Jan 17, 2010

To Put A Child In My Belly, Or Not To Put A Child In My Belly

I've never wanted kids. When I was one myself, the thought terrified me. My mom (now, Mom, don't go beating yourself up for some sort of unintentional childhood psychosis you fed. This is meant to be FUNNY) told me that when you were ready Jesus would put a baby in your belly. This horrified me.The children I didn't want would be a gift from Jesus! Trying to make it better Mom added that if he gave me a baby he'd also give me the desire to have it. Great. Now Jesus would be messing with my mind, changing my brain so I wouldn't be a horrible mother.

In grade four when I learned how babies were really made (When a mommy and a daddy really love each other the daddy takes his - here, let me draw you a picture...) I was torn between feeling disgusted and sooo relieved. I had control! No spontaneous babies in this tummy, thank you very much. I'll be child free forever.

That being said, I'm getting to that age where I'm told a lot of women start to reconsider child-rearing options. That whole ticking clock and all. Every now and then I wonder to myself, Do I want a family? Little children running around, drawing me cute pictures with crayons and bringing me cake in bed on my birthday?

Do I?

And then, I'll pet-sit for someone. And the answer will come back, NNNOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Take Pika. So, so cute. And gentle. That whole nose thing I mentioned last time. Really, really funny. The first few days. Then she started doing it every. Single. Time. I sat at the computer. She was like one of those brats who unintentionally does something adorable and you laugh, so then they keep doing it for the attention and it drives you mental.

And Pika's old, and she stopped eating her food. That can't be good. So I'm in high panic mode for four days, doing everything I can to coax this dog to eat. Just a little. Just take a bite, for mommy, please? Because I'm pretty sure it's bad form to kill someone else's pet while the owners are on vacation.

Even when there's nothing wrong, you still have to be around regularly. That whole "feeding" thing has to happen a few times a day. They need to be escorted outside to use the washroom at regular intervals. And someone has to clean up after the vomit.

I love animals, and I enjoy looking out for them. I like being able to help my friends. But 14 days are my limit. At the end of that I'm ready to flee back to comforts of single living. No schedule. No responsibility for another life form. No worry of finding excrement on the floor if I'm late coming home.

And I'm not speaking from experience or anything, but I believe that kids are slightly more high-maintenance than pets. Maybe? A little?

So, the next time I get a struck with the question of kids, I have a whole battery of memories that I can use to talk myself off of that life-altering edge. Thanks, Pika!

Jan 14, 2010

Meet-a Pika

Hey Everyone, guess what I'm doing this week?

That's right. I'm dog sitting. Again.

Why is it that everyone, EVERYONE, around me is jetting off to fabulous destinations? Mexico, Spain, Vancouver. And if they think of me at all, is it to invite me along? Because they can't live without my sparkly, charming wit and...um...charm?

NO. They think that Sarah. She's got nothing better to do than come and care for our adorable pets while we go off and have wonderful fun without her.

Which is true.

So this week I'm looking after Pika. Part husky, part something else that I can't remember, Pika is 14, which I think makes her some age-defying druidic elder in dog years. She's deaf (or fakes it reaaaallly well), has gimpy hips, and the driest nose I've ever encountered on a dog.

I know this because she loves to come and stick it under my wrist when I'm at the computer. Not when I'm typing an email or something that can be interrupted with no consequences. Oh no. She does this only when I'm playing a game that has a time limitation. It's when I have sixty seconds left to collect the shiny gems and free the monkey face with the magical coins (I'm not addicted to Jungle Jewels, so don't even ask) that she'll come over and shove her nose under my mousing wrist, pushing the mouse away and demanding a nose scratch. I try to get her to come over to my left side so I can scratch with that hand while saving the jungle with my right. She'll have none of that. Right handed nose scratches are the only acceptable kind, apparently. Her insanely dry (and surprisingly strong) nose leaves little abrasions on my arm. I'm very delicate. But my Jungle Jewel scores are what's really suffering here.

Oh look, I'm turning this into another gaming rant. So sorry.

Cute dog. Right. Sooooo cute. Like yesterday, when I was on the phone in the den and she came and threw up right in the doorway. It wasn't even normal vomit. There was no pre-puke noises to alert me. She just opened her mouth and this really thick, slow flowing gunk oozed out for like a minute. Then she closed her mouth and looked at me like she's saying Will you clean this up already? It's disgusting.

Now any weird wet noise that comes from her makes my heart race. Will there be more gooey fluids emitted from her mouth? And she's a dog. She's constantly making weird, wet noises.

I may walk away from this with a nervous condition.

Jan 12, 2010

Technology and Crustaceans

I know that my previous success in working for a high tech internet company surprised a lot of people. Namely, anyone who knew me. I was never particularly interested in "computers" or "technology".

I remember when email first hit the scene. I was in high school when people started to get this internet thing at home. Our home package was something like $30 per month for 10 hours that could only be used between 6pm and 6am. It came with an email address the whole family shared. My school friends wanted to email in the evening, and I could never figure out how to enter in an email address correctly. It always bounced. The only way I could successfully send an email was to reply to one. New communications would not, could not, be initiated by me.

In 1998 I went traveling. Before I left, my 14 year old cousin suggested I set up an email account. But, I proclaimed, I won't be traveling with the house computer. Duh! He sat me down and explained all about free email sites like this crazy thing called "Hotmail". I just couldn't understand how I could access this from any computer. Email went directly to one specific computer. Everyone knew that!

12 years later and I've come a long way. I'm pretty good with computers. I can usually figure out what's wrong with one, and I may even be able to fix it myself. But I have to admit that this is only because of the information forced upon me during six years of working for an e-commerce site. Keeping up with technological advances is not something that comes naturally to me.

For example, guess what I learned yesterday?

You can pause TV.

Let me say that again.


How crazy is that?

When I was a kid we had this tiny black and white TV with bunny ears and a dial to change the channels. But the dial was busted, so instead we used a crab claw whose pinchers fit into the dial mechanism perfectly.

Yes, I said crab claw.

To change channels:

1. Insert crab claw.
2. Gently apply torquing motion in the desired direction until correct channel is displayed.
3. Remove crab claw.
4. Hide from children.

Just like the modern day remote, who ever controlled the crab claw controlled the living room. Except our channel changer was very delicate, so we had to be careful in our fights for TV dominance. If that thing busted we could be stuck watching something lame like the news or weather updates FOREVER.

At some point we upgraded to a colour TV with a remote control, and a VCR player where we could tape one show while watching another. Mostly this technological advance was used to record X-Files and Paula Abdul music videos.

Then I moved out, and haven't had cable since. I've seen people with these things called "cable boxes" that add hundreds of channels (all which play the same three movies over and over) and add about five more remotes to the equation. But I'd never really used one. Until this week, when I once again found myself pet-sitting. Charlie's Angel: Full Throttle was on, and for a second I forgot that I'm not watching a DVD and hit the pause button. And it paused!

The TV!


I feel like some hick from the 90's who's been cryogenically frozen and defrosts in the far away time of 2010, to find that life as she knows it has changed forever. Can I adapt? Is there a place for me in this world?

Can I sell my movie rights?

Jan 7, 2010

A Post About Nothing

Since my list of non-activities in 2009, a few people have asked me if I'll write a similar post for 2010. A list of goals, or non-goals, to do or to not-do in the following twelve months.

After thinking about this long and hard, here is my answer:


And if you know me at all you'll guess that this has something to do with my commitment issues that influence every aspect of my life (relationships, employment, residence, etc).

And you'll be right.

The only thing I can say I'll accomplish in 2010 with any certainty is that I'll turn 31. Or 29, if I can get my TR (Time Reversal) application for the iTouch I don't own yet up and running in time.

Fingers crossed.