Hey, have you heard about the new spa treatment that costs - well, not an arm and a leg, but a foot?
You put your feet in a pool of water that is filled with tiny fish, and they nibble the dead skin off your feet.
And you PAY for this!
Gross.
I'm pretty sure the fish would be traumatized if I did that, because I have enormously ticklish feet, and my size 9 feet would be flailing everywhere, like some giant killer monster in their tranquil little pool.
Speaking of feet, my toe still hurts. Thought I'd whine about that a little.
Humility Moment: When I went to my chiropractor and told him I was there for my toe, he looked down at my foot, and said, "Oh yes, that fourth one, eh? It's really swollen or something."
And I said, "Um ... no ... it's the baby toe. My fourth toe always looks like that." (click here if you want to see what he saw)
Oh," he said.
And then we moved on from the fact that my fourth toe is clearly a hideous, misshapen knob, shoved between a perfectly acceptable third toe, and a bruised lump of a baby toe.
And that's my blog post for today.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
bills gone awry
It's been a stressful banking morning, but it turns out it's all my fault.
See, on July 8 I paid my internet/phone bill. Wrote down the confirmation number and everything, as I always do.
Yesterday, I got a polite "you haven't paid your bill" notice, which I opened BEFORE making my morning coffee today. Freaked out inside. Called them, because of course they certainly HAVE received my payment. No, they said, they have not.
Freaked out a little more (still inside - this story only contains implosions, not explosions).
Phoned my bank. Oh yes, they said, you certainly did pay that amount on July 8, but not to your internet/phone company. To your property taxes.
????!!!!!!
I said but this is the account number for my internet/phone company. No it isn't, they said.
(Insert mental implosion here)
Phoned back to my internet/phone company again. No, they said, your bank is right. That is not your account number.
After a number of questions and explanations, I finally realized my account number CHANGED recently, and I missed it. So I had tried to make a payment to a NEW account number, which my bank didn't recognize, but which freakily coincided with my property tax account number, so they sent the payment there.
(sighing)
Apologized profusely to my internet/phone company, who assured me that they could see that I DO normally pay my bills, so I could stop freaking out about what they must think.
Then I phoned City Hall. Told them I made an extra payment to my property taxes, and I would like it back please. No, they said, you did not. Yes I did. No you didn't.
Pause. But this is my account number! No it isn't, not even close.
(insert nuclear-size mental implosion)
Think, Patti, think.....
"Um...could you check my old address, that I moved away from over three years ago?" Certainly, they said. Oh yes, there it is.
I TRIED to pay my internet/phone bill. Instead I paid a property tax bill for a house that someone else owns now. That's a pretty impressive screw-up, I think.
City Hall is sending me a cheque, in about 2 weeks.
And that's an hour and a half of my life that I will never get back.
The moral of the story is: No matter how good you are at paying your bills, always listen to the annoying "are you sure" questions of the automated system. They are there for a reason!!!
Also - always make coffee before opening the mail.
See, on July 8 I paid my internet/phone bill. Wrote down the confirmation number and everything, as I always do.
Yesterday, I got a polite "you haven't paid your bill" notice, which I opened BEFORE making my morning coffee today. Freaked out inside. Called them, because of course they certainly HAVE received my payment. No, they said, they have not.
Freaked out a little more (still inside - this story only contains implosions, not explosions).
Phoned my bank. Oh yes, they said, you certainly did pay that amount on July 8, but not to your internet/phone company. To your property taxes.
????!!!!!!
I said but this is the account number for my internet/phone company. No it isn't, they said.
(Insert mental implosion here)
Phoned back to my internet/phone company again. No, they said, your bank is right. That is not your account number.
After a number of questions and explanations, I finally realized my account number CHANGED recently, and I missed it. So I had tried to make a payment to a NEW account number, which my bank didn't recognize, but which freakily coincided with my property tax account number, so they sent the payment there.
(sighing)
Apologized profusely to my internet/phone company, who assured me that they could see that I DO normally pay my bills, so I could stop freaking out about what they must think.
Then I phoned City Hall. Told them I made an extra payment to my property taxes, and I would like it back please. No, they said, you did not. Yes I did. No you didn't.
Pause. But this is my account number! No it isn't, not even close.
(insert nuclear-size mental implosion)
Think, Patti, think.....
"Um...could you check my old address, that I moved away from over three years ago?" Certainly, they said. Oh yes, there it is.
I TRIED to pay my internet/phone bill. Instead I paid a property tax bill for a house that someone else owns now. That's a pretty impressive screw-up, I think.
City Hall is sending me a cheque, in about 2 weeks.
And that's an hour and a half of my life that I will never get back.
The moral of the story is: No matter how good you are at paying your bills, always listen to the annoying "are you sure" questions of the automated system. They are there for a reason!!!
Also - always make coffee before opening the mail.
Monday, July 21, 2008
all over the map
As I've probably mentioned before, I do enjoy getting the Saturday Spec. I don't care about the paper the rest of the week, but reading the Saturday paper always has a sense of ... luxury, I think. Not bad for less than $2.
Anyway - this story, right here - has me hopping mad. Wait, make that spitting mad. My toe is still a bit tender. Are these people Grade 5 boys, on the school playground, working out the pecking order of their little group? And what the heck is a Superior Court Judge doing, calling the POLICE CHIEF'S OFFICE instead of backing up his monster Cadillac like reasonable people do? How can a SCJ make a snide comment about a city worker using tax payers' money poorly - when that same SCJ - also paid by our taxes, I believe (is that right?) - used up the time of 3 police officers and a municipal supervisor for his petty little annoyance? How is it that the SCJ is actually still proud of his behaviour????
Gah. For the record, I'm sure there was attitude coming from both sides. But I definitely have an opinion on who was the bigger idiot. And I'm guessing that, since this wasn't actually "news" of the global kind, it made the front page of the Saturday Spec for the exact purpose of watching people like me blow up over it.
Which, I guess, is kind of funny. :)
----
On another note....
Last night, in our church service, I was deeply moved. And I'm having a hard time finding words for why, but I'm going to try.
Sunday nights are small, laid-back, relational, less-planned. Times for prayer. Almost anyone can come to the mic and contribute a thought, an encouragement, a Scripture, a prayer, whatever. Last night, someone who has never come up before, came up to talk about some of the struggles they've been facing. Quiet and honest.
And when they finished....we invited people to surround this person in support and prayer (as we so often do). As soon as that invitation was given, people jumped to respond. No one wanted to leave this person hanging out on their own - we all know what that's like - and within seconds, a group of us were there, supporting, praying, standing with them in their struggle.
It impacted me. I was already feeling so thankful for a church where people can be honest about their struggles. But when the response was so quick, so heartfelt, so determined to push back the isolation that sometimes comes in tough times - well - all I could think was, "this is what God looks like".
Anyway - this story, right here - has me hopping mad. Wait, make that spitting mad. My toe is still a bit tender. Are these people Grade 5 boys, on the school playground, working out the pecking order of their little group? And what the heck is a Superior Court Judge doing, calling the POLICE CHIEF'S OFFICE instead of backing up his monster Cadillac like reasonable people do? How can a SCJ make a snide comment about a city worker using tax payers' money poorly - when that same SCJ - also paid by our taxes, I believe (is that right?) - used up the time of 3 police officers and a municipal supervisor for his petty little annoyance? How is it that the SCJ is actually still proud of his behaviour????
Gah. For the record, I'm sure there was attitude coming from both sides. But I definitely have an opinion on who was the bigger idiot. And I'm guessing that, since this wasn't actually "news" of the global kind, it made the front page of the Saturday Spec for the exact purpose of watching people like me blow up over it.
Which, I guess, is kind of funny. :)
----
On another note....
Last night, in our church service, I was deeply moved. And I'm having a hard time finding words for why, but I'm going to try.
Sunday nights are small, laid-back, relational, less-planned. Times for prayer. Almost anyone can come to the mic and contribute a thought, an encouragement, a Scripture, a prayer, whatever. Last night, someone who has never come up before, came up to talk about some of the struggles they've been facing. Quiet and honest.
And when they finished....we invited people to surround this person in support and prayer (as we so often do). As soon as that invitation was given, people jumped to respond. No one wanted to leave this person hanging out on their own - we all know what that's like - and within seconds, a group of us were there, supporting, praying, standing with them in their struggle.
It impacted me. I was already feeling so thankful for a church where people can be honest about their struggles. But when the response was so quick, so heartfelt, so determined to push back the isolation that sometimes comes in tough times - well - all I could think was, "this is what God looks like".
Thursday, July 17, 2008
urban wildlife
Last night, I went outside to cut some herbs for our potatoes. (Spike is absolutely loving this form of potato, which is pretty cool, since he generally is not a big potato fan, unless there is a lot of cheese and bacon bits in the mix.)
I heard a sound behind me, and turned to see something streaking through the yard behind me, and then park itself under the spruce (?) tree in front of the garage. It was a baby bunny!!
All together now - "AAAAAWWWWWW!!!"
Cutest little thing you ever did see, and he just sat there and looked at me, so I sat down on the grass and looked back. The only difference between us was that my nose wasn't twitching. He was only about 6 feet away, sitting in the shade of the tree. Spike eventually came through the gate and managed to come and sit down beside me - still the cutey lil bunny rabbit sat there.
Eventually he turned away, and then did a big stre-e-e-e-e-e-e-tch up on all four legs, with an arched back, and the little tremble you get right at the end of the perfect stretch. Then he sat back down, and proceeded to wash his face, glancing at us every so often. Finally, several minutes later, he waved goodbye, and hopped off.
OK, he didn't wave.
But he's still a cutie!
I heard a sound behind me, and turned to see something streaking through the yard behind me, and then park itself under the spruce (?) tree in front of the garage. It was a baby bunny!!
All together now - "AAAAAWWWWWW!!!"
Cutest little thing you ever did see, and he just sat there and looked at me, so I sat down on the grass and looked back. The only difference between us was that my nose wasn't twitching. He was only about 6 feet away, sitting in the shade of the tree. Spike eventually came through the gate and managed to come and sit down beside me - still the cutey lil bunny rabbit sat there.
Eventually he turned away, and then did a big stre-e-e-e-e-e-e-tch up on all four legs, with an arched back, and the little tremble you get right at the end of the perfect stretch. Then he sat back down, and proceeded to wash his face, glancing at us every so often. Finally, several minutes later, he waved goodbye, and hopped off.
OK, he didn't wave.
But he's still a cutie!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
yes, brie please
I thought you'd like to see a picture of my foot.
As gravity kicked in, I reached for the counter to stop my fall. Missed. Caught the counter with my chin instead. My fall came to an end, when my knee crash-landed on the metal transition that marks the spot where our kitchen floor drops a couple of inches to our dining room / computer room floor.
It's hard to tell in the picture, but there is some serious colour happening in the area of my swollen, mishapen baby toe. I didn't want to say anything, because I don't want to appear whiny. But I'm gonna.
Last Friday night, all was going well, at 7:16 p.m. I was playing Boggle on the computer, just before pulling a cake out of the oven for company that would be arriving at 7:30 p.m. (That's right - I made a cake. What about it?)
At 7:17 p.m., the buzzer went off for the cake. I stood, turned, swung my left foot around to step towards the kitchen, and promptly went blind. This was due to the blinding pain in my baby toe as it connected with some unknown, immovable object, probably a piece of Spike's gear, that looks vaguely like this:
My baby toe is particularly vulnerable to stubbing, ever since I thoroughly dislocated it as a child. I'd be happy to tell you that story sometime. For now, let's get back to Friday's moment of blinding pain, shall we?
As gravity kicked in, I reached for the counter to stop my fall. Missed. Caught the counter with my chin instead. My fall came to an end, when my knee crash-landed on the metal transition that marks the spot where our kitchen floor drops a couple of inches to our dining room / computer room floor.
(Yes, it's a dining room / computer room. Why not?)
And then I hollered. Perhaps you heard me?
Spike came running, and while I was grateful for his desire to help, I threatened dire consequences if he so much as considered touching my baby toe. He felt it was in his best interest to comply, and ran for ice instead.
Then our company showed up, and I whined a little, and then sat for the rest of the night with a bag of ice on my toes while we visited.
Saturday, I really couldn't walk without a noticeable limp. Called Telehealth, called the on-call doctor, iced and Tylenol-ed myself, and pondered my incredible clutz factor.
Sunday started better, but as you know, Sundays require me to be on my feet, and by the end of the day, I was achin' a little. No whining though.
Monday was really not bad.
Tuesday was tolerable.
Wednesday - that's today - I went outside to water my 3 hanging plants that don't catch the rain. In my bare feet. And as I turned to come back inside, my evil cat (you can read more about him here, here and here, for starters) tried to dart out the door. I swerved to miss his furry little body, the screen door swung shut on my derriere, propelling me forward, and as my body gracefully flew through the doorway, the door frame made a solid connection with - you guessed it - that same toe.
No hollering this time. Just a deadly silence as I waited, once again, for my vision to return.
So yeah. I'm whinin'. And yes, I would like some cheese with that whine. Brie would be nice.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
mint tea and popcorn
Saturday, I made myself some tea from my chocolate mint plant. It was pretty good, although just tasted like regular mint tea. I don't taste any chocolate at all. Maybe if I break up some dark chocolate and stir it in ... But why do that? Just eat the chocolate and forget the tea altogether, I say!
Actually I've been using my herbs a few times this week. They are sooooo good. It's pretty amazing how much flavour is in them when they were growing just a few minutes before you eat them. Sauteed chicken in fresh rosemary - mmmm. Boiled potatoes tossed with fresh basil, parsley, and chives - mmmm.
Monday, we went to see Wall-E. It was pretty cute and fun, although not amazingly clever or anything. My favourite moment was a silent one in the movie. During this silent moment, the little tot in front of us crawled up on his Dad's lap, and announced with great urgency -
"Dere's .... dere's .... dere's some POPCORN IN MY TEETH!!!"
LOL!
Actually I've been using my herbs a few times this week. They are sooooo good. It's pretty amazing how much flavour is in them when they were growing just a few minutes before you eat them. Sauteed chicken in fresh rosemary - mmmm. Boiled potatoes tossed with fresh basil, parsley, and chives - mmmm.
Monday, we went to see Wall-E. It was pretty cute and fun, although not amazingly clever or anything. My favourite moment was a silent one in the movie. During this silent moment, the little tot in front of us crawled up on his Dad's lap, and announced with great urgency -
"Dere's .... dere's .... dere's some POPCORN IN MY TEETH!!!"
LOL!
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
i believe i can fly!
Yesterday, I trampolined. With NJ (Niece J) and NTY (Nephew The Younger) and my Mom, aka "Nana".
We were out at NJ and NTY's new house in the country, and it turns out that when you leave the city limits, your inhibitions are left behind too, and you can be almost 38 years old, flying around on a trampoline, having an intergenerational game of "Butt Wars".
What's that? You're not familiar with Butt Wars?
I can't imagine why. Where's your inner child? Oh, that's right, it's trapped in the city limits.
OK, here is how Butt Wars works.
Everyone jumps on the trampoline, feeling graceful, looking awkward. Oh wait, it's only the grown-ups that look awkward. Never mind.
So we all jump ... and then in mid-jump, you change position so that your next bounce is on your derriere ... your be-hind ... your "butt" as it were.
Here's the clincher - you can't just LAND. You must bounce, change position in mid-jump again, and land on your feet ... then on your butt ... then on your feet ... and whoever can do it the longest wins.
I think NTY is still bouncing. Nana and I were eliminated very quickly.
But still, it was really a lot of fun!
We were out at NJ and NTY's new house in the country, and it turns out that when you leave the city limits, your inhibitions are left behind too, and you can be almost 38 years old, flying around on a trampoline, having an intergenerational game of "Butt Wars".
What's that? You're not familiar with Butt Wars?
I can't imagine why. Where's your inner child? Oh, that's right, it's trapped in the city limits.
OK, here is how Butt Wars works.
Everyone jumps on the trampoline, feeling graceful, looking awkward. Oh wait, it's only the grown-ups that look awkward. Never mind.
So we all jump ... and then in mid-jump, you change position so that your next bounce is on your derriere ... your be-hind ... your "butt" as it were.
Here's the clincher - you can't just LAND. You must bounce, change position in mid-jump again, and land on your feet ... then on your butt ... then on your feet ... and whoever can do it the longest wins.
I think NTY is still bouncing. Nana and I were eliminated very quickly.
But still, it was really a lot of fun!
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