline for me.(ed. I have one of these temper tantrums every time I have no control over the heat at night)

Me: Great. I hope it's a fun one.

PIC: Between the chickens and the trampoline I'm living the dream.

Today it's 5 degrees hotter. Luckily I plan on getting absolutely shitfaced in order to pass out in my own sweat.

I'm dreamy.

Monday, June 06, 2005

Spray Bottle

As a northern ontario girl, I have an incredibly hard time functioning as a human being in temperatures over 20 degrees. This provides an enormous challenge for my PIC as I develop increasingly complicated systems to provide heat relief in the middle of the night to enable sleep.

The evolution began with fans - lots of them. Of course, I became addicted to the sound and now need at least 1 fan going every night 365 days a year. It gets a little bit "Linda Blair" for my PIC in the middle of the Canadian winter. But he just puts on an extra blanket and lets me enjoy my white noise.

Version 2.0 of Jen's Sleep Machination was 2am showers. I would get up and stumble painfully downstairs to the shower where I would soak myself in cold water then catch a chill lying naked in front of the three fans. I would then snuggle for body heat. If you were sleeping on a hot night and had a cold wet girlfriend full body spoon you - would you marry her?!? No one said I was a giving or considerate sleeper. He knows what he's getting into.

Version 2.5 of Jen's Sleep Machine came in the form of this:

That's right the common spray bottle. It's a genius solution - 3 fans and a light spray of water cools one right down quickly and efficiently. I'm currently learning to control the spray of water so that it doesn't hit my PIC who seems to have NO TROUBLE in 35 degree heat. HE IS A FREAK OF NATURE WITH INTERNAL CENTRAL AIR.

Until I've evolved to his level of AC I will love the spray bottle.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Happy Birthday Rica

It's been thirty years!


A true friend will sit for 2 hours... Posted by Hello

Things I know about Rica:

- Once she knows she can trust you she will cut anyone who says anything bad about you.
- She is the oldest child in her family. Her parents named her Rica after Eureka (they were happy about getting knocked up).
- She personifies everything Gemini
- She is successful at everything she puts her mind to.
- She is charming.


They're real and they're fantastic Posted by Hello

- She is a sexy sexy woman but doesn't throw anything but her tongue around.
- Rica got along really well with my crazy Auntie Anne at my cottage.
- This group of people would go to the end of the earth for Rica.


We put the 'ass' in class for Rica! Posted by Hello

Friday, June 03, 2005

Inventory of forgotten tools

My day was to be a finely tuned machine of coordination and scheduling.

The chef for our wedding was coming over for dinner at 7:00 which meant that I had to pick up the groceries on my way home for a simple barbecue and salad dinner (Stick to what you know when cooking for high end chefs)

The other task was to get the last of the wedding invites in the mail.

I pack my bag in the morning for the walk to work - a non negotiable activity since I gained 3 lbs in the past week. The obesity must be stopped. Water, discman and sneakers. Done.

As I walk into the office I realize I'd forgotten:

- Tampons. No biggie right? I can roll with that punch. I'll just go buy some on my coffee break.

- Work shoes. Normally I could get away with wearing sneakers but the HR team has recently put in a dress code - I went to tell the HR cougar that I forgot my shoes and she pulled out a pair of STILETTO'S for me to wear during the day. Fine. I can wear these enemies of feet everywhere until I go and buy a pair of civil shoes at lunch - look at me..roooooollllin I am so flexible.


Spikerific! Posted by Hello


- My fucking wallet without which I can't buy food for dinner, tampons or stamps for the last of goddamn motherfucking invitations. Seriously - what am I 12 years old? With my wallet is also all my subway tokens, obesity took another hit as I had to walk home after work...luckily I didn't have to wear stilettos.

Thursday, June 02, 2005


The Don River on my way home from work Posted by Hello