Category Archives: Humour

Do your best to look at all situations, good and bad as a little bit funny…

Sock it to me

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socks-with-holesSome time ago I tried to organize my life. I got rid of old clothes, started re-wearing my wardrobe, bought a shoe rack and tossed all my socks with holes in them. I did this thinking that cleaning up my loft would inadvertently clean up my mind. I was at the backend of yet another misadventure of the heart and was trying to keep my thoughts off the ever impending “will he text” question that nowadays, for many, seems to be the meaning of life. To Text or Not to Text, the new moral dilemma, the never-ending cauldron of doubt and a multitude of technological mishaps only make for more confusion than ever before.

I was doing this with my friend and at the time we were having the never-resolved discussion of accountability, dating, what it all means, who we like or don’t and trying to appease the guilts or angers we had with a little organizing…and a lot of alcohol. He was two days deep into a texting marathon and mine was just coming to a crashing halt.

Anyway, opinions are like assholes. Everybody’s got one. A co-worker told me that pride is over-rated; if you want to know, just send a message. Another friend says she always holds out until she gets mad enough to call a spade a spade. Another friend says that her pride is too strong to ever message somebody where wires were crossed, and yet in the right mood she will put up with more crap from a guy than I ever would. My former boss once told me that if she had the balls 20 years ago she had now; life would’ve gone a lot smoother. There is no point in not saying what you want to say because people regret the things they didn’t do more than the ones they did. And that ass that blew you off? Well, whether you send one more message explaining your side or not, they still blew you off. Same outcome. Thought for the day guys and gals.

So, like my attempt to clean up and simplify dating, I tried to do the same for my wardrobe. When deciding between the no name 4-pack or the brand name 3-pack of socks, we decided to go the quality route. Maybe, just maybe my choices would rub off in all areas of life. Funnily enough, those more expensive quality socks? They tore a hole, downloadafter only one wear. Socks, like life, even with thought and exertion… can still let you down.

“Fucking socks. You put a little effort into getting a better pair and there are still holes in them…” – Anonymous

 

The Ginga Ninja

Life in a Nutshell or Nuthouse?

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squirrel_600__18845-1431804042-190-250When oh when will the day come where I become that person I always wanted to be? I won’t second guess, I won’t make decisions for the wrong reasons, well better yet, I’ll only make the right decisions and I’ll always put myself first. When will my pride outweigh my humiliation, when will my choices always make me feel good, when will my decisiveness outweigh my doubts? No falters, no fear, no regret and certainly no embarrassment.

The problem is, that is the version of life I was very stupidly trying to attain, hell, I think many people were. You think if you follow a certain series of steps, benchmarks, events, milestones and mentors that you won’t question your outcomes, avenues, wealth or worth.

Unfortunately being human means being imperfect and being imperfect means you will never ever make the right decision or have the right reaction in every situation. In a bad mood you may yell at your cat, when feeling ansy you may have one beer to many, you may text back too fast, you may call back too slow, you may talk to the wrong boy, you may marry the wrong girl. You may make a poor financial decision, find yourself let go from a job, burn the lawn, burn your mind, overdo narcotics, hell, overdo sports, alienate your friends, lose your dog, lose your mind. People aren’t perfect, plain and simple, people screw up.

So, each time I think “why did I do that?” or think that if only I had done something differently, or hell could have crazy-alarm-clockchanged the outcome…I have to realize that life is full of twists and turns. And you know what…it’s not where you land that make it life, it’s those windy passages along the way. The learning of a new lesson, finding a new bar, making a new friend, discovering a new passion, removing burdens, discarding demons, realizing that you can mess up and still stand…that, in a nutshell my friend, is life.

The only road to happiness is to realize there is no Road to Happiness – Robin Williams, A Merry Friggen Christmas

Tight Ropes and True Love

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Relationships are a delicate balance. Not too long ago, I was texting with a friend and we both realized just HOW MUCH goes into whether or not you and another person will work out.  Geography, Religion, Politics, Education, Finances, Family, Values, Looks, Friends, Interests, Sex Life and maybe most important of all, that bitch called Timing.

There are just so many things that can make a relationship unwork itself. And often that is after it’s already started. Don’t even get me started (see that?) on dating in general. It is so easy to rule somebody out early on for a fault, or let’s be more accurate a perceived fault. It takes years to get to know someone and technology has made dating harder. If you have different text rules, don’t use the right punctuation or seem to be too endearing too quickly, well, you are out. This doesn’t even include those who were already discluded for poor grammar, salary, height, the wrong education or wrong town. Hell, this definitely doesn’t include those who just fell out of the ugly tree. True love, or true tolerance, you be the judge.

Dating is a fragile tightrope that more often ends before it has even begun, even if you can stay balanced, you may just run out of rope…particularly as we get older and more set in our ways. That intricate interwoven security can unravel in an instant – seamlessly, effortlessly, carelessly, pointlessly. (I’m surprised that’s even a word, go me). So, every time you feel frustrated, unloved, uncertain, unfulfilled – just remember, there is a lot that goes into relationships, and life, and you. And when you feel a loss of control, just focus on that last one, because, really, it’s all you can do.

Be careful with alterations.  Pull the wrong thread and the whole thing comes undone.                                                       Samantha, Sex and the City

The Ginga Ninja

Lucille Ballsy

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Lucille-Ball-i-love-lucyIt’s long folks, but it’s probably worth the read if you need to feel like a winner today.

I’m clumsy, and ridiculous, and things just happen to me. No, seriously…picture a movie scenario and I bet ya that has happened in my real life. I constantly get told my world is like a sitcom and I’m that bumbling comedic actress with poor spatial awareness and my foot in my mouth. And a beloved ginger to boot!

Picture a scenario where you have a fling with your ex’s best friend…and he tells him at the bar…with you there. You are literally standing in a line as this real-life horror movie telephone plays out…and then he puts his arms around you both and says, “Ya, that really just happened”. Imagine that in all the bars in a city of over 5 million people your common-law ex walks into your very bar with his birthday party, only weeks after breaking up, annnd he doesn’t even live in that  town. Break up on New Year’s Day only to have your car die on the way home in a snowstorm and because of that hallowed day there’s not a gas station open for miles, so your tow truck driver and his son dry your salty tears and obviously, offer you homemade chicken nuggets and fries too.

Stories like this just seem to go on and on. Ridiculous stories. Funny stories. Awful stories as long as they don’t happen to you. You eat Chinese food and you faint at the foot of your Asian co-worker, you get a flu shot and almost land in hospital (oh the irony). You tell your boss that he looks too young to have a 14 year old daughter and he answers “I am, and she’s 17…and I was 17 when I had her. She was an accident, but thank you.” You leave your purse on a subway and end up in a month-long battle with a hooker for its return. You order a cab and walk away with a proposal. Even more insulting? A friend of mine was offered two camels for her pretty little hand…and my cabbie didn’t offer me anything but arranged wedded bliss.  Aw shucks.

Not long ago, the funniest of all comedic moments happened to me. Warning, this may not work in writing the way it would on TV, but do your best to make a mental picture as we go. Trust me, like Nike says, just DO it.

I was trying to throw a load of laundry in at a friend’s place while she was at work, but we had partied like it was 1999 just the night before. She seemed cool with this arrangement, so long as nobody was there when she returned, she was tired, she was cranky, she was hungover. So, I threw in the load and headed triumphantly out the door to tackle some errands. Well, one thing led to another and like is life, everything took longer than expected. By the time I got back to her house I figured I had enough time to toss the load in the dryer and then mysteriously sneak out like I was never there. Like a ninja. Except…..it had stopped. The goddamn washer had stopped.

So, like a pregnant teenager, I furtively tried to convince myself it had finished the cycle, but as I continued to pull sopping, dirty, clothes out of the washer…I realized in horror, it had stopped about a minute after I left.

I just wasn’t in the mood to explain it wasn’t working or see her disappointed face when she got home, stupid people pleaser that I am. So, I did what any logical person would do, I continued to load the clothes into the dryer, literally dripping wet. As more and more water sloshed onto the floor, I naively convinced myself I could get them dry enough to still sneak out in time. It was going to work, it had to work.

But, the closer I got to the bottom of that basin, the more pooling water there was.  Pooling, brown, dirty water. I started frantically searching my mind trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. Soooo, I started scooping out the water with a cup, but, Martha Stewart washes her freaking dishes by hand (even with a dishwasher), so I needed to wash the damn cup to hide the evidence. But, there was not a dry dishcloth in sight, so I had to use a clean one and then refold it in the drawer as though it was never used…sneaky, sneaky. To get rid of the last little bit of water in the bottom of the basin, I was going to use paper towels, but she was out, so Plan B, toilet paper, but that was down to one roll too! Plan C – I used her hand towels. These became drippy, dirty little messes and no matter how much I tried to ring them out…they just didn’t appear dry. So, I threw em in the dryer…with the very, very, very wet, still-dirty clothes.

In the meantime, the inside of the washer was hairy and gross, so I ended up using a bit of the toilet paper to clear this new problem up. And yes, once again, I did what any rational person would do. I tried to flush the wad of dirty toilet paper down the actual toilet (can’t leave the evidence in the garbage can of course). However, as is my fate, the toilet overflowed…annnndddd she doesn’t own a plunger.

So, what now you ask? Well, I ended up having to fish it all out by hand and resort to Plan D, just toss it all in my bag to bring home. Still, there was now water at the top of the toilet bowl rim, so back to Plan A, out comes the now clean cup again to be rewashed. Saga over you think? Now I’ve poured toilet and dirty basin water into her sink…so mother fucker, the sink too you ask?  Oh yes, the sink too.

After all this is said and done, it gets even better…she texts me that she’s on her way back, EARLY.

So I go to grab my now not-even-remotely-dry clothes and all I’ve managed to do is cover the inside of her dryer with hair and animal dander. Ugh, so NOW, I’m shoving wet clothes into my bags, using more toilet paper to wipe out the inside of her dryer and trying to use her shower towel to get the water off the floor. Big sigh and heavy-hearted I hung all her wet dirty towels back in the guest bathroom and hoped by the time she went in there they would be miraculously dry.

Well, turns out they were. And a bit discoloured. And a bit oddly wrinkled. I guess she noticed a couple of weeks later. Also, those errands I went to do? Well, those errands were driving a third friend to a neighbouring town. So, as it turns out…weeks later she did go to use that bathroom…and discovered the toilet was indeed plugged. She blamed it on our friend (I knew she would) and oddly enough, she also wondered where her toilet paper went. So, when annoyed she told me that our friend had plugged her toilet and used all the paper, I burst into laughter. Damn, and I was so in the clear….ish.

Either way, as I sit here writing this, tears are streaming down my face. As they have been for the last hour or so….from laughter. The whole reason I started writing this entry in the first place was because tonight I was painting. Painting something for this very friend. And I used oil paint, which I never use. Bright, neon orange, oil paint. The more I tried to wash this off the brush, my hand and out of the sink, the thicker and more stuck it became. It just kept spreading and was becoming a gelatinous mess and in the meantime, a scab on my hand had peeled off…and I was bleeding…and eventually I didn’t know what was blood and what was paint. Soon it just looked like a murder scene…but, as I stared at my bright orange, gooey, blood-stained hand I laughed and thought…yes, a clown’s murder scene.

So, I hung my shoulders, shook my head, giggled and thought….sigh…this could only happen to ME…or….Lucille Ball.

Ricky, get dinner ready, because I’m coming home.

The Ginga Ninja

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The Best Things in Life Aren’t Free

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x354Money makes the world go round. It’s sad, but hell, it’s true. Truer than true in fact. There are so many old sayings about money that it’s not even funny (maybe I should go back to sad), but that’s because it is so integral to our everyday life. Long gone are the days where you forage the land for food, trade services for survival or even when just having one income, one car in the garage and a roof over your head were the definition of success.

No, today success comes in many forms. Unfortunately the most obvious being vacations, wealth and things. Do we really need so many things? Should there really be at a minimum THREE television shows about hoarding?  And since when did “likes” on Facebook mean more than actually liking your own life? Who cares if somebody else likes that you went to a concert or how you set up your new coffee table, isn’t all that matters that you do?

I’m as guilty as the rest of them. I’ve had periods of being pretty “modern-day” poor and I can worry like a champ. I can splurge and spend as well as I can save and thrift.  The funny thing when it comes to wealth is it’s all about liquidity. How much do you have access to at any one time? For some reason that integral point seems to be the defining factor between perceived wealth and actual.

I am as poor as I’ve probably ever been – don’t own a house, still have loans to pay, yet for some reason have started handing out dolla bills as though I’m a big deal. I think it’s because suddenly that money is in my hand and it is my choice as to whether it goes to debt, vacation, entertainment, stuff or savings. It is up to me what percentage goes where and for some reason, this empowering feeling is a misconception of being successful. In reality, I am no better off than when I made less money and spent less on things, food and “stuff” – but it’s all about quality of life, all about how much it feels like I have, not actually about how much I have on paper (well, online statement, let’s be green here).

It got me thinking. I have a very wealthy family member…remarried and up to his eyeballs in debt, yet the fact that he has an enviable yearly income makes him seem untouchable beyond compare. On a daily basis I also see homeless vagabonds – holes in their mittens, scuffs on their shoes, pride on their signs; begging with their coffee cups. That hobo, that scruffy bum with $10 in hand is in truth wealthier than that lawyer, doctor, entertainer or dentist with debt. It’s not about what you have on paper, but in theory, right?

Well, once upon a time credit wasn’t accessible, credit cards didn’t exist and people didn’t need so much space or so many things. Toys were baseballs and ragdolls, cardboard swords, tree forts and old bicycles. Once upon a time there was no social media – nobody cared about your boring trip to see your grandparents in Florida, or the time you went camping. Vacations for me were roadtrips, summer jaunts, campgrounds and cabins. There was no European cruise, or South American jungle tour. There was no credit card for kids or even education funds to prep us for the all important (and expensive) education we are now forced to obtain.

That brings me back around to where we started – money makes the world go round. Whether you are happy or sad often depends on money, which is too bad. But, all those things that make you happy – books, gaming stations, vacations in the sun, hell, even heat for your house – well, they all cost money. So, though money can’t buy you happiness, it can buy you the things that make you happy.

Oh the sad, sad irony.

“While money can’t buy happiness, it certainly lets you choose your own form of misery.”   – Groucho Marx

The Ginga Ninja

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Lose your Keys, Lose your Mind

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e3a60c0cfa92ffd6a76ee790d593db35I heard something funny recently. You know how people lose something and then they search for days and finally find it…often you hear them exclaim, “Augh. It’s always in the last place I looked!” Well, hello, Einstein…OF COURSE it’s the last place you looked.  If you found it, why would you keep searching?

When I heard that I gave a little giggle.  I never thought of it like that…and yet, how many times have I heard that announced when the precious item is at last discovered?  Well, I am that genius today…and many days.  I am completely, 110% guilty of misplacing things.  I always have more than one thing on my mind…so when it comes time to put something down, I truly put it down.  I rarely think about where, when, in what room or what state. I figure that you can only strive for perfection in so many areas and elsewhere something has got to give.  For me, losing things is my something, but whether it’s my keys or my mind is usually the real question. Amen to that.

The Ginga Ninja

Still Tastes Sweet

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il_340x270.298542240Dear god it’s crazy what only a few hours can do. One moment you are convinced all is okay in your world and only a few short hours later you are looking up strays online to prepare yourself for the crazy cat ladyhood that is bound to come your way.

Dating is frustrating. And tiring. And there are just so many ups and downs. Every single time I think I have wrapped my head around it, and around me in it…a new twist turns up. (Get it? Twists and Turns). You get it.

But, I don’t. Why do we do this to ourselves? Because for every 40 losers we try, there might be 2 with actual chances of survival and even those have slim odds nowadays. I guess we do it for the glimmer in our eye (or ache in our loins), the Rom Coms we love so much, the elderly couple holding hands and the tear shed on a wedding day. Even if that wedding didn’t last so long, the emotions of the day will live on forever. On our iPhones.

Seriously though – why does dating need to be so exhausting? Don’t hate the player, hate the game so they say.

I know the answer. I know that it’s the payoff every now again that makes it worthwhile. It’s the partnership, sharing, intimacy and desire to validate the meaning of our life with another living soul. But, somehow I feel there has to be an easier way. Like ice cream. Or for us hypoglycemics out there some horrible sugar-free alternative. Maybe that’s what we need. A sugar-free alternative to love.

The Ginga Ninja

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