Courage

I have more fodder for the Hall of Shame:

I was in Wal-Mart, looking at hair products, when the bottle I was holding fell from my hands and crashed to the floor. The top came off and a sticky white goo oozed across the floor. I picked it up and tried to put it back together, to no avail. So I precariously balanced the top on the jar and put it on the shelf. I then went to the "Beauty" Department (if it can really be called that in a Wal-Mart. I've yet to see anything beautiful in there. Well, maybe once, but I was looking in the mirror) to buy make-up I can ill afford, and pay for my hair care choices. As I was waiting at the till, an employee came past me, covered in a sticky white goo (a look I am all too familiar with) and asked for a tissue. I was going to tell her that Kleenex is no good when you're trying to clean that off, but decided to hold my tongue.

I couldn't help but overhear what had happened. She was straightening bottles on the shelves in the hair care isle when she grabbed one off the shelf and the top flew off and sticky white goo shot all over her. I hid my mirth long enough to pay for my purchases and listened with a mixture of glee and guilt while the cashier and my victim talked about the nerve of some people. I guess they would have preferred that I had left the bottle on the floor, instead of trying to cover up the crime. I nearly apologised to the employee but the way the two of them were nattering on I decided it would be most unwise to bring my guilt to light.

I left there feeling more like myself than I had in a while, because the new and improved me (and decidedly very un-Elizabethan me) would have apologised and bought the broken bottle, while the old (and very Elizabethan me) would have laughed out loud and offered the poor woman advice on receiving "the facial". I guess I'm devolving into my old self, mean and cynical, jaded and heartless, and that is what I need right now. A touch of heartlessness to help me with the unpleasant tasks that are awaiting me.

Turdus Migratorius

I have a new stalker. And this one takes the cake. He peers at me through the window when I'm watching TV. I hear him tapping on the glass when I'm in bed. He's constantly looking for a way in. I'm afraid to go outside, for fear of what he'll do to me. And the worst part, he's a bird. A dirty Red-Breasted Robin.

He stares at me with his beady little eyes, eyes that reflect the evilness of his little bird brain. I know what he wants. He wants to peck my eyes out and feed them to his children. But I won't let it happen. I will be victorious over the harbinger of spring. He can hop around in the grass pretending to look for worms, but I know better, and while he is plotting his devious little plots, I will be preparing for my own war on terror.

You can mark my words, Little Robin Red Breast has twittered his last.

Here he is, staring in the window, unaware that I was watching him. And yes, that is a chair carved from a tree stump. Don't ask.

Tragedy

My house guest is dead, I found him this morning in the kitchen. It looks as if it was peanut butter related. (As in that's what was use to bait the trap)

Keeper 1 - Elizabeth 0

Yes the roads were bad, and yes I should have stayed home. I will more than likely sleeping on the couch again tonight.

(And on that note, just to clarify from my earlier post, the mouse that I saw in the spare bed was not dead, it was just hanging out, sleeping in the bed like it belonged there. I figured I would be a gracious hostess and allow it the comfort of the bed while I took the couch. Sorry for the confusion)

Civil Disobedience: The Day After

What can I say. I went to Calgary. I got the shoes. I stayed longer than I was allowed to (I was supposed to go, get the shoes, and come right home, no dilly-dallying around). I came home to a moody Keeper who was upset about me going, me staying, and me coming home late. And I had a shitty night, which ended with me sleeping on the couch, because there was a mouse in the bed of the guestroom. Were the shoes worth it? You bet your ass they were.

And today there will be more disobedience. I was told that the roads are too bad for me to go to Rocky today for the Thursday English Torture Session for the Koreans. This excuse seems to being coming more from his desire to boss me around than from a concern for my safety. Yes it's snowing, and yes the roads are bound to be wet and a little bit slick, but I have been driving in Canada for thirteen years , and I do know something about travelling safely in winter conditions. I'm so sick and tired of hearing those words: You better not go because the roads are too bad. That's why I wasn't supposed to go to my Birthday Party (which I did anyway), that's why I wasn't supposed to go to Lethbridge (which I did), that's why I had to stay in Lethbridge for two extra days, and that's why I had to stay in Calgary the day I came home from Lethbridge (which I did with great pleasure).

I wish that I could somehow convey to him that I am not his teenager and that I am an adult and I, not The Keeper, am in control of me. For the record: ELIZABETH PARK CANNOT BE CONTROLLED BY ANYONE. SHE WILL DO WHAT SHE PLEASES AND GO WHERE SHE PLEASES, REGARDLESS OF THE ROAD CONDITIONS!!

Civil Disobedience

I have new shoes. They are waiting for me in Calgary. Unfortunately I have been told that I'm not allowed to drive to Calgary for a pair of shoes. This presents a problem for me. I need these shoes by Saturday. In fact I MUST HAVE these shoes by Saturday, so right now I am preparing to go to Calgary and spend a fortune on gas to retrieve a pair of shoes I already have spent another fortune on. According to the Keeper, a fortune in gas would be the $78.26 it costs to fill the tank in my car. I'm sure he will pee his pants when he finds out the shoes are well over $100, and the dresses that need these particular shoes cost nearly $300. This is why you don't give me your bank card and say, "Buy your self something nice." I will happily obey this command, however, I am going to Calgary for the shoes. End of story.

Maybe not quite the end of the story. Since when has the Keeper been so concerned about how much I spend on gas? He is in charge of ripping it from the ground. He makes a lot of money doing this. We can afford to put gas in my car. We can afford to put fuel in his truck and my car. We can also afford to heat the garage with it's poorly insulated door (meaning the door has an R factor of zero) all winter to the tune of $200 a month, when a new door would cost less than $500, with an automatic garage door opener. We can afford to waste all kinds of money, but all of a sudden we can't afford a tank of gas in order for me drive to Calgary just for a pair of shoes?

Something is fishy here. And by the way, it's not just for a pair of shoes. I will also be visiting my friends (which I suspect is the real issue here), and maybe doing some more shopping. Enjoying the waning freedom of buying things without looking at the price tag. Which I suspect will be coming to a screeching halt in the near future. But that is not the point.

The point is that I cannot be commanded not to do something by someone who claims to be my equal partner in our relationship, but constantly orders me around like some kind of tyrant. I am going to get the shoes, and you, Keeper, are going to have to live with it. And THAT is the end of the story.

An Open Letter

Dear Keeper,

Once again, since you won't listen to what I have to say, I am forced to put it out for the world to see in order to get it off my chest.

Please, when you are driving with me in the vehicle, could you not incite others into fits of road-rage? And if you do something that others may consider impolite or poor driving, could you apologise to them instead of screaming out the window at them at red lights? And if someone pisses you off, would it really be so bad to just let it go, rather than chase them around town in order to ask them to pull over and resolve the issue via a fistfight on the side of the road?

I'm afraid I'll have to illustrate your bad behavior with a couple of examples.

Yesterday, in Red Deer, you cut someone off on the bridge. He wasn't happy about it and chose to take a page from your book and gesticulate and yell out his window. At the stop light, you both rolled down your windows and when asked "What his fucking problem was," he replied that you had "cut him off." An appropriate response would have been, "Sorry, buddy, I needed in that lane." The inappropriate response (and of course the one you chose to use) was, "I'll cut your head off!"

I'm sorry, did you really threaten to cut off someone's head in the middle of traffic on a busy road in Red Deer? A normal person does not do that. A normal person does not also threaten to cut off MY head if I don't shut up when questioned about the wisdom of such a threat.

Another driving related problem I would like to discuss with you is your behavior when driving my car. It is very distinctive, and is the only one like it in our town. Therefore, if you are driving it and acting like an asshole, the general public is going to assume that I am the one behind the wheel, and I don't need that. I strive to be a courteous driver, and I go to great lengths to control my temper whilst driving, and don't need you making a bad impression in my car.

Also, remember the time you stood on the corner at the only four-way stop in Caroline screaming at the guy in the gravel truck to get out and fight you, or the time you blocked a guy in at the post office for parking in what you deemed to be a no parking zone, and then calling him on, or the time you chased the red neon throughout the county because of some perceived traffic violation which you felt you had to rectify with a beat down? These things are unacceptable in polite society, and are even unacceptable in rigging society. They have to stop before you wind up in jail, and believe me, that's where you're headed. You don't stand on street corners screaming at truckers, or tell strangers (or your girlfriends) that you are going to cut off their heads. And if you insist on driving like this, then I must insist that we take separate vehicles, because you act like a beast when I'm the one driving as well.

Thank you for your complete understanding in this matter, I'm sure that you will take every word to heart.

Sincerely,

The Captive