6 Sept 2013

I'm Sorry, I Have A Cold

From Wikipedia: Monty Python
I recently participated in some lame growing-older lady activities, namely looking at antique shops and perusing places that specialize in tea blends.

I realize this puts me just a few steps away from wearing shawls and acquiring multiple cats. I've accepted that.

Anyway, at one shop the elderly woman manning the counter was big on small-talk. After the obligatory mentions of weather and gardening (ah, yes, gardening. It's official: shawls and cats are in my immediate future), our attentions were turned to a noise just outside the store.

There was cheering, chanting, and eventually, a glimpse of what was causing all the fuss (fuss! An old lady term! I should just start stocking up on Fancy Feast now.): some guys were trotting along the sidewalk; not quite goose-stepping, not quite Ukrainian dancing, but doing something confusingly in between. (If I was being literal, I guess that would make what they were doing ... Polish?) It was clearly some kind of stunt brought on by Frosh Week. I deduced this not from a Sherlock Holmesian brilliance, but from the fact they were all wearing T-shirts that had "FROSH 13" written across them. Indubitably.

"Wow," I said to the shopkeeper. "Reminds me of the Ministry of Silly Walks."

She blinked.

"From Monty Python. You know. That sketch," I smiled.

"Oh! Now, there's a name I haven't heard in a while. What else did they do, again?" she asked, keenly.

And then my brain betrayed me, as it always fucking does.


"Ughh," I stammered ....


"Well, they did the one about ..."


"... well, wow, they had so many sketches. And movies. It's hard to pick just one ..."


"They're a funny group from Britain, right?" she said. "I just love British humour! It's so clever. So witty!"

And - finally - a different sketch (something completely different, if you will) came to me.

"I fart in your general direction!" I screamed in her face.

"Oh, yes, right," she politely replied, having no idea what I was talking about.

I really shouldn't ever leave my home.


7 Aug 2013

Overheard: Please Let This Be An Innocent Three's Company Kind Of Misunderstanding

Was just in the backyard, hanging out with my only friend the dog when I heard this conversation over the fence, a couple doors down. These people are in their 50s or 60s and I see the husband almost everyday while walking Huck:

Woman: You told me we'd try.

 *I perk up and pause the ritual post-work scratching of Huck's chest. Huck is not amused.* 

Man: What? Now?

Woman: Don't be an idiot.

Man: Well, you're bringing it up now.

Woman: They say it's better to talk about things after the fact, when you're not in the heat of the moment.

Man: Heat of the moment? When was that?

Woman: I guess that's our problem. There's no heat, sir. No heat at all.

Man: Fine. FINE! This weekend, alright?

Woman: Good. I'll pick up Vaseline from the Costco.


11 Jul 2013

I Could Watch This All Day

I'll put a somewhat more meaningful post up later, but for now, this will do just fine:

 (Hover over the top-left of the clip to select the speaker and turn on the sound. If it still isn't coming through, click on the original.)


21 Jun 2013

This Post Is Pretty Much Just Videos

... because words don't quite describe how great things are right this second.

This is me right now:

Totally happy, with exactly zero fucks to give.

Why? Because 2012, the year that shat on my chest after eating at a questionable taco stand, now finally feels over. I know it's June 2013, but it's taken this long to clean up that whole mess. Today, I can say:

  • I just got paid by two clients whom I had been waiting on forever.
  • I'm gainfully employed and officially start full-time on Monday.
  • The house is securely in my name only, and I'm on a mission to destroy its mortgage.
  • I got a judge-approved divorce order. D-Day becomes official in a couple weeks.

And so I say:




(As you can see, my happy place embarrassingly resides in the pop culture wasteland of 1990 - 1992.)

Have an awesome weekend - I know I will!


28 May 2013

An Update For Those Who Still Accidentally Come To This Site


So, yesterday, my dog ran away. WHY DO ALL THE BOYS LEAVE ME? The back gate was somehow left open, I hadn't noticed, and Huck bounded out to freedom while I was inside - eating, n'est pas. When I glanced out the window and saw the gate, I just about died and did one of those silent screams you only have in nightmares and dreams about making out with your gross old boss. 

I ran outside without any shoes on and ... thankfully, Huck was only at the end of the street. He was running his happy little heart out toward me while an old man - clearly spooked by a goofy dog on the loose and convinced Huck was coming for him - beelined to the other sidewalk, swearing in Greek, and nearly tripped in the process. If I hadn't been so overwhelmed with losing and then finding my dog within the span of 30 seconds, I probably would have laughed at it all - because there is nothing quite as funny as old people tripping Huck in a moment of joy.  

If I had lost Huck, at least there would be a solid Plan B to turn to: There is enough shed hair in this place to build another dog. It's so gross ... and, yet, still so much better than cleaning the bathroom during my married days. I won't expand on that further. No, wait, I will: 

In any case, I've added another DIY level of security to the back gate, making it a little harder for this to happen again. I think.

Anyway, since you last saw him (unless you follow my All Huck All The Time Instagram Feed!), Huck has managed to gain an amazing 24 pounds in two months - which is astounding because his diet only consists of kibble. And my sandals. And any and every shred of paper in the house. And that bottle of green food dye that I didn't notice he had until I walked over to my wool carpet and saw that it looked drastically different. 

Sigh. Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she made puppies - being way too cute is their best defence against being murdered.

Whereas Huck has been packing on the pounds (but still looks pretty skinny ... bitch), I've been slowly losing them. I've been downgraded from Marineland Attraction Fat to Season Eight Chandler Fat. Hurrah! Still a ways to go, but I hope to one day take a picture of myself smiling while holding out the stretched waistband of the tent pants I used to wear. That same day, I think I'll also wash my hair in a waterfall and put gum in my mouth by bending it on my tongue:

So, yeah, there's that.

I've shifted from sticking to freelance work to now actually looking for full-time opportunities. I'm hoping within the next month or so, I'll have found the right fit. I love freelancing, but waiting to get paid "whenever" vs. having a steady paycheque has become a little too much of a struggle - plus there are some things I've applied for that would be really cool to do, so we'll see! I've updated my portfolio site at Jennifereve.com (yes, it still needs a bit of work) should any of you fine, random people of the Internet know someone in Toronto who is looking for a writer / marketer / communications / self-depricating type - pass it along!

I'm also officially one-year separated from ___________ (fill in your own blank! I did!), which means divorce proceedings are now just a matter of the court getting to it ... and how long that will be, I have no idea. But it's definitely something I'm looking forward to so that I can close that sad sack chapter and move on. I had thought about making a big blog post about Then vs. Now, what's changed since then and what hasn't, but .... meh.  For now, I just don't really care. Oh, for sure, there are things that I'd like to and will probably talk about - particularly some lessons learned from that marriage and divorce that hopefully others can avoid, but I'm not ready or willing to drop those beats yet. 

But in all, I feel pretty darn lucky to have what I have in my life, starting first and foremost with family and friends. I had a visit from my folks a little while ago and, man, did I ever win the parent lottery. I think I need to convince them to write a book about how to do what they do, because the world needs more of it. Seriously, all problems in life can be solved by Joe and Marie in a five-day visit.

Ok ... that's it for another two months. Or not. I do hope to get back to this just-for-fun writing stuff in a more consistent way, if only for an excuse to look up animated gifs - like this one!:

See ya!


26 Mar 2013

Meet The New Boy In My Life

I've become pretty darn lousy at this blog upkeep thing ... and I'm not sure if that's about to get worse or better ... because, now, I'm head-over-heels and all-consumed with a special someone.

Meet Huck.

Ah, Huck, the name built for limericks. While you'd think that was my intention, I actually named him after Huckleberry Finn, the Mark Twain character. I was originally going to go with Ponyboy (a la The Outsiders) but the more I've gotten to know this little bugger, the more a Huckleberry he's become. I will, however, always advise this dog to stay gold.

The stats on Huck:
  • He's a rescue from an organization called A.R.F. Ontario.
  • He's just shy of three-months old.
  • We think he's a boxer-shepherd mix, but a few people have pointed out he has some mastiff qualities, too. Bring on the big poops.
  • He's probably about 14 lb. right now with the potential to become a whole lot bigger in the coming months.
  • Napping (complete with feet-wiggling dreams) is a favourite past-time, followed by munching on smoked rawhide bones and hooves, followed by farting.
  • He is not a fan of car rides, the plastic squeaky toy I bought him, or how those poor kids STILL haven't learned how their long-winded dad met their mother, already.
Huck is so sweet, I can barely stand it. He has a lot of nice manners and a willingness to please, but I'll be starting official puppy training next week so that he'll be the dearest and happiest dog on the block.

I'm so in love.


30 Jan 2013

Yes! We Have No Bikini Stories Today!

I am back from vacation, all. And, yes, it was a dandy time even though the resort lacked the Argentinian football team that I was pinning all my slutty hopes and dreams on.

Sigh. For shame.

And since I'm disappointing you with that, I'll add one more sad fact into this blog post:

I didn't wear the homemade bikini and therefore avoided the humiliation that was greatly foreshadowed in my previous post.


I brought it.

I put it on.

And then I felt a familiar feeling.

I looked in the mirror in the hotel room and could see that I was already starting to sport the Coppertone Girl look. But there wasn't an adorable black poodle tugging at my bottoms, but my old nemesis, gravity. And this was without the weight of water dragging my drawers down, so Newton only knows how long they would have lasted had I dog-paddled to the swim-up bar done a few laps.

And, yet, I still considered going out to the pool like that. For the blog. Because I am that much of a whore for an awful story to tell.

But then a voice I so rarely hear peeped up.

"Jen ... what about your diggimy?"

"My what?"

"Diggimy. Or is it dimnity?"

"Come again?"

"You know, that thing that you're supposed to have? The belief that you're better than that so you act better than that. Diginimy."

"Wait. Do you mean DIGNITY?"

"Yeah! That's it! Dig-ni-ty," the voice said, familiarizing itself with the word for the first time in years.

I glanced back at myself in the mirror and could see that the voice was right. That there was no diggimy or dimnity in exposing anyone's eyes to the Bikini Bottom Blowout that was getting worse by the second.

So I instead put on what was my most matronly of bathing suits and promptly burned the only skin the suit exposed, my armpits.


But the trip was overall pretty fun. So fun in fact that certain details cannot be revealed or I'd be straight-up murdered by my travel buddy. If I were to edit out any words that would require a Daddy Disclaimer, the trip could be summarized as: tequila, sun, ceviche, tequila, catamaran, Americans, tequila, sunburn, weird ice cream, tequila, mojito, tequila, Thank-God-no-one-here-has-a-camera.


And now I'm back and trying to settle into reality.



16 Jan 2013

Happy Birthday To My Mom! Now Let's All Look At Her Ass.

(My hot mamma, about 40 years ago. And, yes, she looks exactly the same now.)

Happy Birthday to the best mom anyone could ask for!


14 Jan 2013

I'm Basically The Worst Unemployed Person Ever

Image Source: FunCheapSF
... because instead of refining my résumé for the millionth time and glumly living off of Sapporo Ichiban, I'm going to Mexico this week.


It's my incredibly irresponsible way of rewarding myself for not having a job or a husband anymore. (And I must say, I've really excelled at both.)

I'm going with a girlfriend who also had a crappy 2012. We've vowed to make it one of those trips where the details of what goes on during it aren't allowed to be shared with anyone we know, and that probably includes "The Internet". (Sorry.) Just know that in reality, I will most likely spend at least two days of this vacation watching episodes of Friends dubbed into Spanish in the hotel room while I recover from a sunburn brought on by falling asleep by the pool. But let's all at least pretend that I'm going to have a wild and glorious time in the land of sun and tequila, ok?

After booking the last-minute deal, we started diving further into the reviews of the resort and there was one - a complaint - that gave both of us hope that it may indeed be a dandy of a trip after all:

... everything was great until a new group of guests came in, which unfortunately included a couple Argentinian football teams. These guys were interested in anything in a skirt ...  

To which my friend and I responded:

Oh, please, Baby Jesus, make it so.

And if going to Mexico isn't indulgent enough for someone with no income, yesterday I went and got eyelash extensions (so that I didn't have to bother with mascara on the trip), a manicure and a pedicure.

You see, I received a bit of Christmas money from my grandfather, and I'm pretty sure at the bottom of the cheque it said, "For whoring it up." - so I kind of had to spend it on this:

Local Business Plug: I am wearing zero make-up in the picture, and look at how dolled-up my eyes look! If you want to get eyelash extensions in Toronto, I highly recommend Balanced Beaute - she is so good, won't make you look cartoonish, and is probably one of the most affordable pros in the city. Yay!

My other bit of prep work from this trip actually saved me money: not buying food. Not buying food meant I couldn't eat anything, which resulted in me going down a glorious 11 pounds since Christmas. Thanks, starvation! High five, desperation! This weight will all come screaming back on as I stuff my face at the resort's buffet and swim-up bar, but whatever.

The final thing I did in anticipation of going to Mexico involved harnessing my very novice skills as a seamstress: I made my own bikini. I can already smell the humiliation that will surely happen while wearing this. Not simply because it's a bikini (GAH!) but because I chose the fabric based on how pretty it was and not based on the trivial matter of how well it deals with water. Heh. So, you have that account to look forward to, readers.

I'll probably do one more tiny post this week, but that will likely be it until I get back. And then hopefully I'll become a bit more regular with the updates and thoughts and first-world gripings after that.

Your notes from my previous post were all really appreciated. How did such nice people end up stumbling on this blog? Boy, I'm lucky.

Adios for now, muchachos!


4 Jan 2013

The Year That Was


So, it's been a while, right?

First, I want to thank everyone who commented or wrote to me over the past few months. I appreciate the notes. You're all dollies. I also apologize for the fact that I basically responded to no one like the ungrateful slob I am. I guess I mostly didn't know what to say.

Perhaps I haven't written back or updated this blog because I didn't want this place to rival the depressing vibe of a departing gate in the Las Vegas airport. Don't get me wrong, my life really isn't that bad (in fact, I'm a lucky person in a million, zillion ways) but I just didn't have it in me to put on a brave, smiling digital face for everyone. It's tiring enough to do that in real life.

I was also worried that if I turned to the ol' blog during this time, I'd use it to vent and lay out some dirty, dirty forklift-foot-level dirty laundry about a certain someone and that would interfere with this whole 'taking the high road' facade I'm trying to keep up.

With the exception of some very recent paper signing and key-handing-overs, I haven't seen Patrick since he moved out in May. Well, that's not quite true. I was out one day and spotted him with his girlfriend downtown. (It is taking a fair bit of willpower not to add adjectives and a different use of nouns to that sentence. *HighRoadHighRoadHighRoadHighRoad...*)

This GIF perfectly demonstrates how that encounter went:

Yep. I hid. It was either that or ... I don't even know. A million savage / glorious / humiliating / underwhelming / regretful things come to mind.

We've essentially only been communicating through very civil e-mails and lawyers. And I'm totally, totally cool with that. I probably should be bothered that I haven't had any real contact with the person I spent eight years with, but ... I'm not. I guess that's what happens when you don't want someone in your life anymore.

Besides the super-fun annihilation of my marriage, the agency I worked at and really enjoyed working at all but closed its doors. Despite having an amazing team that was doing great work, some shit happened behind the scenes that was beyond our control and the bulk of us - including yours truly - wound up without a job. This, as I was paying lawyer fees out my ass and buying Patrick out of the house.

Oh, and just as tragic, I found my first white hair. Not grey. White. Like a fucking piece of dental floss sprouting out of my scalp.

So, to recap, I'm:
  • divorcing
  • unemployed
  • broke
  • about to turn into the Crypt Keeper
Ain't that just a bit of terrific.

But 2012 wasn't all a shit show. A year never is. You especially realize how small and stupid your complaints are when, sadly, other people in the world and your community have faced truly horrible things that we can't even wrap our heads and hearts around.

So, some of the good stuff that happened included:
  • I got to see my friends and family at their very, stellar best. I am so tear-jerkingly lucky to have some really solid, wonderful, beautiful people in my corner and in my life. They're basically the best humans on earth. Fact.
  • I had a job that I really loved (well, most of the time) that gave me the chance to work on cool projects while paying me well enough that I was able to save a bunch of money to ...
  • ... keep my lovely home and buy it from Patrick. Part of the buy-out is done which means the deed (and mortgage, hurrah) is transferring solely into my name (maiden name, y'all!) now.
  • I met some amazing people when I was with the agency, including someone who is now a really good friend. He's happily married (to a woman I'm pleased to also now call my friend) and Brazilian which makes him almost exactly like a gay BFF. I also now know more random facts about Brasil than any Canadian who ever existed and have consumed more Caipirinhas in 2012 than in all my previous years combined. My liver is not amused.
  • I listened to a fuck-tonne of music, discovered new bands and have basically become one with Tina Turner. I made a playlist of what I've been listening to on repeat if you're interested in hearing what the soundtrack of my life is like (but the song I've been listening to ad nauseam is at the bottom of this post).
  • I enjoyed some nice walks home and stops in the park during a beautiful summer and even got myself a bicycle. Now if only I had the courage to ride it on streets containing cars.
  • Romney not getting bloody elected. Yes, even us little Canadians care about that.
  • I got my first thing ever from Tiffany's (from my actual gay BFF). Appropriately, it's a vessel for alcohol.
  • I experienced Ontario cottage life not once but twice this summer. I think I'll have to make it an annual thing.
  • I ate all kinds of stuff and in true hipster fashion took pictures of most of it. How cool of me.
So ... I really do have plenty of things to be happy about.

Which brings us to the next question: What's next?

I mostly don't know. But I'm thinking:
  • I obviously have to get my career back on track. Or not. There are days when I seriously consider applying to the neighbourhood grocery store, becoming a checkout girl, and not giving a flying fuck about having career aspirations. And then there are days when I really want to afford HBO again.
  • I might have an opportunity to take a totally different spin in the 50s Housewife Experiment thing (clearly different, what with that whole lack of being a wife technicality and all. Heh.). I don't want to say too much about it as it might not happen, but it could be pretty funny. Or get me sued. We'll see. (And no, some of you have asked, I had nothing to do with Wives in Beehives. I caught the show, though. It had potential but I was disappointed that the producers decided to take it in the tired 'lady dramz' direction. Boo.).
  • I'll probably get a dog. (!!!) I've wanted one forever and now that I don't live with someone with allergies, I'm free to make that happen. The idea of this makes me really, really, really happy.
  • A return to blog writing. I've missed it. I've missed you, whoever you all are.
And that's basically it. That's what's been going on and not going on. I'm sure to make Barbara Walter's Most Fascinating People list.

And you? How are you? Let me know.

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I have no shame

Need words? I'm a Toronto-based freelance writer who injects great ones into blogs, websites, magazines, ads and more. So many services, one lovely Jen (with one 'n').

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