Thursday, November 20, 2008

Motel Mayhem - Starring........

There are days when I get home from work and marvel at the miracle that everyone survived the night. That I haven't clobbered anyone with a tire iron or a baseball bat yet is a feat unto itself. Aside from the interesting characters that stumble drunkenly saunter into my office, we have a few folks who live at the motel on a more permanent basis that provide entertainment for those of us who are unfortunate enough have the pleasure of working the front desk.

I'm 99.9% sure that I see more of these people than the other front desk staff, because I am the one who drew the short straw to perform the Night Audit duties. Either that or it's my cheerful, "come talk to me so I have a reason to kill myself" personality that entices them. Regardless, let me introduce you to a few of them today as I'm sure in the weeks to come they will provide fodder for this here blog.

The Creeper is our longest residing member of the "Let's Annoy the Mad Woman at the Front Desk" Pack. (Doesn't have quite the same ring as Rat Pack does it?). The Creeper is in his late 30s, and has resided at Motel Macabre for approximately 3 years now. Vertically challenged, portly and bald, he often resembles an overweight Mr. Noodles without the cute appeal. This fine specimen is most likely to be found skulking around the parking lot under the guise of having a cigarette. In actual fact The Creeper is merely waiting for the most opportune moment when Mad Woman is most engrossed in her book so that he might go regale her with yet another tale of how meaningless and boring exciting his life as a hermit is. Creeper will first appear within an hour of the beginning of a shift and will henceforth time his visits in such a way that one can not predict so as to avoid them.

Rain Man has been chilling at Casa Cheap-o for about 3 months now. While he is an incredibly nice person, he experiences much the same lag as one would expect from someone trying to download War & Peace on a dial up connection. Rain Man often makes his first appearance close to midnight, drifting in on a cloud of Maui Wowie. After determining how your night is progressing he will proceed to walk 10 steps behind you in the journey that is conversation. Thankfully his visits are short and infrequent, though always entertaining. Rain Man also has a protective side that will become apparent whenever The Creeper arrives, as well as any of the Miscreants.

Drunken Lout is one of the more entertaining residents, although admittedly hard work. (And I do not get paid to actually work!) Lout fancies himself a bit of a comedian and will tend to practice his stand up routine in office, no matter how hard you try to ignore him. Lout it also quick to anger when inebriated and will issue threats of bodily harm loudly and often, until he realises that should you poke him in the shoulder, he'll go over like a tree that's been munched by a beaver.

Miscreant #1 has checked in and out a couple of times and will likely continue to do so. Often confused with Drunken Lout, this Miscreant floats in not on a cloud of the Wacky Tabacky, but rather on the incredibly strong vapours of Mr. Daniels (Jack to his friends). Not interested in all the sordid details of the nasty divorce and custody battle? That's a shame because you'll hear them anyway. Story done, Miscreant #1 will vapourize (hehe) back to his room to watch nasty porn which he will subsequently leave in his room upon departure.

Miscreants #2 and #3 enjoy sitting outside their room shouting at any person passing by that might possibly have a penis between their legs. Should that person also happen to be in possession of hooch or drugs, their appeal increases tenfold. These ladies women girls get their rocks off by sleeping with as many passing male tenants as possible, and the occasional female. If intoxicated enough, they are apt to proposition whoever happens to be at the desk. Window screens will be flung into cars, cigarettes extinguished on bedspreads, sex traded for coke (and not the yummy, mixes well with Pop Rocks kind). Should you have reason to confront these two - and you will - go with bat in hand and an explanation prepared that no, the bat is NOT to be used for sexual games, sorry.

Pseudo-Security Guy (PSG) is the alter ego of The Creeper. PSG will take on the role of the boy in stories of ages past as he cries "Wolf" all night long. Or, in the case of Mayhem Motel, "Siren!". You see, PSG/Creeper has naught to do but peer through the window blinds in search of non existent trouble. A pleasant night it will be if you do not have call to extricate yourself from behind the desk to investigate yet another PSG claim.

"Mad Woman! I hear sirens in the next town over! This is surely a sign that the elderly woman in room #222 is beating her 25 year old boy toy with a walking stick for his refusal to rub cream on her hemorrhoids! YOU MUST INVESTIGATE!!"

**Beware: Should you make sounds of refusal, PSG/Creeper will begin to weep (I kid you not) as the realisation that you've had enough of his shit begins to sink in.

So there you have it folks. That is the regular cast list for the world that I am a part of at night. I'm sure from time to time others will make their way onto the list, and provide hours (ok, minutes) of entertainment and blog content. As I tried to dream up names for these wonders of nature, my mind kept flashing to various words.

Asshat. Dumbass. Fucktard.

All three appropriate, and yet not what was calling to me. And then it hit me! Two words that I once used on a regular basis when I lived in the UK.

Wanker. Wally.

Neither of these words is overly harsh, yet they seem so perfect for some of the people that I meet through my job. Honestly, I'm constantly amazed.

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Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Yup, naked under my clothes again.

While watching Dancing With the Stars last night, I was yet again amazed at how little clothing they can get away with out on that dance floor. Clearly not as amazed as Hotty Hubby as he watched Kym Johnson cavort around the dance floor in this:


I realise that they are technically in costume, but are you really considered IN costume if it is as skimpy as this? Personally I think it looks ok but the resident hotty is not so sure.

Hotty Hubby: "Humph. Must be nice to have a job where you can wear your underwear to work."




Hotty Hubby: "WHAT?!"


Moi: "'s just that I wear my underwear to work everyday. Don't you?"

I'm pretty sure he's still trying to figure out how to respond because all I got at the time was some stuttering before he went back to watching Lacy Schwimmer bouncing around the floor.

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Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A standing ovation for you, Mr. Olbermann

I'm sure many of you have seen this or read the transcript that accompanies it. But I still think it warrants sharing.

I have always respected him and his views on various subjects but when I first read the transcript for this video, I was moved. To then see him read those words, with all the emotion and emphasis that they require, I found myself cheering.

Everything that I have thought about, everything that I have wanted to say, everything that I wish everyone was saying was just spoken by this wonderful man in a much more concise and eloquent manner than I could muster in my previous post.

I can only hope that many people see this. That enough people question the VERY off kilter wording of the Proposition, and that they ask for the decision to be revoked in whatever way necessary.

You can read the transcript HERE.

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Thursday, November 6, 2008

Mixed Emotions

Not too long ago, I posted a blurb that got me thinking about the differences between the Blue candidate and the Red candidate. Until I found said blurb, I had only half heartedly been following the whole election process, the selection of the candidates and subsequently the entire Presidential race. After reading the blurb (so shoot me...I like the word blurb), I became even more interested. I already knew that I liked B.O. and that I wasn't sure about J.M. but I wanted to make sure I had all the information. I wanted to be informed. I started researching more into everything. Honestly, everything I read just made me like B.O. even more. J.M. still had my respect, I agreed with some of the things he stood for, but I was still wary.

When people read that post, I got a couple of emails and one comment saying how glad they were that I couldn't a Canadian. At first, I took exception to that. It ticked me off that because I had posted something that was so clearly pro-Obama, it would provoke a comment like that. It bothered me that because my choice of candidate (if I could have one) was not as they wanted, that they would be glad of my inability to vote. Then I thought about it. It's a fair comment, an honest opinion and one that I respect. I have often thought the same thing about people whose choice of political party differed from mine. "Ugh...I wish they couldn't vote". How ridiculous of me to think that....if we didn't all have different opinions, how boring would this world be?

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it wasn't the comment that upset me per se, it was the fact that NO, I couldn't vote in the U.S. election. I got over it, and I tried to keep this blog as politics free as possible. I think I did fairly well. I have continued to watch everything play out, discussed things with friends and family, and sat quietly by hoping to see history matter what that history was.

I have many American friends - Republicans and Democrats alike. We've discussed things at length and it's always nice to hear thoughts and opinions that differ from mine, even if I don't always agree with them.

This past Tuesday night, I was happy to see that much hoped for history realised. I came rushing home from a PTA meeting and switched the channel on my Hotty Hubby (much to his non political dismay). To hear that Obama had won the Presidency, that such a monumental event had taken place was amazing. I had tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat and JOY in my heart.

I honestly did NOT think that I would see this happen in my lifetime. I had always hoped I would, but I certainly wasn’t holding my breath. So to see history being made, my day became that much better. I feel like a collective weight has been lifted off the world’s shoulders. I see hope in people’s eyes, and happiness in their voices. I am looking forward to seeing what this charismatic, intelligent and people minded man can do with his country, and by extension the world, in the next 4 to 8 years.

On the flip side, I was also incredibly happy to hear John McCain's speech. FINALLY it seemed like the man was back. My respect came back for him somewhat as I listened to his amazingly gracious speech and heard him announce his support of the new President Elect. What hurt to hear was the Boos from the crowd each time he mentioned Obama. I fully understand the disappointment of not seeing your candidate make it to the White House but that was immature and quite frankly annoying. Kudos to McCain for silencing it.

So that was the happy moment for Tuesday....seeing history made, and seeing the hope all over so many people's faces...amazing. I honestly hope that he can bring the people together and help dig the US out of the hole that it has sunken into in recent times. Whether you are Red or Blue....I hope you'll support your new President.

As the title of this post suggests though, I have been having mixed emotions. Not about the Presidency. No...I was happy to see B.O. make it. My sadness - and that's exactly what it is, sadness - lies in the decision that came about in California.

In the midst of my joy over the election of Barack Obama, I was at the same time saddened to see that Proposition 8 had been passed. It was not that long ago that I danced around my living room doing my “happy dance” as Ellen Degeneres announced that she and Portia De Rossi were getting married. I had yet more tears in my eyes as I saw the beautiful pictures of them on their wedding day, not to mention reading about all the other folks tying the knot. It was another wonderful piece of history….an extension of what we had already achieved here in Canada. Since 2005 it has been legal here in Canada for a same sex couple to marry. It makes me proud to say that.

I have many gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered friends. To see those rights taken away, the same rights that are awarded to me, makes me mad. It angers me, as it does many people that I know, that the religion card can be played to prevent same sex couples from marrying, but it does not matter one iota that I got married in a park with a Justice of the Peace officiating and took ALL mentions of God out of our vows.

Like many of you out there, and many of my friends, my focus was on my husband on my wedding day. I entered into an agreement with HIM. I promised to love and cherish HIM. I vowed be with HIM forever. God had nothing to do it. God was not invited. I wasn't interested in God that day. Does that sound harsh? Probably. Could that statement alone alienate some of you? Possibly, though I hope not. I would hope that you can see beyond the lack of God in my marriage ceremony. Did the powers that be, the ones that decide if my marriage is more legal than another's, care that God wasn't asked to the party? No….because I married a penis, not a vagina.

And yet, if my beautiful, wonderful, loving friend Kelsey (I love ya hon!) wants to get married down there in San Diego….Sorry babe! No can do!

Screw that noise.

I'm disappointed. As a friend of mine said recently on her own blog

I thought California was a little more progressive but I guess not.

I'll second that.

I sincerely hope that someone takes another look at this. I really do.

Alright, I'm hopping down off my soap box now, preparing for the onslaught. Be gentle.

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Sunday, November 2, 2008

On the road...err...plane? again.

Awhile back, I mentioned that there was a potential move coming up for my family. A potentially BIG move. One that could be life changing for us, provide more opportunities in some areas, and perhaps less in others. A move that could see a lot of the emotional stress that we (I) have experienced in months past disappear.


That move is finally happening!

I grew up a military brat, so moving is nothing new to me. In fact, this is the longest I have stayed anywhere. 8 years in one city is a huge thing for me, and feels a little weird. To compensate for the weirdness (as if I could), and to drive Hotty Hubby a little bit nuts (easily done), we have lived in 7 different houses in those 8 years. And if I can't move house, I move furniture. He learned long ago to turn lights on when he entered the house at night if I was sounding like I needed to move again. There's nothing quite like walking into your own house and crashing into something that wasn't there 4 hours ago.


Well, now we'll be starting over again. We are busily selling everything we own and trying to find a home for the one wonderful pet we own.

We are heading to the "Land of the Long White Cloud". To Aotearoa. To the "youngest country on earth". We're New Zealand.

11 years ago, when my mom and stepfather announced we were moving to NZ, I alternated between balking at the idea (dude, my friends were all in the UK) and being incredibly excited (hello?! NZ!!). I went with them, but three years later I decided that it wasn't that I wasn't making an effort, it was that NZ sucked ass. Hindsight being what it is, I can see now that I was wrong. Had I actually bothered putting in any effort and made friends, gotten a better job or even moved to a different town, things would have been different.


Instead, I moved back to Canada in 2001, and shortly thereafter I met Hotty Hubby and had kids. Now, we're heading back with our hopes high but not unrealistic. We realise that we're giving up some things to go. We also realise that it might take awhile to get on our feet. But we have support. Our friends and family here support us, and my mom and sister are there.

So there you have it! We're flying away. Going to the land of the reverse toilet flushing, the amazing All Blacks, and the super laid back attitude of the people. My kids will feel at home walking around barefoot most of the summer, my husband will feel at ease with the relaxed way that everyone is, and I am looking forward to just ..being.


Tell me about your moving stories, where have you moved to? What's the furthest you've gone either permanently or just to visit? Any international moving advice you can give someone like me who isn't shipping anything except our clothes and ourselves?


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