Friday, December 26, 2008

A picture says a 1000 words....about your insecurities...

Hey Blog Fans

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas. We sure did. It was just the 3 of us this year, which was new. Sean and I have never had a Christmas in our 11 years of marriage, let alone since Sorcha was born, that wasn't with people other then ourselves. Every year we've gone somewhere or had people come to us which has always been lovely, don't get me wrong, and perhaps, it's selfish to have enjoyed it being just the 3 of us, but that's the way it went this year. We ate lots, and got spoiled by various family member. In the middle of opening presents Sorcha said "I'm getting spoiled here!" We are very thankful and look forward to Christmas with family next year, but probably will do this kind of Christmas every few years.

But that's not why I'm writing this particular blog entry. I'm writing for another reason. There's a picture of me posted on facebook right now that disturbs me. I'm not upset it's there. The girl who posted it posted it because her Uncle is in the picture and I just happen to be in it as well. I'm not tagged and she probably doesn't know my name. What disturbs me is how I'm sitting, my posture. It's summer and I'm wearing a fairly tight fitting tank top and shorts. I'm smiling, but my body language says that I'm not truly happy. My legs are crossed tightly, one of my hands in across my chest and clutching my neck and the other arm in draped across my stomach. I look as though I'm trying to cover myself up, to hide all the flaws about myself that I feel are there. I look as though I would turn myself into a little ball if I had that strange ability. However, I know why I'm sitting that way. I don't like my legs, so I cross them to hide them as best I can. My hand is below my neck to hide part of my upper chest because I feel that my shirt is too low. And my arm is draped across my stomach to cover any roll that may or may not be there because I've never achieved a perfectly flat stomach. (which really isn't a goal for me, but I'm still self concious about it which I know is pure silliness,but there you go.) I am not happy with body and this picture tells that story louder then I usually proclaim to anyone. Why am I a writing about this? I guess because I'm tired of feeling this way and this picture is a wake up call. (sorry for going all Dr. Phil on you). I'm not hideous, I have nothing to hide and people are too busy with their own insecurities to be worrying about my legs. And if they are worried about them...well, that's their business. I just hope they don't tell me. :)

But let's end this post on a silly note. Last night during Christmas dinner while drinking a lovely glass of wine I was proposing a few toasts when an extremely bizarre thought popped into my mind. I will share it with you to ponder...When toast sits around with friends and family and shares in a bottle of wine, do they propose a person?

Food for thought is it not?

Until next time, continued Happy Holidays!
Eat, drink,
and Cin

Thursday, December 11, 2008

There's a Moose in my Jeans!

It's been a while my dear followers, but fear not, I am back with a posting that is sure to please... or confuse. Either way, it's a new post.

Last week Sean was getting dressed (as he often does, which is a good thing) and said (not for the first time) that he found it amazing how many people wear jeans. As in, you look around when you're out and about and most people are wearing jeans. Some are wearing cheap jeans, some are wearing expensive jeans, some are wearing jeans that look cheap and ruined, but were very expensive...but still, they are wearing jeans. I muttered "yes dear...", or whatever an appropriate response was at time and moved on mentally to another thought. Sean however,
was not done with the jeans topic. He then said " You know, it's funny though, because when my Mom was a kid-" And I cut him off as I knew where he was going next in his jean key. This is how the rest of our conversation went.

"Yes, I know. Only people who worked on the farm or what have you wore jeans...We've talked about this before."

"No...that's not what I was going to say...I was going to say that when my Mom was a kid if you wanted jeans you had to go take them off a moose."

"Really...Moose just walked around in jeans?"

"Yes, and if you wanted jeans, that's how you got them."

"How could you even get jeans off a moose? Wouldn't they run away?"

"Well, they stood around a lot... "

"That would be hard to do wouldn't it, they are pretty big? And the jeans would be huge! You could get a few people in one pair of moose jeans."

And it went down hill from there. Actually we were laughing so hard at the thought of moose in jeans that conversation was rather difficult. Other strains of conversation around Moose Jeans were "Where did the moose get the jeans in the first place?" "What kinds of jeans did the moose wear?" and "Didn't they notice or get upset about people taking their jeans?" I believe the last question was answered thusly. That the key to getting moose out of their jeans was too get them drunk wait, that wasn't it. It was to have one person distract the moose with antics at the front end while another person (or persons more likely...remember, Big Moose, Big Jeans) hauled the jeans off the poor unsuspecting moose at the back end.

I don't know how many of you have obscure conversations that lead to gut wrenching laughter, but I seriously encourage it. You leave trails of happiness and laughter in your wake, or at least in your mind. Conversations like this will make me smile weeks after when I think of them. I'm easily ammused yes, but it's in my genes. (A lot like that moose over there...)

As ever,
Cinfully Silly.

Monday, November 3, 2008

"Hot" is the new "Cute" apparently...

We moved recently and therefore my daughter had to change schools. I'd have to say she's fitting right in...maybe too well. ON THE FIRST DAY at her new school a little girl in her class came up to her and said "That boy over there likes you and thinks you're hot. " "Hot?" I said. "Hot?" My husband just stood there doing this fast blinking thing he does when he's having trouble grasping what he's just learned and has no words. I then said (again) "Hot? You're not hot! You're 7! What happened to cute? You're cute not hot!" I could go on a long tirade about how this is the word that the youngin's these days here in every form of media blah blah blah to describe anyone attractive, but I'll keep it short. Hot is wrong for young's not an innocent's...there are so many more feelings attached to "HOT" then a simple school kid crush...feelings that 7 year olds really shouldn't know about yet. I know kids don't stay young and innocent forever, but I'd like to be for a few years past the age of 7.

And it didn't end on the first day. On the second day she had another boy tell her outright he has a crush on her! And then she tells me that all during her first week a boy at her table "Always interupts me when I'm writing by saying 'I love you'". I'm trying not to be disturbed by these diplays of "love" toward my daugther. They are just kids after all and I know my daughter would never let it go beyond giving a shy smile in return. Plus, I'm a big help as every few days I, out of the blue, turn to her and ask "Do we kiss boys in school?" "No Mummy!" (enter dramatic eye roll here). She's cute...I don't care what anyone says.

Until next time,
Don't be good,

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Short... but not always sweet.

I've got to eat, so this won't be long, but I feel this needs to be said. I strongly believe that WHEN you stock the shelves with "make my PMS symptoms go away RIGHT NOW" pills that they should be stocked in a place that is EXTREMELY obvious. For example right AT THE FRONT DOOR so that women, such as myself, don't have to hunt around the store in the angry PMS induced RAGE that makes them want to throttle anyone who gets in their way with a bottle of "eaud de stinky headache inducer" that IS usually sold near the front of stores!!! Yes, Yes, I found them in the same aisle as all the other "gotta have because we don't really have a say in the matter" items, BUT they were in the middle...little colourful boxes mixed in and surrounded by other little colourful boxes making them HARD TO FIND which makes me cry...REALLY. But if you INSIST on putting them in an aisle with similar "oh this is best time of the month because it makes me SO SO SO HAPPY to be a woman" products surround them with BRIGHT LIGHTS! And WINE! We'd then be sure to find them with soothing, non yelling and throwing ease.

And that's all I have to say about that. Now DON'T BUG ME!!!

No, wait, one more thing...AND a bottle of "love...this won't hurt a bit as we trickle your anxiety away" remedy should be EASY to open!!! One should not have to damage their teeth or get out a hunting knife to pierce the shiny and impossible to get through seal of doom!!! Followed by (to quote the wonderful Dave Barry) "a piece of cotton the size of a small sheep". It's just plain MEAN to not have them easy to get at AFTER they've been hard to find. Actually, what they should do is have a lovely man servant waiting by the cash for you to pay for this "magic in a bottle" who will kindly open them for you with a smile, take 2 out for you (or however many you feel your "delightful mood" will need to disappear) and hand them to you with a glass of chilled sparking water for you to take them immediately and leave the store with a "smile". But don't forget the rest of those pills'll need them again soon....

Cin-ister thoughts be with you.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Help! I've been bit by the Procrastination Bug!

As we all have been from time to time eh Blog Fans? Today the bug has bitten because I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO and my brain hurts and when my brain hurts I get sleepy. My parents arrive tomorrow morning after a years absence from the Miramichi. We are all excited and for their arrival, but, as with any visit, this means a large amount of cleaning. Normally I can tackle cleaning with very little injury to my brain, but today I'm feeling overwhelmed by the thought of many weeks of cleaning and sorting and packing to come. Now don't get me wrong, we are also excited about our upcoming move into our new home. Sean and I will be celebrating our 11th anniversary next week and this will our first home purchase. It's been a long time coming. But but but..the packing...anyway...enough whining, it will get done, tired brain or no. I'm starting to pick away at it today while cleaning out drawers in our bedroom and bathroom for my parents. Well, for their things...I'm not making them sleep in a drawer....And while I was packing up a bedside table drawer I found a piece of my past in a brown envelope right at the bottom; poems from 10 years ago. In order to further my procrastination, I'm going type some of them out pour lovely BF's.


Devil Box

I am a potato without a couch.
One day I woke to find that my couch was missing.
In its place was a note.
It read "You have used me long enough to waste away your dreams
and your ambitions.
I have gone to live them for you."

So now I sit on the floor of my apartment.
I bask in the soft blue glow of my devil box
and wonder how my couch is doing.



Secrets of the soul
told only to the sea
become oceans of whispers
that wash up on the shore.

The memories of forgotten people
are picked up by strangers
and taken home
to be kept in jars.



I see the world reflected in my computer screen
I see myself
The world outside my windows, I don't know.
The world inside my windows, I know everything.
It is large enough.
It is fulfilling enough.
It is enough.
To keep me from knowing the world outside my windows.


Soul Music

We sit on a log watching the sea,
it's roar deafens us to other sounds.
The soaring of the gulls and the rhythm of the waves are soothing.
The music of the ocean
a beautiful symphony my heart loves to hear.
You say something to me,
but the salty breeze takes it away.
All I see is the movement of your mouth.
I smile because you are smiling and turn my head back to the sea
wishing that you too could be music for my soul.


And that's it for now Blog Fan's. Be nice...I was only the tender age of 25 when I jotted these down on company time at the currency exchange I was working at at the time.


I remain,
As CIN-ical as ever.

Friday, September 19, 2008

A Long Time Coming...

Hello Blog Fan(s?)

I have so much that I could write about, so much that I could gripe about, so much that I could wax about...but I'm not going to. Why? Because at the moment I'm too lazy to do an actual life update with "witty" anecdotes and "clever" prose. So instead you'll be stuck reading, no treated too, (let's be positive shall we?) a song a wrote during a phase of sweet lowness. After the theatre group I'm a part of finished it's first production, I got a bit moo as I like to say. And really, that was to be expected and is very normal for me. If have a high, I eventually have to low and feel very melancholy for a while which is a real treat for those who live with me let me tell you. I honestly use to feel terribly guilty about my highs and lows and would get angry at myself for feeling down. Now I just ride the wave and know it will pass and sometimes while in a low I'm hit with a bout of creativity and I produce something I love and it lifts me out of the well and into the "normal" state of me. Which is still a bit difficult for those lovely people who live with me. Anyway, enough rambling! I give you....

I Gotta Case of You

Mosquitoes flit before my eyes
Nighttime stars begin to glide
Past the moon beyond my sight
To where the heartaches go

Your image burns inside my mind
My heart will heal but not tonight
I'll be fine when the sun does rise
But now...I gotta case of you

I drink with your memory
Scotch whiskey, rye
But when they are empty
My tears won't be dry

Music drifts along the breeze
Songs of love sway with the trees
And you are dancing here with me
Oh when will my heartache go

Your image slips before my eyes
Will my heart heal? No not tonight
I pray to God when the sun does rise
I won't...have a case of you

I say that I hate you
You treat me so bad
But baby your kisses
They drive me so mad

A gentle wind tries to talk to me
Crickets play their symphony
Do they have any sympathy
For how deep my heartache goes

Your image burns inside my eyes
My heart will heal just give it time
When my Lord will that hot sun rise
Tonight...I gotta case of you

You said you would come back
But baby you're gone
I hope you don't come back
Cause we were too wrong

The river carries night away
Full moon's glow begins to fade
Soon I'll see the break of day
But not where the heartaches go

Your image always in my mind
Morning stars now glide on by
Telling me when that sun does rise
I'll still have a case of you

Oh no...I'll still have a bad case...of you

Cindy: "Well there you have it...are there any questions?"

Blog Fan: "Um yes Cindy....where did you get the idea for the song?"

Cindy: "Well, BF, I was listening to a KD Lang album called Hymns of the 49th parallel A LOT and KD's remake of the Joni Mitchel song 'A case of you' kept getting stuck in my head. One day while in the 'dough making zone', and feeling blue, my mind got to wandering and wondering and I thought it would be interesting if one had a 'case' of someone, like they had a sickness and Bob's your uncle, a song was born."

Blog Fan: "Wow that's super keen. Do you have a tune to go with this here song of yours?"

Cindy: "Why yes BF I actually do. It's in the key of E flat minor if you're wondering. And I am featured playing the song on the piano and singing it on 'Sorcha Video 5 for Gramma and Grandad'."

Blog Fan: "Neato! Where can I pick up a copy of that?"

Cindy: "Oh I don't know little BF, it's pretty hard to find..."

Blog Fan: "Awwww....shucks....but but but would you ever sing it in public? You know for kicks?"

Cindy: " day BF, with a little coaxing, some positive reinforcement and A LOT of wine."

Until next time Blog fans I remain yours,

Cinfully Delicious Blogger

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

A Tigger Tale

Hello one and...well...maybe more then one...

It is been a fair while since I last wrote...I have no excuse other then laziness is sometimes a close, personal friend. Well, it's spring, well, it is in some parts of the world...time to shed the winter coat of "moo-ness" and get on with the blogging!

This entry will be a tale of Tigger. One evening back in January while I was making dinner, Sorcha stormed out of her room to announce that Tigger had been very bad and was on a "time out!". "Why?" I asked. "What did Tigger do?" With her hands on her hips and a look on her face that she could only have learned from me she said "He fell out of bed...on purpose! 4 times Mummy!" "Oh..." I said. "Yes, so I had to put him on a time out, for an hour!" So I went to her room and there he was, sitting on her little purple Ikea stool in a corner feeling looking very slouchy and sorry. I said that an hour was pretty long and Sorcha that it had to be this way because it was craft and drama time for all her other dolls and he was missing out, and this was his punishment. I felt it was harsh, but she disagreed and said that he would be on his time out everyday from 3pm-4pm for 2 weeks, just to make sure he learned. "OK..." I said. "If you're sure this is what he needs." I myself have never put Sorcha on a time out longer then 6 minutes so I wasn't sure where she got this long term time out from. But she was, in her own words "Very angry at him" and felt this was a fair punishment.

So poor Tigger sat on his stool until Sorcha rushed into her room at 4pm and put him back in bed with a stern talking too. The next day I wondered if she would remember her promise of a 2 week time out phase and sure enough, at 3pm, Tigger was back on the stool looking very sorry for himself. The next day, Sorcha wasn't coming home from school right way, but going to her friend Kale's house on the bus. I asked her about Tigger.

"What about Tigger and his time out?"

"Well...maybe you could put him on before you come over to Kale's after work."

"I'm not coming home after work."

"Oh...well, maybe I'll put him on his time out now."

"An all day time out? Seems kind of mean..."

"Oh well...maybe he won't get one today then, but he'll get on tomorrow."

Poor Tigger...but fear not, this tragic tale has a happy ending. I guess he was grateful for the day off from slouching in the corner of Sorcha's room for an hour when he would rather be sleeping in bed (it's so hard on his back you know) and so on the 3rd afternoon after Tigger had committed the horrid sin of "falling out of bed on purpose...4 times" Sorcha announced that his punishment was over because he had apologized. What a tiger that Tigger.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

A matter of Facial Importance

Sean comments on his facial hair a lot....I mean a lot! He strokes it often and asks my opinion about shaving and what not and threatens more often then I like that he may grow a mustache...gah... I try to be supportive..."Yes dear, it's very nice...perhaps a goatee...trim if you'd like...yadda yadda yadda..." And he then says something like "You don't care about my facial hair. You don't think about it as much as I do."

Well, for his birthday, I decided to make him feel like I care about his facial hair almost on the same intellectual level that he does and wrote him an Ode. I give you...

Ode To Sean's Beard!

Through darkness I traveled.
In search of light, in search of...understanding.
Behold! On the horizon!
Was it salvation I saw?
The darkness parted, like Moses parted the sea.
The gleaming light came slowly at first, but then came
brilliant and quick!
As if on the heels of Mercury himself!
It's brightness was almost unbearable to mine eyes, eyes that had lived
in obscurity for too long.

T'was it the sun you say? Yes and yet...Nay you fool!
It was HE! SEAN! The Sean of this...SEAN'S BEARD!
Bathed in the glow of his golden whiskers he stood smiling at the Sun
for the Sun shines to give light to his marvelous chin.
If it were not for this wonder, this... SEAN'S BEARD, the Sun would perish.
She would turn her face away from the world for if there is not this, this... SEAN'S BEARD
to shine up...what is her purpose?

With one hand on his hip, with his robes flying in the mighty breeze that surrounded him,
he stroked his prize this... SEAN'S BEARD, slowly, lovingly
as if to reassure face that it was well in derservance of this dazzling display of facial awe
this...SEAN'S BEARD.

Can this man, dare we say this God, can he think of nothing else except that
which grazes his face, this...SEAN'S BEARD?
Nay, for how can he?
These thoughts are for him like breathing.
It is something he must do.
With every though, he is wrapped in the manliness that is his,
this...SEAN'S BEARD.
And do not think that it is conceit for you too would do the same
if you too were in possession of a treasure such as this,
this...SEAN'S BEARD!

I felt as if I should turn if I was not worthy of such an experience as witnessing
this...this...SEAN'S BEARD.
But I could not!
To have done so would have been to rob my eyes of that which gave it sight,
to become blind!
For no other sight is worth beholding after gazing upon the mightiness that is this,
this...SEAN'S BEARD!

He turned to me and smiled; his glowing face a compliment to his confident grin and said
"I think I'll shave..."
And I, as if struck down by the Hammer of Thor, fell down at his feet and cried,
"NO! For the love of all that is holy! For the hope of all beings who desire to possess a
radiance such as yours, do not peirce my soul! Do not deprive the world of your
glorious golden bounty!

He laughed, his head back to the sky. "Oh you obedient servant to my facial prowess,
fear not!
I only mean to give it a trim, to keep the perfection that is,
that always will be
that the world will forever behold

Now never again can Sean say I don't care about his facial hair. Perhaps I care about it...too much.

'til we meet again,

Cinfully Silly

Thursday, January 17, 2008

2008 is off to a good start...

Hello All

It has been a while, but life gets busy and my blog doesn't take priority I'm afraid...But I am back. The East Coast Rules have so far had a pretty good start to 2008. On January 7th, I won a photo contest. :) I entered the above picture into a photo contest at Shoppers Drug Mart in December (I didn't even know they had monthly photo contests. A lady who works there suggested I enter one of my photos when I was getting some of them printed off...) and was called on January 7th to be informed that I had won. I was thrilled to be honest! I hardly ever win anything! I won a copy of my photo, a $10 gift card and they are displaying it in the store for a month. I intend, eventually, to make a go of combining my photos with my hand made paper and try to sell them in gift shops or what not....

But the main event in my life at the mo is the start of the Miramichi, yet to be officially named, community Theatre group!! Oh, glorious, glorious be on you again makes my heart sing. We had our first meeting on the 15th and it was quite productive. First order of business; finding the right script!! We are hoping to have our first show up in late spring. I am giddy and a bit nauseous ( in a good way). I have been hoping this would happen here since we arrived here, and even considered trying to form a group myself, but had not the courage or resources so...I will keep all you posted on our script of choice as I'm sure the edge of your seats is where you will all be at until then!

All else is well in world of Rule. Sorcha received a camera from Santa and has taken a fair number of photos. I will ask her if she would like to post some soon.

Until next time...

Cinfully yours.