It’s been a long time since I’ve woke up this happy.
Well, except for almost pissing the bed and then smacking my head on the door jamb as I stumbleran to the toilet.1)No more drinking two cans of club soda at 2 AM and “stumbleran” can be a word, you just need to use it enough.
Perhaps I should say that it’s been a long time since I was this happy, a few minutes after I’ve woke up. That’s a little more accurate.
On my way back to bed, I noticed the light blinking on my phone. I checked, and there were three text messages on there. One from each of my girls. The first one was exciting, because it contained this.
I got one last night during a hardcore hacking session, and was very pleased to see that my sweet baby got one too. It won’t mean much to most of you, but any Ingress players should be a little envious of us right now.
Imagine my joy at this, and then reading the texts from the girls wishing me a happy Father’s Day and telling me that they love me and miss me.
I’m still crying.
I really had no idea that being a stepfather could be so fulfilling, emotionally.
In a few days, I will be flying home for Liv’s graduation, and to pack my family up for what is to be the greatest adventure of our lives, thus far. It will be filled with every kind of feeling that you can imagine, and I look forward to most of them, but especially the ones like I’m having now.
Those are the ones where I feel truly loved. I really don’t think that there could ever be a more complete feeling of worth as when you are really loved. I’ve had it all of my life, from my mom, and I’m pretty sure from my sisters 😉 , but I think that finding and marrying my one true love solidified it for me.
She didn’t have to love me.
Neither did her daughters.
Courtesy of the fantastic Erin Campbell Photography (905) 372-7435
But they did, and I am forever grateful for that.
Happy Father’s Day to me, and to all of the other dads out there that get an immense feeling of pride and satisfaction when they think of their family. It’s probably the only reason that I’m not a crazy, eight dog owning hermit in central New Brunswick right now.2)Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
There was another time that I was driving taxi, and a man with two drunk, middle aged women got in the cab. He started talking about getting me out of my shirt, and then reached up over the seat and started rubbing my chest. I grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist back and maybe making him squeal a bit. Partly because he startled me, but mostly because he was wildly inappropriate and invading my space.
Him and his cackling hens started calling me a hillbilly gay basher, and a piece of shit homophobe, and when I tried to explain that it would be no different than if they were driving and some dude that they don’t find attractive did that to them, there would be charges laid, but the one chick said that there was no way she would ever stoop so low as to be a cab driver. Anyhow, they wouldn’t shut up or listen, so I kicked their drunk asses out on the curb.
Luckily for them, it was pretty close to a bar, so it was kind of a bonus. Free cab ride, and they got their excitement for the night. I should have had my wits about me and drove them to Precious Corners or something. At least then I would have got a little satisfaction from the deal.
I’m not painting gay men with the same brush2)unless they’re into it and there’s a cool sawbuck in it for me, because the overbearing, lecherous ones are a very small percentage. I just find it odd that people don’t seem to be as offended when a man openly does something to another man that may or may not be welcome. For all I know, it’s a globally accepted practice, and I’m crazy to think that the same courtesies should be offered to everyone, no matter who they are.3)Excluding the Welsh, of course
So what are your thoughts on it? If you are gay, would this offend you, or would it be a thing where it depends on the circumstances? If you are straight, please go out and do some field research for me. Remember to take precautions for your safety.4)mainly condoms, a panic button, and some lube
I’m having a really shitty go of it this time, but of all shitty days and nights, tonight takes the cake for shittiness. I suppose that I have been extra depressed lately, what with the impending move across the country with my family in a bus, so that multiplies the shit exponentially, but holy fuck, really?
My night started as my work day ended, at about 5:00. I went home and finished watching the video that Mrs. B shared on G+. It was about the cool new ways that students are taught in the school district that the girls will be in next year. I tried to watch it while I was getting loaded at the pit, but it was hard with the rumble of diesels and always having to move ahead, so I went home and crashed into the bed under the ceiling fan to cool down and check out the video.
Then the crying started. Not the same crying as the night before, but still a grown man lying in bed with tears streaming down his face.1)luckily the box of crackers was still on the nightstand.
This was me crying about how much further I might have made it in school if we had as many forward thinkers back then, as they do in this area now, and also because I was so happy that people were finally figuring shit out. It’s been a lot of years with the same mentality towards teaching, and nothing was ever getting better. At least not from my perspective.
Now I think there’s hope. Not for the rest of my night, but for our future as a country.
As I finished blubbering, Johnny called to say that he had made these pizza egg rolls and if I wanted to try them, I had better get down there. I then called my sweetest love in the world, and interrupted the birthday party she was attending. She said that she would call me back, so I headed to Chubbie’s to try out these new tidbits.2)They were fucking delicious.
I then went to work to get my phone charger, and figured I’d see if my little truck would miraculously run now. Nope. Thanks for proving that miracles don’t exist, Jesus.
After that, I was going home to grab a shower and hit the sack early, when Johnny called and asked me to get something out of the freezer to thaw for him, I went home, and then in the spirit of helping a friend, I decided to go drop it off to him to save him the trip.
I should have just stayed home.
When I pulled up at the back of the restaurant, I left my car running and my phone on the charger. I ran into the shop and delivered the goods while stealing a pop. I walked back to the door and stopped to shoot the shit for a few minutes. When I went back to the car, I noticed that the door was locked and my phone was gone. Someone had leaned in the open window and snagged it. They also dropped a crumpled up paper towel on the driver’s seat.
I immediately assumed it was our friend David, because that would be a prank that he would do, but it wasn’t. I got John’s phone, called it uselessly and logged in to my Google account, so I could track it. It was one street over, so I took off down the alley, ready to punch the first person I saw with it, but there was nobody there. I met John as I was walking back, and then his phone rang. Someone had brought the phone into the pizza shop.
I went back and the guy was still there, and pretty hammered. He told us that he saw a drunk native guy grab it out of my car and he followed him until the guy threw it away by the TD bank. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt, even though I am pretty sure he was the one that stole it, so I bought him a pizza.
It is sad that people find it so easy to blame the drunk native people, even though this guy was a drunk whitey that didn’t have enough money for a pop. He was talking about how he had just came from his buddy’s place after helping him change the springs in his drag car, which brought me back to the paper towel. When I looked at it, I immediately thought that it was mine from when I was working on the truck earlier. Most guys will recognize a dry paper towel that was used to wipe rust and dirt off of a pair of hands.
The problem was that I had used wet wipes, not paper towel.
Oh well, I got my phone back, and someone hungry got to eat. I left for that shower and my bed, and then this happened.
Yep. While I was frantically racing around looking for my phone, my tire was getting flatter. I went around the corner and it poked a bunch of holes in the inside sidewall. Yahoo.
The good news is that I will be getting new tires, and not a new phone. The bad news is that I have to get new tires, then new studded tires this winter. I was hoping these would last, but with an eternal slow leak on the driver’s side, and now this, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. Tires are pretty important.
Oh, and when I got home, the post I had been writing offline got hidden in the computer during important updates. I’ll have to spend a bit of time looking for that I guess. Or try to rewrite.
Ah well, hopefully your day went smoother than mine.
So, I have a bunch of things on my mind, but as fast as I had internet at the place I’m living, it was taken away from me.
That leaves me to try and blog from my phone, and that shit doesn’t jibe well with me.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t have a choice. I totally do, but involves effort, and I am running a little shy on that. I had just enough energy left when I got home to change the mud flap that I had torn off earlier, go to No Frills for a bunch of frozen food, and put a pizza in the oven.
It was pretty good, even though I didn’t hear the timer and left it in for a few extra minutes.
Well, pretty good for a frozen pizza. It doesn’t compare to a Bellybuster with thick cut onions and peppers from Chubbie’s, but it held it’s own in the freezer section.
My days have been quite full lately. Any time that I haven’t been working, has been spent with friends and enjoying the beautiful weather that we’ve been having since I got back. It’s hard to believe that three weeks ago saw almost a foot of snow here. I don’t think that there’s been an inch of rain or day time temperatures below 15°C in the last two weeks, so that’s pretty sweet.
I have a lot of things that I want to write about, and I hope that I get a chance soon, as a few of them are important to me. I just don’t feel right about text typing them into my phone as I lay in bed. Call me old fashioned if you want to.
Speaking of old fashioned, does anyone know a blacksmith? I am thinking of letting one bleed me, to see if it helps my arthritic hip and shoulder. I read in an old book that it will cure what ails you.
So that’s it for me. I’m starting to doze off, and need to get some sleep tonight. I might have to actually work tomorrow.
P.S. I am just publishing this now, because I don’t know how to schedule things on the phone.
Can’t you almost feel the soil between your fingers?
Yeah, that’s right. I love a farming game, and I’m not ashamed of it. It brightens up my days.
It also gives me hope for my career as a farmer.
I can’t wait for the day that I can grow crops, raise livestock, and mine my own land. It will allow me to create artisan goods that I can then sell at my roadside stand and command premium prices. Serious prices. Check it out.
Muffins are fucking easy to make, and that isn’t even a really nice coal and iron bracelet. I’ll be rich!
You just find the duct tape, paint, and other shit in trunks and tool boxes, or somebody gives it to you for selling them a bunch of your overpriced junk. You then sell it for fifty times what it’s worth. It’s fucking insane in the membrane.
People always ask me why I would want to be a farmer. I usually just stare back at them in disbelief and show them my garden.
See that in the top right corner? Diamonds and gold, bitches. Farm on.
In case you need it translated, I’ll give you a little glimpse at what we’re talking about here.
Yeah, I really can sell a three pack of olives for $82. Half a cacao pod for $86? All fucking day, buddy.
I’m probably going to need a greenhouse for some of this stuff, only because I think that some of it might need longer than the 45 day growing season that we have, but I’m pretty sure that I’ll be able to afford one after I sell a bunch of strawberries at $50 a piece. Booyah, motherfuckers. Getting paid like Tyson. I’m going to be making it rain at the Pro Hardware when I’m picking up the stakes for my over abundant tomato plants.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not just in it for the money; that’s just a bonus. I’m also in it for the satisfaction of seeing an odd array of people happy after shopping in my town. They are just strolling about and buying locally sourced products in a quaint setting; it just warms my heart.
If you really go out of your way to help them, they will reward you with things that are sometimes priceless. Like a bolt.
Woo hoo! Now I can finish upgrading my barn. Thanks, pretty lady.
Another great thing about farming is how willing the local kids are to help you succeed. Take Tom for instance.
What I want are some marker stakes, Tom. Can you get me some? Of course you can’t, you simple freak.
He will run and find you all kinds of things. Not the things you want the most, but for nine diamonds a day, he sure makes your life easier.
Doesn’t he look like he should be playing Dueling Banjos?
I know that $1087 looks like a lot of money for nine lollipops, but I can turn them around easily for over three grand. It’s all organic sugar and colouring.
Anyhow, as fun as Hay Day is for me, the best part is that my sister is in my neighbourhood too. So is Alice, but she never talks to us in chat, so we think that she’s an asshole.1)I’m just guessing that we both do. We love to help each other out, and it’s really nice to be able to shoot the shit with her when we end up on at the same time.
When I got home at Easter, our other sister and Mrs. Birdman, in a fit of jealousy, started calling us farm nerds, because we were doing some insider trading at the table. They called themselves Rebel Nerds, obviously because they were upset at not being invited to our neighbourhood, and then they teased us relentlessly.
It was like water off a duck’s back with us, as we are emotionally secure in our Hay Day bliss, but I did secretly want to hear them beg to be let in.
On Easter morning, after hearing about how the rebel nerds were all chummy and shit, I sent an Easter card to celebrate the death walk of old Jebus.
That sealed it for us being the coolest nerd team in the family, and it also made us remember to feed our cows.
P.S. If you’re active on Hay Day and like the derby, come and look us up. Here’s where to find us.