Monthly Archives: June 2010

The wind beneath my skirt

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I received a letter from the Regie Du Logement today telling me that I am obligated to appear before a judge
to argue my case against the landlords. The court date is the same day I am scheduled to sing in at a festival in Toronto.

I called the landlord to clarify whether or not I actually had to appear or if this was over the money that I no longer owed him and he launched into some good old fashioned, high volume blame and mud slinging.
When he was done I asked simply,

“Is this about the money or or you trying to evict me?”

He hollered some more and told me that he warned me he would do this if I didn’t pay and then eventually confirmed that yes, he and his wife are taking me to court to have me evicted on account of late rent payments.

The thing is, I was at a bit of a loss as to why he was screaming at me. *I paid my debt to him in full, he has had the rent for July in hands since June 27th.

I might add, he was as pleased as a pig in mud when I handed him the money, all full of smiles of sweetness.
He was also with a contractor who was measuring the front balcony.

“We’re building a new one!” he boasted proudly.

Interesting, considering he and his wife are justifying having me kicked out, on the grounds that I have caused them financial ruin by being weeks behind in the rent.

Maybe they found one of those free contractors that just goes around donating time, energy and lumber to random homeowners who desperately need bigger balconies on their rentals.

At any rate, looks like we’re headed to continue this party in front of a judge on July 22nd.

In the meantime I guess I should get to work organizing my house, purging and what-have-you. Might as well get the place in an easy-to-pack-in-the-event-of-a-midnight-move state.

If the judge rules in favour of the landlords I’m going to have a much easier packing job.

If he rules in mine, I might actually be able to walk from one end of the house to other without tripping through the river of useless crap that seems to flow so freely throughout the house.

Am I really going to buy another VCR to play these hundreds of tapes on?

“Oh god! I couldn’t sleep all night, I just kept tossing and turning and writhing in grief, I’ve just GOT to get that copy of Back To The Future on VHS back!”

I can’t even remember what’s in some of these boxes. I’m pretty sure that the chances of me missing any of it are pretty slim.
In fact I have owned things for years, that I still don’t know what they are.

Examples:

We have these tiny springs on stands that I am assuming are egg cups, but only because there are six of them.

Reasons to let them go:

1) I’m not sure if that’s really what they are.
2) Even if they are egg cups, I don’t eat eggs.

Ok… that was easy. Let’s do another one.

I own a ceramic square with 20 ceramic fingers sticking out of it. It might be a ring holder except that the fingers
are so fat that no rings fit on them.

Reasons to throw it out

1) I’m not sure what to do with it

Reasons to keep it:

1) My dad gave it to me for Christmas
2) It looks cool
3) It’s an excellent conversation piece

I own an aluminum thing that looks like a cake pan but is too fragile to cook in. This leads me to believe it is a jello
mold. However! It is shaped like a fish. Who makes fish flavoured jello?

Reasons to throw it out:

1) None

Reasons to keep it.

1) It’s vintage

2) It’s shiny

3) It’s amazing and full of of all kinds of awesome.

We have a set of these tiny battery operated machines that look like fans on plastic clothes pegs but aren’t actually big enough to create
any kind of ventilation. I thought they might be lint removers but the minute you press them against your sweater,
they stop working.

Reasons to throw them out:

1) They’re stupid and possibly useless.

Reasons to keep them:

1) What if we have hamsters one day and there’s a heat wave?
2) I could clip them all along the hem of a skirt and just stand around all Marilyn Monroe style, but without the stench of sewer wafting up from the sidewalk grate.

OK, so the VHS tapes are evicted, as are the egg springs. The ceramafingers can stay, at least long enough to prove their worthiness.
The Fish Jello Mold can stay but it goes up on the wall and the mini fan skirt is what I am planning to wear to court on the 22nd.

They can evict me if they want to but I’m not leaving without fucking with their heads first.

* I have some of the most amazing, generous, caring, helpful, superhero friends and family members in the whole and entire world. I am so absolutely overwhelmed by their support. Some sent money, some job listings, chants, prayers, strength, validation and words of encouragement.
I can’t wait to be feeling better and back to myself so I can show you all the appreciation you deserve.

Jennifer June

Matthew McConaughey can suck it.

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So I accidentally stumbled upon an article the other day about the top however-many ways to look incredibly sexy for your spouse.

I figured it would be about as intelligent as those articles in Cosmo that tell you that in order to spice up your sex life you need to
turn off the Television during love making or *yawn* prepare a candle lit meal for your mate.

I still always read them, just in case somebody actually has a creative idea one day.

The author of the article starts by pointing out that we don’t actually need to get airbrushed,chopped up, reduced or implanted to attract a mate.
Cool… so, getting morphed into a woman that looks like a man who wants to look like a tiger is not obligatory. Excellent.


She reminds us that To look good you have to feel good.


Right. Good start.


She says we must Eat all natural foods because if it’s wrapped, bagged, canned, etc… then it contains nasty preservatives.


I concur


She insists we stop drinking soda.


I am on board. I hate the stuff. Never drink it.


Workout everyday!


Wooaaah. Every day? I’m not feelin’ it anymore. Sorry, I don’t think we’re going to get along after all.


She goes on, Maintain your body everyday. Brush your teeth, shower daily, remove excess body hair, etc…

Um… lady? Please. I’m pretty sure that, unless your target audience falls between the age of 5-9 years old, if they need to be told to bathe and brush their teeth, there’s no helping them.

She notes specifically for the women that Being married does not give you an excuse to stop trying to look good.
And then so helpfully adds: “Wear heels. They elongate your legs and make them look even better.”


BING! (sound of me pulling the chord on the bus because I want to get off NOW!)


Wear your husbands (not yours) favorite perfume, hairstyles and clothes.


SHUT THE HELL UP LADY, I’M SERIOUS NOW.


She moves on to the men


“Take up bodybuilding”


HA HA HA!!!! As if.


Wear your wife’s (not yours) favorite cologne, hairstyles and clothes on you.


Um.. first of all, this is assuming he has hair.

second of all, please. I’m not a control freak and my love is unconditional.

My boyfriend can wear whatever he wants to wear…
as long as I bought it for him.

Pursue your interests. Invite your wife to join in!


Please don’t. I mean persue, persue away, but don’t ask me to disassemble your hard drive with you please.

I’m good for
watching 600 youtube videos in a row, you go ahead without me. Tell me about them later if you like.

And no, totally not necessary for you to include me in your D&D marathon. I’m all set with a few
human friends and a gin martini but thanks for thinking of me dungeon master, really.


Watch romances and chick flicks. All of the men in those movies are the same in attitude. It’s extremely difficult for a woman to resist when a man romances her. Follow those men and do what they do. Trust me, it’s cheesy but works.

Lady seriously? First, I can resist Matthew McConaughey just fine. In fact he repulses me.
Second, I find my man’s affinity with Sex and the City disturbing enough. Back the hell off.

Uniforms, uniforms, uniforms…

PAAHAAA!!! OH MY GOD! Baby, remember when you were in boy scouts? Please!! Do it! I dare you. You are SO getting laid if you do.

Apparently the author of this article is the self proclaimed Relationship Expert Mastermind who also brings us treats such as:
How to Get Your Dream Man to Love You, The Top 4 Ways to Affair Proof Your Marriage
And my personal favorite, Why You Should Wait to Have Sex.

Really? So the TOP ways to look INCREDIBLY sexy for your spouse are to brush your teeth and bathe more often and pretend you’re somebody that you’re not?

I don’t know about anybody else, but I can definitely think of a few reasons why this author should probably wait to have sex.

Jennifer June

The mouths (pencil crayons?) of babes…

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Life is sucking rather hard this week and I don’t feel like writing about it today so I will share with you a small moment of the beauty of what motherhood means to me.

Without questioning me, please allow me to first point out that bice is actually spelled bajs and it means (literally) shit (the noun) in Swedish.
Enjoy.

There are these days, as a parent, after a long and stressful day, that you come home to your loving children to have your heart warmed and your face caressed by a smile. Perhaps they have picked you flowers and written a poem about how much you mean to them.

Perhaps they have prepared supper so as to give you a chance to rest your weary body for a moment and allow somebody else to take care of you for a change.

Perhaps they have all gone out for the afternoon and you come home to a calm and peaceful oasis, so quiet that the only evidence of children, in the house, is laying on the dining room table and looks a bit like this:



or this…

Jennifer June

Give me a break!!!!! (please)

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So this is fun…

As many of you know,
I almost died this January when my body revolted against me and decided to mistake my red blood cells for intruders and proceeded to kill most of them off. I spent weeks in the hospital and received 12 blood transfusions, immune globulin and a boat load of steroids.
I was back at the hospital for weekly blood tests and after a crop of new symptoms, sent to a Rheumatologist who tested me for Lupus.
One of my tests came back positive.

How’s that for an intro to a post?

Less than 2 months after returning home, despite not being fully recovered and being plagued by a barrage of new symptoms, I started my job search, as it was clear that I wasn’t in any shape to go back to work on-call, night shifts, as an intervention counselor at the women’s shelter. As rewarding a job as it is, being awake all night, working with mentally unstable, syringe wielding and often aggressive and violent drug addicts is just not an option for me anymore.

I’ve sent out a slew of CVs, made phone calls, posted my profile on employment sights, begged everyone I know to spread the word etc… And I still haven’t found work. I’ve even applied at F#$@ing Starbucks. I feel like a living breathing, low budget, Canadian, made for T.V. after school special.

You know, the one about the single mom who is almost 40 and is applying for jobs that only teenagers will do and nobody will hire her but eventually she gets a job a McDonalds, even though she is a vegetarian.

She hates her boss because he is a misogynist creep who makes her wash the floors and leers at her while making snide comments about her age or single moms or something.

Of course, on the show, a handsome customer comes in and orders a McSalad and they fall in love. He gets on great with the kids and he just loves dogs. He magically gets her a job writing for the New Yorker and her article about McDonalds gets the whole chain closed down forever and she gets a brass awesomest-person-in-the-world plaque with her name on it and they live happily ever after in his penthouse suite, overlooking Central Park.

Where was I?

Anyway…

With no employment in sight and not even an interview in my foreseeable future, I took a week off momming and job-hunting because my boyfriend had (months ago) bought me a “HURRAY! YOU LIVED!” gift of a plane ticket to meet him in Barcelona during his European tour.

It’s the first time in my 30 something, almost 40 years of life that I have ever been outside of North America, ever.

Despite missing my kids desperately, worrying incessantly about whether or not I would have a “flare-up” while I was there, being entirely financially dependent on my boyfriend’s limited funds and most of all stressing terribly about what I was coming home to (i.e. hateful answering machine messages and/or eviction notices) I actually managed to enjoy parts of the trip.

“This is a once in a life time Jen, be mindful, take it in” This was my mantra when my mind tried wandering to the dark side.

It’s been a week since I arrived home. I have yet to find work and I am late on the rent again, as I have been a few times since being hospitalized.

My landlords (understandably) hate me for this and are hellbent on evicting me, which is great fun. They’ve given me 2 days to pay the rent “or else”
and also, just to add a little flavour to the pot, they’ve also now sent me a completely unprovoked registered letter stating that I am not complying with my lease and must get rid of our family dog within 10 days “or else”.

Now, we had the dog long before these landlords bought the building from my previous landlord who, despite neglecting to include this information on the Lease itself, gave me permission to bring my dog when we moved in here. I can probably fight them on the whole dog thing because it’s clearly just a plot to get me out of here faster but I can’t magically come up with this month’s rent or next month’s which is due in a few short days.

So here I am, Wednesday June 23rd 2010 feeling like a trapped animal, chasing my own tail again, wondering if this is ever going to stop. Wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do with 3 kids a dog and an eviction notice. Wondering if the world is ever going to cut me some slack, wondering if I’m a spoiled brat for expecting that I might deserve some.

Wondering if I should have stayed in Barcelona and sent for the kids… and the dog.

Jennifer June

About yesterday…

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I’m going to personally customize the legal definition of the term Deadbeat Dad and extend it from:

A father who ignores a Court order to pay child support
to
A father who willfully defaults on his obligation to father his children.

You’re welcome.

I looked up Livebeat dad before naming my post. I was expecting to find sites by super awesome involved dads blogging about how super awesome it is to be a super awesome involved dad but was put off immediately by a barrage of phrases like Child Abduction is Child Abuse, Visitation delayed is visitation denied, MY EX IS REALLY ANGRY, Visitation denied is a childhood lost etc…

I felt a bit sick to my stomach and opted for a new title.

So here’s the thing…

Yesterday was Father’s Day.

There is no Father at our house and many other houses full of kids.

There are, however, Fatherless houses that have super awesome men living in them, providing support to
super awesome moms and a male role model for their more than deserving children.

While I think that any man should feel privileged to be included and welcomed into any woman’s family, and they
should feel lucky and overwhelmed with gratitude for having the opportunity to share in the wonders of parenthood, the trials
and tribulations of child rearing, the immanent joy of baby barf, diaper changing, 4 hour piano recitals and showers of adolescent attitude, I commend you.

Some of you are welcomed with open arms and others perhaps by a wall of resentment, the glaring of beady little eyes and fists slapping against the palms of menacing children.

“you’re not my dad” you might hear,
“You’re not the boss of me”.

I once dated this really tough guy with tattoos and a muscle car who was scared away by my 5 year old daughter within 2 seconds of meeting her.

“GET OUT!” she shouted.

and he did.

I just want to say though, that once you get over that and on to being one of the people those same little kids are searching for from the stage of their grade 2 winter concert, receiving your first three pound I ❤ You clay medallion, dangling from a shoe lace, painted pink with sparkles, or being asked advice from a wide eyed teenager who honestly believes that you know what you’re talking about; you can pretty much consider yourself one of the luckiest guys on earth.

Still, it must be pretty intimidating to walk into somebody else’s world, find your place in it and make yourself at home.

So to all of you who have…

I should have said it yesterday, Happy Father’s Day.
xx

Jennifer June