My friend Julie over at GoJulesGo is hosting a “contest” of sorts and I’m in the running (currently in 1st place). Because I’m such a huge dork and am comfortable enough to share that, please go to her site and vote for me. You never know, maybe I’ll host a contest soon and YOU could be the winner. 😉
PS – Do I get sympathy votes for telling you I’ve been stuck wearing this damn heart monitor all week AND that it snowed? If you’re willing to give me sympathy votes I am fully happy to accept them. 🙂
So, now that I’ve given in to Blair and Jesse suggesting I watch The Walking Dead, I’ve gotten over my fear of the Zombie Apocalypse taking over my home and I’m completely
obsessed with addicted to obsessed with the show and am doing my best to play catch up with the episodes.
And can I just say that I’ve totally jumped on the Daryl Dixon bandwagon.
The dude is completely badass and, the same way I feel that Drew Barrymore and I should be friends, I fully believe that Norman Reedus and I should be buddies (I loved him in Gossip). Here are just a few reasons why:
1) Norman likes to wear a fedora
I like to wear a fedora
2) Norman has a titanium eye-socket (a result from a car accident in 2005)
I just had eye surgery
3) Norman likes to flip off the camera
I like to flip off the camera (this is usually following a
bottle glass or two of wine
4) Norman takes great group shots with his friends
I love taking group shots with my friends
5) Norman can rock a tiara
I can rock a tiara AND I’m already kind of a princess
6) Norman makes this face
Bitch please, I’m always making this face
7) Norman takes pictures of his cat
I’m eventually gonna end up the crazy cat lady
8) Norman wears cool concert Tees
Jim Cuddy totally signed my concert shirt
9) Norman likes to stick out his tongue
I find absolutely nothing wrong with it
10) Norman likes to give rabbit ears
Amy yelled at me after this photo was taken
11) Norman likes to wear sunglass…a lot
I never leave home without them
12) Norman and his friends know how to take a good pic
I like to train my peeps
13) Norman rides a motorcycle
I had a dirt bike growing up (which I drove into a guardrail, tore my kneecap half off and was soon fitted for my plastic bubble)
14) Norman parties with Chewbacca
I grew up on Star Wars, plan on naming my first born after his father, HARRISON FORD (Hahaha) and verily believe that the only pet better than my 20 lb cat is a Wookie!
15) THIS PICTURE:
I bought this shirt: https://welcometosandyland.wordpress.com/2013/01/28/here-kitty-kitty/
Well, there you have it….just a few reasons why Norman Reedus and I should definitely be friends. The only reason I won’t be friends with him – this video:
He says “amazing” way too many times and y’all know how I feel about that: https://welcometosandyland.wordpress.com/2013/02/27/1875/ Tsk Tsk.
But Norman is still cool.
One of my friends has this posted as her Facebook status: “Not to be rude but Gemini’s are smarter than the rest of you combined.”
And I REALLY want to reply “Not to be rude but you don’t need the apostrophe in ‘geminis’.”
…And I’m a Libra. How d’ya like them apples?!
Mother Nature is a bitch, y’all. Welcome to Nova Scotia!!
I am embracing my inner winner (my, that sounds dirty) and posting my favorite commercial.
I crack up every time I see it. I love at the end he says “Is there somethin’ goin’ on?” as if he’s waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out and Punk him. (And I totally just watched it four times in a row and laughed out loud each time.)
And I think the dude that plays the devil is kinda hot….hooves and all.
Several years ago, just after Facebook exploded, I was approached by a guy I’d “met” online (it’s not like that. Keep reading). He and I had both contributed to a certain online forum and he’d been following my writing.
We became friendly (again, not like that. He and his same-sex partner reside in Ontario and, plus, I’m not a lunatic and don’t hook up with people from online) and began corresponding and occasionally had phone conversations. He is a life coach and after being “friends” for a while, corresponding via email, Facebook and a few small phone calls, he one day phoned me with a business offer….He wanted to join forces and put together a program: a website, literature and eventually a book. He’d be the coach, we’d brainstorm together and he wanted me to write.
It sounded so great….a kind of long-distance, too-good-to-be-true kind of fairy tale. But, after some consideration, I determined I was too much of a pussy and probably didn’t take him too seriously and I eventually declined his offer.
He continued with his idea….At first he had a great little online newsletter. Then his website sorta blew up. Then he had several television appearances (as a life coach) and just this weekend he had a signing for his 3rd book. I’m so proud of him but I’m totally calling myself out for being such a big baby and not making that leap. Dammit. Fame and fortune could be mine. In the words of Mikey-the-Goonie “All that rich stuff…”
Here’s to Bruno: http://www.brunologreco.com/
Yesterday we had gorgeous pre-Spring weather here in Nova Scotia. It was sunny and warm and all the crappy feet of snow have melted over this last week (which, BTW, I was excited for as no snow will greatly help us out in the search for Mark Clarke who has been missing since February 4th: https://welcometosandyland.wordpress.com/2013/02/09/missing-person/). So, imagine my disgust when I woke up this morning to a winter wonderland. I’m devastated. I hate winter. We’re six days away from hitting Spring and were soooo close yesterday but now we’re back to snow-covered ground again (it’s an ongoing joke that Nova Scotia has 4 seasons – winter, almost winter, more winter and road construction).
However, as I was opening my office this morning I happened to look out the window and saw a man dancing down the sidewalk thru the snow. He reminded me of the delivery dude in the Romeo & Juliet scene in Empire Records (love!!).
(watch at 1:29 in)
The man totally made my Friday. 🙂
A happy one to you all!
PS: Yesterday morning I sent a message to my friend Anic saying “Happy Friday Friend!” An hour later I sent another message “Oh shit…it’s only effing Thursday! FML”
Her response: “Nahahah.”
It was a very.long.week.
So, yesterday my friends Steve & Jaime (fellow asshole) were returning from a 3 week vacation/cruise. Earlier in the week I’d sent Jaime an email with a link to a blog on choosing wolf sweaters which we both thought was hilarious because, I mean, come on, WOLF SWEATERS. Jaime replied from the Fort Lauderdale airport and I decided to post our lame-o conversation. (I’ve had to edit a bit because Jaime has a potty mouth.)
Back before Christmas I’d seen many advertisements for Kevin Bacon’s new series “The Following.” It looked soooo good and so intense and I was excitedly counting down the days until it started.
And then it did. On a Monday night…late in the evening (which made me stay up waaaay past my bedtime. But I watched it. And I liked it. But then I went to bed. And then I got up. Turned on the lights. Checked the lock on my door. Checked the closets. Went back to bed. Got up again. Rechecked things. Got some weird looks from big, fat white cat. Went back to bed. Then something fell in the middle of the night and scared the bejezus out of me. So, SandyLand slept with some lights on. And earplugs in (hear no evil, y’all!). The next couple of nights were similar. Then, Blair and I watched episode two of “The Following” and I am full-on full of paranoia now – more than I had been. So, I had to make the grown up (aka big baby) decision to not watch this show anymore. Dammit. I really liked it too, but I sleep alone several nights of the week…it was just too much stress (and fear). And now I’m even paranoid when I get home after dark or have to take compost out to the bin in the evening. Searching with my eyes to see what’s lurking in the dark. It’s just too much and I have enough problems with my heart and anxiety.
So, I gave “The Following” up cold turkey. But recently, Blair and my friend Jesse have convinced me to start watching “The Walking Dead.” And not being too bright I heeded their advice. I’ve watched I think 4 episodes so far and last night all I dreamed about was zombies, zombies, a baby on a slide, and zombies. WTF is wrong with me??? I should know better.
But, I smartened up. I made sure not to make eye contact with the “walkers” on the TV screen. And I put a chair against the door before I went to bed. Because, I whole-heartedly believe that a chair will definitely keep a zombie apocalypse out of my house.
I think from now on I am going to stick with “Glee” and “Hawaii Five-0” (hello EYE CANDY) and reruns of “Friends”….and of course, this week is the return of “Grimm” but Grimm is cool and Monroe is hilarious (and Nick and the Captain are more eye candy) so I’m safe with that.
Being a freak and scared of everything has made my life so that I find something spooky in everything. I can’t even look around at the houses after dark for fear that the aliens from “Signs” will be perched on the rooftops ready to swoop in and take over the earth. And I just don’t think I’ll look that great in a tinfoil hat.
Let’s just say that I can admit that I prefer to live in a world where people sing and there are rainbows and butterflies and good things happen. I prefer to remain oblivious to the the evil that lurks in the TV.
In my previous post I made mention of how my former employer was super sweet yet extremely intimidating. So, here’s a little story.
I’ve always been outgoing, chatty, friendly. But I get intimidated. I DO NOT like making eye contact with people…not even some of my closest friends. And if I’m accosted in this manner and am not able to break away from their stupid eye contact I usually just end up laughing. I’m surprised I haven’t been punched yet.
Anyway, back in my early Tim Horton’s coffee-serving days I was sorta shy and nervous….especially around the boss man. He comes across as kind of gruff….but, like I said, he is a darling and he’s sort of goofy.
So, one day, in between busy streaks, I was out in the back of the store filling up the mop bucket (which, btw, I hated and tried to pawn this task onto everyone). The hallway to the mop sink is very long and narrow with shelves of product aligning both sides
the four miles all the way down. So, as I’m heading up the hallway to go mop the damn floor Boss Man comes down the hall toward me. I’m darting my eyes to the floor, to the yellow brick road laid before me, to the mop bucket….anywhere, as long as I could avoid looking at this scary man. As I get closer to him I attempt to scrunch up my shoulders thinking that will help me with evading him in this narrow hallway. Suddenly, he darts in front of me…so I try to sideline him but he stays in my way. Then he backs me into a shelf and gets right in my face and says “Man your eyes are blue! They real?” I nearly shit my pants!
Had I not been terrified of this man back then and remained with my smartass way of living I would/should have tapped on my eye and said “Nah, it’s glass.” and kept on walking. Unfortunately, I was so terrified at that moment that I simply mustered “uh, yeah.” and pushed by him with the mop
Have You Ever Had a Stalker?
Blair and I have this unspoken deal that whenever I give him a back massage he allows me to gab on and on and on. He’ll say “tell me a story, Babe” and then I talk, incessently for as long as I can. And if I feel he’s drifting off into snoozeville I wake his ass up. It’s only fair.
So, the other day as I was giving Blair a “much-needed” massage I told him this story of my stalker.
Back in my Tim Horton’s days, in my late teens/early 20’s, I worked a lot a lot of shifts and I got to know a lot of people – hey, they don’t call me “Sandy-the-Social-Butterfly” for nothing. As with many-a-coffee shop, you get to know your customers….the “regulars” become part of your everyday routine. Sometimes whether you like it or not. It wasn’t uncommon to be hit on or asked out by a “regular”. Sometimes it would be flattering but for the most part it was a great big giant ICK.
This one particular guy, who my co-workers referred to as my “dirtball boyfriend” (he’s the kind of guy who, just by looking at him makes you want to throw up. The kind of guy you just don’t get a good vibe from), decided he had a crush on me. Now, I worked 6 days a week from 5:30am-2pm. This guy, whose name I can’t even recall/didn’t care about, started showing up just before I’d get to work. He’d wait inside with his coffee and as soon as I started my shift he would begin his conversations and creepy gawking. He’d sit there for hours as I counted down the minutes until the busy traffic began and my friends showed up for their shifts. Then he’d leave the store, come thru the drive thru so I’d have to wait on him (tho I’d dodge him whenever I could) and then disappear for a bit. UNTIL it was time for my shift to end when he started showing up in the back parking lot next to my car. I’d do my best to evade the situation and any communication but the truth is, I’m not that much of an asshole and wasn’t able to come right out and tell him to eff off so this routine went on daily for a few weeks. Then he began waiting in the back parking lot when I arrived for work. At 5:15 in the morning it’s still dark and this was creepy as hell. But, it gave me the opportunity to say I didn’t see him and take off like a bat out of hell.
Eventually, I was getting so freaked out that my male coworkers were waiting for me at the back door when I arrived in the mornings and would walk me to my car in the afternoons so that I could avoid this guy. One night, while at the bar celebrating my birthday, a coworker showed up and said he was out in the parking lot and wanted to talk to me. I was so annoyed that I dragged a friend out with me and asked him what the hell he was doing. He said he wanted to come wish me a Happy Birthday (I don’t know how the hell he found out where we were to start with). I asked him why he couldn’t just come inside and say it to me there. His response: “Oh, I can’t go in there. My wife’s in there.” WTF????? I’m pretty sure I called him a freak and headed back inside. But sure enough, when the bar closed and my friends and I headed home he was still sitting in his car watching like a hawk.
At one point when all this craziness was happening I started parking my car in the front lot of my work place. This was a big no-no but the owner and manager were aware of the situation and I did this at their suggestion. My dad wanted to come down and “have a talk” with this guy but that would have been a very bad idea because my dad would have destroyed him (I proudly get my temper from dear old Dad). But the dude just did not get it. He started parking next to my car out front. I got my shifts switched up..asking to work from 10-6 (the longest, most drawn out shifts EVER)…to throw a curve in his plan but when he caught on he just sat in the side parking lot until my shift would end and would try to talk to me when I was leaving.
Finally, my big boss, the owner of the store, who is a truly good-hearted guy but very intimidating (I’ll have another story about this soon) had had enough and he put the run to this weirdo. Told him to leave me alone, to not come back to the store or he’d be phoning the police. The bossman had my back, and although he knew I didn’t want to cause a fuss with the situation, didn’t want me to endure anymore of the foolishness. He rocks.
Occasionally I will see my dirtball boyfriend and I get creeped out and throw up a little bit in my mouth. I try to dart out of his line of vision and never speak to him but always feel the need to tell whoever I’m with who he is. The last time I’d seen him was a few years ago when I was out to dinner with my family: parents, brother and his family, grandparents and my uncle and cousin who were visiting from out-of-province (shout out to Annie-Lou!!) and he came in with another large family group. Of course, these two large groups were seated in a large function room together (but separate). His chair was behind me and just off to the right. Whenever I would turn my head to talk to Anne or for whatever reason, he was sitting there glaring at me. Obviously I lost my appetite but I made sure to tell Anne the entire story. Because, really, a blogger is a good storyteller and this guy should just be ashamed and embarrassed.