JUKEBOX BORN DAY FUN

 

Had such a great night celebrating Jukebox's early birthday - I wanted to share.

Japanese fusion for dinner and competitive trivia for dessert.
A good time was had by all!!

To my eldest boy... All the best in 2022.
We love you very much xo
(1-r) Tam-a-Lamb, Jukebox, Baby Daddy, Goob & introducing wee Goat.

TAKEN: FEBURARY 5th, 2022

D IS FOR DECADES

 From the April A-Z Blogging archives. 

This was originally posted April 4th, 2020

I will start by apologizing to my subscribers. 

I've had two unexpected deaths in our family, which has left me a week behind in my April A-Z Blogging Challenge. So, you will receive an entire weeks' worth of posts today and tomorrow. 

Truth is, I considered quitting. Then I realized I didn't want to. I figured I would give it a good push in an effort to get back on schedule by Easter Monday April 13th.

The letter D was harder than I thought it would be, because I'd decided to post a various pictures of myself from each decade. Finding them was the challenge. I hope you enjoy them.

Thanks for your patience,

Rhondi

Pretty Curls
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1969

Lake Louise with my Mama
TAKEN: JULY 1976

High School Daze
TAKEN: MAY 1984

Tampa, Florida
TAKEN: APRIL 1989

Labour Day Monday at Santa's Village
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 1996

The summer we lived at the cottage.
TAKEN: JULY 2002

Sweetie & Me ~ Westin Harbour Castle
TAKEN: MAY 2008

Top of El Arco - Mazatlan, Mexico
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2019

Y IS FOR YIKES

#YaGottaLaughAboutIT

COLOUR MY WORLD

Have you ever heard the saying, ‘your best laid plans never hatch?’

You see, I was supposed to go see Chicago (the band) Friday night but folded like a lawn chair because I just didn’t have any fuel left in my tank.

Though my plans had been in place before my birthday trip to New York, I had no idea my precious Toronto Raptors would win the NBA title, keeping me up until 2am and have me sitting at my desk less than six hours later.

So, I abandoned the tickets but managed to keep my end of day hair appointment.

My plan was to simply pop in for a trim, but when I sat in the chair & spied myself in the mirror, I instantly knew I needed some sort of a change.

Truth is, in the moment I wished I could instantly drop 20lbs & be 21 again; but changing my hair colour seemed like an excellent starting point at 4pm on a quiet Friday afternoon.

Excited that my rainy day photo wasn't a selfie...
TAKEN: JUNE 15th, 2019

Change. Such a big word.

As I sit here and type, I know one thing to be true. I’m not looking toward any type of change to be able cope, rather because I need to shift and move in a different direction.

Now, don’t for a minute imagine that I’m stupid enough to think that a few highlights in my hair are going to somehow verbalize that a new Sheriff's landed in town and things are gonna change... Rather, I guess I’m hoping this small tweak might give me a wee bit more confidence, to start saying DON'T when I need to.

My rant complete, my biggest regret is that I need to make up for missing an amazing show Friday night with another road trip. So, as I listen to Chicago II cranked on vinyl, I realize that not only do they ‘Colour My World’, my kick-ass hairdresser does too!

The moral of my story? If it doesn’t make you feel fabulous; don’t do it, don’t buy it, don’t wear it, don’t eat it, don’t keep it.

Much easier said, than done.

...If I do say so myself!

V IS FOR VARIANT

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words & corresponding quotes.
(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.)

P IS FOR PRIVATE

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words & corresponding quotes.
(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.)

N IS FOR NEGATIVITY

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words & corresponding quotes.

(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.)

M IS FOR MARRIAGE

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words & corresponding quotes.

(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.)

E IS FOR EXCELLENCE

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words and corresponding quotes.
(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.) 

C IS FOR CHANCES

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words and corresponding quotes.
(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.) 

RHONDI's RENOVATING!

Growing up, thanks to having a sister and their parents limited mortgage borrowing power, my boys always shared a bedroom. Then, once we all weathered an unforeseen hospice journey in our new home, that extra room was offered to my eldest son; finally granting him a bedroom of his own. He was in his teens.

A creative soul since birth, Jukebox immediately decided he wanted to redecorate, and asked to paint his new space a very vibrant orange. Striving to prove that I wasn't a total control freak, I simply internalized my immediate anxiety attack, then agreed to his unconventional colour choice.

All these years later, though other rooms have received new flooring & updated colours, what's now my home office remains that popular fall colour that rhymes with no other. I suppose it's because I knew once I accepted the 'ultimate orange room renovation challenge', the rest of the house simply HAD to follow. 

You see, though I love the layout of my home, it's been blessed with 'popcorn ceilings'. An interior design (once considered somewhat sexy) plaster application, that was popular when every kid in the neighborhood had to be home before the street lights came on, and your mama wasn't afraid to spank you.

Though the crap in the home has been painted twice since the its purchase, I've known for years the retro look needed to go. So, with the help of YouTube and an ambitious renovation schedule, the now famous orange room officially lost its 1980's 'early heritage status' yesterday!

Wearing my fancy fur-lined CROCS were just one of my many renovation mistakes yesterday!
TAKEN: JANUARY 12th, 2019

After the experience, I would love to share that my plaster removal video training had me feeling the same euphoria that beautiful puppies & very expensive wine offer, yet that would be a bold-faced lie.

Even with my decision to outfit my chair in the ugliest fitted bed sheet destine for landfill, in a room draped in plastic that I swear could have been prepared by Dexter, things did not go as smoothly as planned.

Though I appreciate my YouTube video schooled me to spray water on the plaster before removing it, it did not warn against the true downside of doing so. Therefore, I gave said training video a thumbs down.

Why? The room, my hair, my clothing, my slippers, my skin were all covered in a paste like substance I magically, albeit, unexpectedly created. 

That said, my reason for my negative review was 100x's bigger than anything listed above.

You see, I always sing when I work.

And that stuff, though generally moist & bad in texture...

Tastes absolutely awful!!

THE ELECTRONIC TRUTH

Last week I got into a powerful and somewhat emotional disagreement via text message with a a person I would generally classify as an electronic friend. You know the type, those that claim to be your friend, yet go out of their way to only communicate with you via text message or social media.

It’s been my experience that those specific types of friendships generally evolve with people you once worked with, or acquaintances you met though someone else that somehow want to maintain an unconventional personal connection.

The latter are those that surround the periphery, generally checking in to see how you’re doing, sharing photos and tidbits of mutual interest when they have a minute. Some, not all, can be exhausting and definitely time consuming.

That said, my disagreement was with an electronic peep that was a combination of both. They were an interesting character, and I knew early on that they had a personal agenda toward me within the construction industry. So much so, that they generally only came a texting when in need of something; flaunting their classic M.O., that they 'missed me'.

Because I've always been in tune with the above specifics of said person, over the last several years there have been times with large lapses of any communication, primarily because they'd always end up breaching my trust. With each instance, I withdrew further and further away from them. Yet, for them, once they'd manage to reinstate any contact they felt they were in the position of unconditional access to my network, not to mention my positive albeit sarcastic & somewhat entertaining electronic energy.

Does anyone else reading here have some serious trust issues? Because I for one, most certainly do. As I reflect inward, I’m not sure what they stem from, but I can tell you they truly exist. So when the right circumstances align, I find myself devastated. A while back I remember reading a  text book analogy on the subject, being: “Breaking someone’s trust is like crumpling up a perfect piece of paper. You can smooth it over but it’s never going to be the same again.”

Though it saddens me to admit that after crumpling and trying to smooth over the same piece of paper, the years have taken their toll and I asked them never to contact me again. The reasoning for my request was that they offered me advice on sorting out some of my issues, stating ‘it’s what friends do’. After sleeping on it Friday night, I realized that I only had one issue. Singular. Them. To which I knew would evaporate by ending any future contact.

Look, we all know that good communication is tough enough face to face, rather than relying on your thumbs to bear the burden of any general message. That said, I worry each of my electronic friends will wonder if it’s them that I’m writing about. I can assure it's not. You see, I am confident the one I am writing about will never stop by here again.

Suffice is to say, I consider his aptly labelled ongoing 'issue'... officially resolved!

A perfect image to illustrate that trust is earned.
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2nd, 2014

HAIR TODAY. GONE TOMORROW.

Last Thursday I had a planned lunch date with someone I hadn’t seen face to face since May of 2017. Unfortunately, we discovered the night before there was a calendar conflict,  so the easiest thing to do was reschedule for this coming Friday.

My first world problem was I wanted to surprise him with how I'd grown my curly hair to the middle of my back. Not because he'd give a shit, but because there is always a bit of a tell when you haven’t seen someone for an extended period of time. And for me, I knew the length of my hair would've been a bit of  jaw dropper.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not vanity on my part, more a sense of personal pride.  From the time I was a young girl, my mother kept my hair cut short for the ease of getting me to school in the morning. Then, as I entered my teen years, I didn’t have the knowledge nor understanding on how to manage naturally curly hair, so as it grew out, the frizz always outweighed the future fashion potential of it all. That, combined with a barely there A cup, I ended high school looking like a boy that was trying too hard.

Well, thanks to the internet and a kick-ass hairstylist, I figured it out. It was expensive in the beginning but I justified the expense by telling myself I was worth it. As I aged and truly understood how one treats grey hair, I took the matters of the management of it into my own hands and the very large bills disappeared.

Hair's looking great. Shame about the face!
TAKEN: August 2nd & 7th, 2018

So here you have it. A picture of the longest my hair had been in I don’t know how many years, and me headed to work yesterday shortly after 7am, with uber curly hair!

The dead nuts honest truth is the 99.9% of the time I'm away from work or alone, my hair is either up and off my face, in need of some root touch up, or simply a dogs' freakin’ breakfast. So much so that when I landed for my cut Friday lunch I was wearing a Taylor Made ball cap & looked like a super serious paper bag hag.

Glass half full? She made me look and feel beautiful for my trek into Toronto, and I have told her that I will always pay her serious money to never allow anyone to see what I look like when I land at her shop.

How serious am I? When my buddy Barbie spied me up in Instagram at the concert she asked, ‘when are you gonna start aging like the rest of us?”

My response... “Hopefully, never!”

Which is partially thanks to the hush money I will always pay my hairdresser!

O IS FOR OUTSTANDING

Let’s just get the white elephant out of the room on this one. I have writer's block.

I wanted to choose orgasm, yet I didn’t. Opinionated was a close second, you all know I am so why bother. Orillia Lake is something I've already beaten to death: next? 

Outgoing, I am. Obese, I am not. Offensive, I try. Considered, once; “once was lost, now I'm found” ...Pffft, I’m blocked.

I tend to be overwhelmed at work but who gives a crap? I don’t eat organic so that's not an option.

Oh Henry? Oh My God? How about obedient? Don't answer that. BLOCKED!

The object of my affection? The occasional off-colour joke? Well, it's never occasional, which leads me to obnoxious.

One-horse, one-sided, old, only, onward? Nope!

Zero. Zip. Nada. Nothing. Zilch.

Officially blocked, I am optimistic one word will come to me by the end of the day. Who says, "more isn't necessarily better... sometimes it's just more?" 

Oops. Obviously? That would be me!

Because I’m OUTSTANDING!

ZIP-A-DEE-POOOO-DAH

I am excited to share my good news,  which is that I truly had an amazing week away in Mexico. Part in parcel because I went so far out of my comfort zone that I thought I was on a 430 mile Mayan trading exposition to Guatemala; something rarely experienced in my somewhat conservative yet celebrated years to date.

The other side of my spit polished good news coin isn't so great. Unexpectedly, my cell phone went on a kick ass Xel-Ha lazy river ride at the adventure park in Tulum. Bad news is I neglected to provide 'er with a personal flotation device and she drown. (I managed to get her back to Canada. Visitation has been held continually ever since. Funeral service is being held tomorrow morning.)

Would my Blackberry have survived?
TAKEN: DECEMBER 10th, 2017

Ah, those amazing life moments when you believe you might escape a seismic ass kicking, then as the play by play occurs you instinctively know you're absolutely fubar'd.

This instance was one of those after the fact light bulb moments when I felt inclined to ask for a do-over. A simple request to just turn the hands of the clock back a mere 30 minutes. As expected, not an option.

Belly-aching in this particular scenario aside, though I have referenced the term here before, there are very few things in my life I ever wish I could do over. I've accepted my lot, warts and farts, and grown as a person for every single one of them.

I don't know about you but I'm the first one to raise my hand to hold myself accountable and this instance is no different. I had a plan, it failed. My glass half full relates that is was at the expense of a used cell phone I purchased this time last year to help wean me away from the clicking keys of my Blackberry. In the end, I'd pumped far too much cash into repairing it and as a result I never truly bonded with it.

Laugh if you must, but those that truly know me, know that I graduated to a Samsung platform kicking and screaming. Though people would laugh at me for my very serious love affair with my Blackberry, I allowed the android hype to curb my enthusiasm into thinking it was time to rehabilitate my thumbs of the comfort of buttons and go to touch screen technology.

Compromise comes in all shapes and sizes. For years I salivated about jet-set travelling and bought a camping trailer instead. Proving most importantly, that I very rarely overindulge. I bought the phone used to try and understand the technology, and in its final hours I ended up drowning the poor shit. Resigned to the fact that I would just reactivate my old Blackberry Classic, on a whim I made a call to a competitive mobility service provider.

Turns out they gave me a $200 credit towards a new phone and a $300 credit for porting my phone to them from a competitor. So a 2 year contract for the phone I chose was $509. I was in shock. A whooping 9 bucks for a top of the line phone? I made them send me the offer in writing.

So, as I say goodbye to my Samsung 6 Edge tomorrow with an early morning service, I expect my brand spanking new Samsung 8+ to arrive via Purolator mid afternoon. As you can imagine, it will definitely be a day filled with emotion.

As an aside, I'm not sure how I feel about the extra nine bucks it cost me. If I had to pick one word it would have to be 'torn'. Torn because I could have went to a Blackberry PRIV for far less and didn't. Torn because it truly personifies the end of an amazing Blackberry era for me.

Once again reinforcing my mantra... that you can't stop change, only manage it.