I has a new blog. It involves dresses. Please go and look at it and tell your friends. Updates daily for one hundred days!
My cat, Big Nose, unexpectedly passed away today. He will be sorely missed. I love you Big Nose.
I had an idea. I own over 100 dresses. I thought I’d wear a different dress every day for 100 days since I actually have the ability to do so, though some of the dresses are a weeee (okay what’s the big version of weeee) bit too small so I’d really have to count all of the dresses that fit and see if it adds up to 100. Anyway so I’d thought I’d do this, photograph myself everyday and blog about each one. So I googled 100 dresses in 100 days and found someone already did it, over a year ago and so yeah, it’s been done. It was done pretty well but my dress taste is pretty different than said bloggers dress taste, as is my overall aesthetic. So the question is do I embark on this endeavor and try to improve upon it? Hmm…the other dress blog.
And now here’s a completely random picture of an owl that I took at a Barnes and Noble one night.
The break- in occurred early in the day on July 4th, our nations independence day. Apparently squirrels all over America are also celebrating their independence by breaking into homes. The Lalonde household fell prey to a squirrel break-in via their kitchen window. Luckily they were home and no one was harmed.
People had warned the Lalondes time and time again not to feed the squirrels so close to their home, but Mrs. Lalonde’s love of the small creatures was without boundaries, or so she thought. While relaxing on the couch the Lalondes heard a ruckus in the kitchen.
“We thought it was one of our clumsy cats falling into the sink,” stated Mrs. Lalonde, with a sharp hint of glee in her eyes.
What they found instead was a squirrel knocking over a bunch of window plants and chowing down on some potted basil. The criminal squirrel entered the house through a small hole he had chewed in the screen. Upon being discovered the squirrel in question fled the scene through his original entry point.
When questioned about the incident Mr. Lalonde stated, “He was actually sitting on the corner of the sink, I’m going to have to install metal screens now, vinyl screens are no good bul.”
Mrs. Lalonde insists this event will not deter her from feeding her beloved squirrels, though she has since moved the basil outside and intends to plant it in the ground, safely away from the kitchen window.
Maalox the squirrel could not be located for comment on the incident, leading squirrel authorities to believe he may have been the culprit or at least involved in the basil incident. Due to personality traits they are currently leaning towards Steven Andrew Orsborn the squirrel as their primary suspect. Flea the cat is totally pissed that he slept through the incident.
Hmmm. I’m always updating on a rabbit rabbit. Fitting. So months have gone by and nothing. I have definitely been slacking. I need to remedy that right quick. It’s been almost a year since we went on our Nova Scotia Moto trip and I haven’t even finished the blogs. Woe is me. I’ll have to get on that since the last three days include some of the best and worst times of the trip. But for now I just have some pretty rad pictures of my friend Maalox. The grocery store is out of raw peanuts right now (insert outrage here) so I had to splurge and give him almonds and pecans from my baking cupboard. He rewarded me with some up close and personal time this morning so I thought I’d share. I am hoping to befriend two more yard squirrels so that I can name them after my friends Steven Andrew Orsborn and Jared. They both got the result “squirrel” in the cheesy facebook patronus quiz. I was totally jealous. We currently have one non-Maalox visitor, a super skiddish squirrel that hurriedly steals nuts and runs away, he’ll definitely be Steven Andrew.
For now here’s the king of our backyard, Maalox…
I have always wanted my very own backyard with my very own window with my very own sink so that I can do dishes and watch the backyard shenanigans. I’m pretty ecstatic that I have that now. Sometimes really awesome stuff happens in my yard. Other times pigeons come and poop all over everything and squirrels eat all of my cherry tomatoes. I forgive it all for days like these…
Two catbirds showed up one day. They seemed mad at each other.
So one took off to his own section of the fence.
And he found a new friend in the squirrel.
Which eerily resembles the invitations to Michael’s and my wedding. Weird…
And to top it all off Maalox settled in for a cute nap.
I hope you enjoyed the first episode of the backyard, in photographs.
Not to be all goth and quote The Crow, but whatever, it fits the situation.
Nova Scotia Trip Day Four, Tuesday’s tragic rain.
We knew we would never make our destination with Jared’s bike in the shape it was in. His back wheel to be specific was all jacked up, it was super wobbly because he had a broken spoke. Luckily I took a few notes on this topic because a. I am very forgetful and b. I really don’t know a damn thing about motorcycles or wheels or really fixing anything in general. I will usually chime in to a broken motorcycle conversation with “clean the carburetors” because I’ve heard it discussed so many times. Anyway it was actually not pouring ass rain when we woke up so we packed up our stuff among red squirrels chirping their faces off. So cute, not so much friendly. They’re like little alien squirrels that scavenge campsites once you leave. Awesome. I didn’t get any pictures. Damn.
So Jared took off first and we met him at the hardware store and with a pocket butane torch, needle nose pliers, electrical tape, tipman line clippers and a turn buckle Jared’s bike was temporarily fixed and he was able to ride it for 70 miles.
This was partially thanks to a very nice Canadian man that drove to his house to get a tool we needed. I of course had nothing to do with any of this except to take notes and pictures of it all. I, always the Suzy Homemaker, went across the street to Tim Horton’s to get coffee and bagels and donuts. Tim Horton’s is like a Dunkin Donuts but sort of better. I kind of fell in love with them.
I didn’t really like my donut so I gave it to Spano.
We rode and rode and rode and it poured and poured and poured. Every so often we’d get a reprieve from the rain only to have it pour even harder minutes later. We were all wet in awful places. Rain suits and waterproof items were failing at every turn. Eventually we stopped in Port Hastings at the welcome center and Spano put his phone in his pocket only to realize that the pocket of his raincoat was full of water. The center had dial up internet access so we got our fixes and checked the weather to find that we were basically one with what I think was Hurricane Bertha. I didn’t write the name down and I’m not that great at researching Hurricanes.
Anyways with great misery we climbed back on the bikes for more chaffing and brutality. Somewhere along the way we stopped at a weird little rest stop and I saw green maraschino cherries. Weird.
Finally after four days of pouring, miserable rain we arrived at our destination, Cheticamp, and were met with sun shining on mirrored water, and a gorgeous mountain landscape.
Jared stopped to take pictures of the beauty. I asked him for a picture of it and this is what he gave me.
So in return Spano and I retaliated with these:
We rode directly into the park and encountered the Cabot Trail. Even the tiniest bit of it was magical and badass. We decided to camp there for the night despite the fact that it is retarded expensive to camp there and they don’t seem to enjoy people on motorbikes so much. Or at least the lady that took our money didn’t. I find this especially stupid since the Cabot Trail is a well known motorcycle hotspot. This was maybe the first time I have ever experienced someone judging me and my friends for riding motorcycles. It was fucking ridiculous. We are not tough. Ok, maybe Wes could be tough but that’s really it. No offense boys. Anyway it was weird and stupid and I hated that lady for making us feel bad. I think I should write her a letter. Bitch. Anyway they made us get three campsites because we had five vehicles and you can only have two vehicles per site. Even though a motorcycle clearly takes up way fucking less space than a fucking car or RV. Assbitch. Seriously. Ugh. So like $85 later we had a shitty campsite where you weren’t allowed to collect wood, you had to buy it. We had spent maybe $30 tops on campsites previously with people letting us stay at one or two sites and being super nice to us. Fuck the Cabot Trail Campsites.
After we set up we traveled back out and checked out another campsite, Plage St-Pierre. It was soooo much better and kind of like something out of Mad Max but with trailers. They were really nice to us and they had a computer and washing machines and access to a beach. We decided to switch the next day. This sort of made us a little bit happy.
After that we went and had hot food at a weird hockey themed restaurant called Le Gabriel. It was good because I was starving and they had baked potatoes. Bill got a lobster, complete with lobster bib. Poor lobster.
After dinner we traveled back to our campsite. Michael and I and drank whiskey and had a fire and dried socks and shoes near it, well tried to anyway. We went to sleep hoping for sunshine and a lovely day riding the Cabot Trail. And it was kind of awesome that we got it…
So the other day I started day four of the nova scotia trip blogs and guess what? My dickhead cat knocked over an entire cup of coffee all over my desk, journal, keyboard, iphone, etc. etc. So instead of finishing it or really even starting it I cleaned coffee off of my life and put paper towels between each page of the travel journal so they’d dry nicely and only have the light remnant of a stain.
Today started with a lazy morning of staying in bed for extra hours, then making coffee, doing dishes and watching the squirrels. This might be one of my favorite parts of my day. I get a little cranky when my routine is off and I miss out on the squirrel and dishes tranquility. I got some pretty sweet pictures today as five squirrels showed up. Word.
The rest of the day was not as peaceful as it involved driving on 76 to the King of Prussia mall so I could exchange some earphones that stopped working and a usb cable that I accidentally dunked in tequilla. After driving in retard strength traffic I found out that registering my fucking applecare online five hours prior wasn’t helpful because it needed to be registered within the first year. Where the fuck it says that is beyond me. Anyways all that stupid driving for nothing. Grrr…
More squirrel pictures to put me in a better mood and a few of me and Flea the coffee knocking over dickhead cat.
Holy shit! look at the sneaky squirrel in the background!
Ok. Now I’ll go to a separate blog for the nova scotia jawn. I gotta keep it pure.
I went dancing last night and it was 80’s night so obviously a girl was doing high kicks and her shoe flew off and hit me in the ear. It went something like this:
Dance, dance, dance, OW! Who’s shoe is this? Yes, it hit me in the ear. Oh, you were doing high kicks, that makes sense then. Yes, no, I’m fine.
I think it’s payback for all those times I smoked on the dance floor and accidentally burned people.
In other news I went back to the gym. My gym is an old lady gym and I kind of love it. They are all so sweet, some of them are even nuns. This fat kid thing is going to be a slow process but they’ll make it easier. I also completed 1.5 hours on the wii fit. I quite enjoy that thing. I am getting really good at the rhythm boxing I must say. I don’t yell at the tv screen anymore.
It was supposed to snow oodles today but it’s just cold instead. I’m going to go see the Wrestler in an hour. I bet it’s good and I’ll like it.
I am boring and sort of hungover.
My cat has a hyperthyroid, high blood pressure and kidney disease. She’s sleeping next me and we’re watching bad reality tv.
I guess I’ll go change out of my sweater since there’s pancake batter all over the sleeve. Yup. I guess I should’ve stopped at the shoe story, it’s all I got right now.
It’s been a while so this is going to be all over the place, like the other day when I tried to eject the beaters from my mixer and accidentally turned it on and then mashed potatoes were everywhere!
It’s almost the New Year, almost the biggest rabbit rabbit of the year. I’ve heard that what you’re doing on New Year’s Eve determines how your year will be. So we’ve decided to spend it in Brooklyn with some friends. It will be different and I will miss my lady friends, and I guess a few of the boys too. But it would be nice if that means that this is the year to go places.
So of course I’m going to make some resolutions. I stuck to last years and haven’t had a cigarette in over 10 months. Woot. But now I’m sort of fat. And not like really fat but fat like I got married and I stopped going to the gym because I didn’t have a dress to psycholy work out to fit into and then Michael had a second surgery and we sat on the couch a lot and I ate a lot. And so I have to force myself to go back to the gym and use my Wii Fit and eat like a normal person, not a snack monster. So that’s goal one. Goal two is to blog more. I know that sounds kind of stupid but it’s been hard to get myself to do little things lately. So hence, less eating, more blogging. I’m taking it back. Me and Oprah. We’re going to fight the fat as the Wii boxing training tells me to do.
Other goals include attempting to be an adult even more by starting a savings account, getting my money in order and not purchasing retarded items, to stop using the word retarded, to get organized, to work on the house renovations like a good girl and to get a new and amazing job, or just a new one, we’ll see. Usually I succeed in one thing per year. So if I have to choose I say fuck financial security. I want to look hot in a bikini.
Oh and since I’ve been such a slacker I never blogged about being featured on a blog. Doh! So go see it🙂
Ok, wow, that really took a lot out of me refiguring out that whole linking thing and I feel like I’m totally boring right now. So I’m going to go try to figure out how to fix my new year’s eve dress so that the boobular area isn’t too big since it’s not bra friendly. And with this whole weight gain thing my boobs are freaking huge so this is an anomaly to me. Or I’m going to tear my insanely messy house upside down looking for that stick on bra I bought for the wedding and didn’t use and some safety pins. I’ll keep you posted on any boob sticker shenanigans. Happy New Years Dickheads.
Ps. I found this blog and think it’s hilarious. You will too. If not, I don’t actually like you and I pretend to probably. Don’t cry.