Bird is the Word

I'll get in to why I posted this a little later. For now, enjoy the crazy.

....I Guess I Shouldn't Have Worn That Dress

I was digging through some old papers the other day and found a copy of a police report I had filed 4 or 5 years ago.

I had been dating a guy I'd met through mutual friends. We actually all used to get together weekly and I'd known him for a few years at this point. Back then, I had been in a few brutal relationships and was quite pleased with the fact that this particular guy was a bit of a geek. I thought he'd be a fairly safe bet.

About 8 months in, we got into an argument. Now, I should mention that I was wearing underwear at the time. (It was later brought to my attention that it is an important part of the story.) Anyway, the argument progressed and found me lying on my back on my bed with him on top of me, his hand squeezing my face to open my mouth to allow him to kiss me and his knees prying my legs apart. Luckily for me he only weighed around 130 lbs and I managed to throw him off and kick him in the head when he flew back.

I can guarantee you that if he had weighed even 50 lbs more, it would have ended differently.

A few days later, I went to the police and spoke to the officer who was the go-to guy for sexual assaults. I told him that I didn't want to press charges, but I did want to make a statement in the event that he tried something like that with someone else, (at which point I would agree to press charges). He seemed really sympathetic while he took my report.

I later applied for a copy of the report. I was curious to see what it contained and appalled when I read what he had written.

It stated, and I quote, that I was "parading around in my underwear". As if me being in my underwear was asking for what had happened. When I first read it, I was absolutely crushed. Finding it again a few days ago made me angry. I plan to call the commissioner and file a formal complaint.

I wonder how many other women he has made to feel that way. In all honesty, it shouldn't matter if I was standing on my head naked... if I say no, it ends there. But I guess to this particular male officer, I was only asking for it.

Title link: Sex Type Thing by Stone Temple Pilots

About My (Grand)Father

My Grandfather was alot of things to alot of different people. Like my Grandmother always said, I will focus on what he was to me.

Out of all the stories I've ever heard about him, the one I will relay to you now makes me the most proud.

Grandpa was young when he went to the war. I've heard one of the main reasons he joined was to eat and get away from the situation he was in... I never asked him why he joined. Speaking about the war was far too difficult for him.

In the midst of all the chaos, he decided he needed to have a peaceful cigarette. He made his way to a very large tree and leaned against it and lit up. A few moments later he heard a noise on the opposite side of the tree. It was an enemy soldier, no older than he, who apparently had the same idea. Neither raised a gun at the other. They nodded and went back to their side of the tree and when they were finished they merely walked off in separate directions.

Grandpa's passing was one of the most difficult things I've had to deal with, equalled only to Grandma's. Everything happened so fast, in truth, I don't even think I've really processed it. Today is the first day I've had the time to slow down and take a breath.

One of the most troubling things, to me, is the fact that certain members of the family chose this particular time to get extremely vocal about their "true" feelings about him... and I find this completely disrespectful.

I am not about to apologise for the relationship I had with him, a relationship that other people would have liked to have had but didn't for one reason or another. As many of you know, he was the only Father I had growing up. It is so utterly disrespectful to tell me how little you care about his death, or him at all for that matter... because I do.

I'd like the time to grieve, rather than be angry at the problems and comments some people have created. Granted, there are negative things to be said about him, but which one of us can honestly say that nothing negative could be said about us after we are gone? And seeing as we would appreciate people focusing on our positive aspects, shouldn't we extend the same respect to everyone else?

Grandpa was the man who drove me to school everyday, (except when I insisted on walking),who would let me listen to the Stones in his car and try to sing along with, "Get Off of My Cloud", who threatened to hang boys by their balls from the clothes line when they called the house for me when I was 13, who told me (upon having my 4th child): "Oh well, atleast you won't be bored", who sang "You Are My Sunshine" to me at my Grandmother's wake, who stood in the hospital room crying when I OD'ed on Percocet at 13, whose smell of Old Spice I will miss for the rest of my life, and who I would give anything in the world, (aside from my own family), to hold again just for a second... just to smell him and hold his hand and make sure he knows how much I absolutely adore and love him and how my life will never be the same, and a little empty, without him.

It took everything I had to try and hold it together during his service... to not scream and beg for him to just get up and have things the way they were... and that is the way it should be. And my sadness after his passing could never equal the joy that my Grandparents brought into my life.

I just hope they know that...

Meet Your Meat

I used to be a vegetarian and have serisouly been considering going back. Here's why:

Check out Morrissey's thoughts on the deal here

The First Flashback

For a while, when I was just about 13, my Mother, her insane cocaine addicted boyfriend Rick and I lived in a hotel in Niagara Falls. (For those of you who don't already know, I was born and mostly raised in Niagara Falls, Ontario). We actually lived in the 'deluxe suite', (term used EXTREMELY loosely), but it did have 2 separate bedrooms, a washroom and a closet kitchen - no exaggeration, you opened a closet and it had a bar fridge with a hot plate over top of it. Our suite was just above the office, you can see it in the photo above.

Now, I am going to have loads of stories about this place. Some of them hilarious, some of them horrific, but for now I am just going to introduce the cast of characters... these people are way too strange to be fictional. I promise you, everything I will relay through this blog is true.

Kenny - (he has since passed on, so I feel ok about using his real name), was one of my favourites. A long time coke and heroin addict, he had most of the fingers shot off of one hand by an ex-girlfriend. Kenny was quite old-school and followed old street codes. He was insanely protective of me and would never allow me to see him use drugs. He was always questioning me about the behaviour of the other guys who lived in the motel. If he had found out that any of them were being pigs, he would have gone postal on them. He had a really sweet heart and smiled constantly. He was the only person I've ever seen to get charged for Drunk Walking from the Denny's across the street.... all he wanted was a burger.

Long Hair - He was about 6'2, had hair down the centre of his back, a long beard and always wore a trucker's cap. Another really nice one, always respectful and never perverted with me. Because he had a warrant for his arrest, you'd have to use a special knock to gain entry into his room on a Sunday... (he was always convinced that the police preferred to pick up the people with warrants on a Sunday.)

Teddy - Teddy must have been in his early 20s. I think he had some sort of neurological problems because his hands were always half-shut. He was extremely depressed and admitted to attempting to drown himself in his own bathtub. I am not quite sure how one would attempt something like that... which is why the attempt was unsuccessful, no doubt. Most people in the Motel called him 'Chicken Choker'... a joke in reference to his hands. I'd never heard him speak of his family... pretty sure he didn't have anyone to talk to.

Glamour - This one was 27 and was absolutely in love with himself. He constantly wore Drakkar Noir and everyone called him 'Glamour' because of the amount of time he spent doing his hair. It was feathered. He had no qualms about sleeping with young girls, but we'll get into that another time.

Carradine - He kept to himself aside from the week of the full moon, when he could be found in the middle of the parking lot doing midnight Tai Chi and preaching about the end of the world in the year 2000. If he didn't go kamakaze at the end of '99 he must have jumped on the 2012 bandwagon.

W - was an old friend of my mom and dad's. He was an addict, like many of the people who hung around Main & Center st in the 70s. Like Kenny, he was always respecful with me and slightly angry that I was so young and living in that place. He also did needles, and would give me a few bucks to run down to McDonald's and grab him those old plastic coffee spoons..

Mary - was a coke addicted prostitute. I'm always one who will defend prostitutes, after all, well adjusted women with self-esteem and healthy childhoods don't end up on a street corner, but this girl was an asshole.

Tallboy - A 20ish guy who lived in the basement of the motel. He had about as much respect for young girls as Glamour did.

Coke Head Rick - My mother's asshole addict boyfriend. He'd beat the shit out of her and then find anything he could to cut himself open... chest, arms, legs... it didn't matter. His goal was to hit the hospital and avoid prison. I've got many stories about this guy, but no time for him today.

Psychward - Tallboy's brother. He was in and out of the psychward, which was surprising to me after meeting the other occupants to the Motel...

I found the motel on Expedia... the reviews made me laugh. I'll share some with you...

“This is an absolute dive!”

“Avoid this place like the plague”

“WORST EVER – you will end up catching

some HIV/STD”

“AWESOME, if you like living in public

washroom environments”

“Wouldn’t stay here for a million dollars”

If I Have A Stroke, This Is Why

Is it too much to ask that people's facebook status' make sense? It drives me crazy! I've actually deleted friends from my account because I can't stand to attempt to decipher what they are trying to express....

Seriously, what the hell does this say:

is declating my ager..kiding, but im mad at my Kimmy mc Kim kim..ive been in kim e/ds toooooooooooooooooo long...waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..hope you see this whore love ya

Diamonds in the Rough

We, (the fiance & I), have made it as finalists in the Diamonds in the Rough contest in the Abbotsford News. Each week the paper will release some photos they took of us, (here's hoping for 1 chin), and answers to some of the questions we answered.

The public can vote online and through the form in the paper to determine who stays in the competition, and yes I am asking you to help out! Each day you can vote for the couple you would like to eliminate, (please don't choose us -- Meghann & Alvaro). The winning couple is awarded 20,000$ in uncut diamonds which we would then sell to pay for a small wedding and a van with fewer than 265KM on it...

Usually I am not the sort who would publicly beg for money, but 20K would SO help us out right now. The good news for you voters is that a) Voting is worldwide and b) voters can win prizes by voting and commenting.

We promise to pay it forward, but win or lose we are still quite lucky to have each other.

A Quick Note

From this point on, all of my entry titles will link to a little mood music. More often than not, it will be related to what I am talking about. However, you may want to right click and open in a new window, we both know you wouldn't want to miss anything.

-M

"Footstands Are Easy"

A few months back, my youngest son, K, was extremely excited to present to me his newest realisation. His sister had been doing some hand stands over the last few days and he had been trying to imitate her, to no avail. Rather than feeling jealous or inadequate because he couldn't do it, he said to me, "Mom, I can't do handstands, but I can do footstands! Footstands are easy."

At 5 years old, my son had learned how to appreciate the things he can do and not obsess over those he cannot. He wasn't comparing himself to anyone who could do the things he could not, nor was he allowing it to affect his self-esteem. He was just happy with the things he could do well.

At this point I also realised two things: I need to learn how to do that and I have to use all of my power and energy to ensure that he never loses it.

A Letter to my Children Part 1

D,

I am so incredibly proud of you. In your 10 years on this planet, you've begun to question and examine things that most people my age are afraid to touch upon. Unfortunately, your desire to please those important to you is making it difficult for you to express yourself. Trust me when I tell you that you only need to worry pleasing yourself. Regardless of who you are today and who you may become I will always support you because you've got a great head on your shoulders. It isn't necessary to figure things out right away - you've got your whole life ahead of you so please enjoy the journey. Study, read, ask questions, try new things, - jump in head first if you have to. If you fall, stand up and brush yourself off, content with the knowledge that you are not afraid to explore and learn from things that might not have turned out the way you wanted them to. Yesterday you told me that you want to be like me, it was incredibly sweet but please don't. Be better. You can be so much better.

I was young when I had you and I am sorry for some of the decisions I have made since. Being the first child, we are learning together.... you how to be who you want to be and me - how to be the mother you deserve. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to grow with you. I truly love you more than, I am sure, you realise and I am so excited to see the amazingly brilliant adult you will become.

Please take your time with that.

N,

You have a very sweet soul... the kind of soul I wish I was born with. Sensitivity like yours is rare in men, sadly. Realise that this is a strength and not a weakness. Always the first with a compliment and a hug, your ability to read people's emotions is a gift. Your passion and sensitivity are greatly needed in the world today. If at 8 you are mindful of those less fortunate, at 18 you will be well on your way to doing amazing things. Sometimes bad things happen to good people.... don't let them change your heart. Your smile is contagious and your charisma enormous, use it to change the world.

It's ok to be angry and hurt, don't beat yourself up over it. It is how you conduct yourself while experiencing these emotions that matters. I fear that you may let biology define you. Who he is is not who you will be. I worry that you have learned how to feel insecure, worried and rejected from watching me feel the same...

I am so thankful that you are learning how to be proud of yourself because you absolutely should be. I know that you will grow to be a wonderful man: caring, respectful and loving. People may hurt you, but don't let them break you. You have far, far, FAR too much to offer.