Bomb Shelter

I’ve always liked the idea of having a secret control room.  I would probably just do the exact same thing I do now (drink coffee, explore the internet, listen to the radio) but I just feel like it would be cooler if I was doing all that underground.  My husband and I have this life goal to someday end up with some mountain property and a modest cabin-like house.  We’ve already added on a greenhouse, pottery studio, and marijuana garden so I don’t see why we can’t have a control room too.

What I would have in my control room:

• My computer, except the screen would be inside the wall- Or I could join the rest of the world and get a flat screen.
• Blue and purple lighting (to give it a secretive feel- maybe blue and purple walls and regular lighting, I don’t know).
• A huge world map- on this map I would place push pins into various countries I plan to visit/ have visited.
• A laser pen (so I can point to the map when sitting at my computer console).
• Glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling, accurately replicating real constellations (I just happen to like those glow in the dark stars wherever I go).
• A coffee maker.
• A telephone that only dials out.
• Miscellaneous conspiracy items- books, an “I Want to Believe” poster, an alien assistant, newspaper clippings, etc.

I just feel like this would really go well with the rest of the place (in our heads) that we’ve planned out.  And I could continue with my usual plotting without being bothered.  I would maybe let people into my control room, but there would be strict requirements and a cornea scan. 

It’s pronounced “new-clee-ar”

Not “nuke-U-lar.”  One would think that after nearly eight horrific years in office somebody would inform President Bush of the correct pronunciation of his favorite word.  This country is doomed, and I can support that with the following evidence:

I was robbed of my judgment for about 10 minutes last night and decided to create a MySpace account.  I wanted to be friends with the lead singer of Days of the New for some reason, and figured I could do it on MySpace- like I said, lack of judgment.  But as I was filling out the required fields, I got down to the language selection.  ‘American’ or ‘Canada-English.’  Are you kidding me?  It was then that I realized what the collective intelligence level of MySpace members is, and decided I did not want to be associated with a group of the population who thinks they speak ‘American’ and not ‘English.’  This is why I hate everyone.  I’m serious, when I meet someone I hate them first and then decide after time whether or not I like them.  I hate by default, and am usually accurate because most people I come across are ignorant, rude, lack empathy, and when asked what language they speak probably answer ‘American.’

But that’s just me on some days.  I guess I’m not always hateful, just getting carried away :)  I’m actually quite happy because after being stranded in the Toronto airport (an excellent place to go if you need a heaping helping of rudeness and stupidity) for 24 hours I am finally home.  My dogs are here, my family is here, and my mom is taking me shopping- so besides the fact that I’m convinced the world is going to hell in a handbasket, at least I can get a new purse and some jeans before we go.

Homecoming

Yay!  After three long months as an unemployed immigrant wife I get to return home for a three week visit.  Back to one dollar bills, rudeness, Chicago accents, and Fahrenheit and pounds. 

I’m leaving my husband alone here for those three weeks -he’s in school so he can’t come with me- but it’s probably a good thing.  He has final exams coming up and it’s just better if I’m not here distracting him.  I have a feeling I will have to leave the country whenever he has a test!

I hate flying though, I’m always on the plane full of babies or people who scream when we hit a little turbulance- OH, or last time when I got stuck sitting next to a couple of hardcore Christians, that was fun.  But I’ll stick it out.

But that’s boring, I’m going home for the holidays just like everyone else in the world.  I feel bad leaving my hubby though, because I think the only food he can prepare is cereal and I’m pretty sure he will go to school wearing my clothes before he starts doing his own laundry.  Good wife that I am, I have a freezer full of meals for him and got all the laundry done.  He’s stocked up, just like tv when the mom goes away and has every pre-made meal labelled in tupperware with cooking instructions printed neatly on the front.

I may not be working yet, but I’m learning the ways of the 1950’s woman, and I figure that will be useful someday.Anyway, some things I’m excited to do when I’m home:

1.  Go shopping!  Good Lord I have not gone shopping without guilt for so long!  And my wardrobe shows it.  I’ve saved for this, and I am coming back to Canada in style.  No more crap clothes I’ve had since high school, and for God’s sake I need a pair of pants that fit.

2.  See my mommy, daddy, and brother- who I miss terribly!  I’ve been around inlaws for the past 4 months and even though I love them and get a long with them, I can’t really be myself 100% around them.

3.  My dogs!  They’re spoiled, annoying, and only care about food- but I can’t wait to see them and tease them- especially the little one, she’s a bitch.

4.  Seeing my friend Megan, she’s pretty much my only friend who hasn’t stabbed me in the back or developed a cocaine addiction, and she likes to shop, so I will enjoy her company while I’m home.

5.  Working out- my dad works as a massage therapist at a huge workout facility, and got me a pass for when I’m home.  I am going to do every day, get ripped, and come back and kick my husband’s ass.  I’m talking Chyna muscles here.

6.  Having a car- yes I do have one, but it’s a Saturn and would never survive here.  Too much snow, not enough salt, and way too cold.  Oh- and the car has bald tires and is missing a window, so it’s not really worth it to have it here, but oh dear is it a pain in the ass not having the vehicle!  I’m sure I will someday share my public transit stories, after the therapy.

7.  Seeing my extended family, and eating their food.

8.  NOT being a housewife for three weeks.  Fuck cooking, fuck laundry, and fuck paying bills.

 

 

Sorry… but I’m not sorry

Disclaimer:  I would never want anyone to be hurt or killed by fires….

BUT, I have a hard time feeling sorry for the residents of Malibu, whose mansions and beach houses are burning into oblivion as I type this.  Of course, I would never want any person hurt or killed by those fires, but am I the only one out there who really doesn’t feel like it is a huge tragedy if Olivia Newton-John’s house and the Promises Rehab Facility perish?  I think every celebrity/ rich person/ rich institution will recover just fine after these fires.  Actually, I’m kind of hoping the fires make their way to every ridiculous/ overdone/ wasteful mansion in that area.  Exuse me for sounding bitter, but as I sit here, coming close to month three with no couch to sit on in my tiny apartment, I am WISHING I had a mansion- even if it was engulfed in flames.  So I don’t want to hear any celebrities complaining.

UPDATE:  I’m with Jamie Lee Curtis.