I.hate.Swedish.TV.Companies

My blood is boiling and this is why:

1. Hi, we're moving and I need to transfer our Internet/TV to a new address please.
2. Sorry, we don't deliver our service in your new area so we can't. Oh and you still have to pay for 3 months.
3. Hi new company, I need Internet/TV.
4. We can give you Internet but we have to a test to see if we can deliver TV. It will take 5 days.
5. Five days later, "yes, you can have TV too."
6. Yes, we said you could have TV but unfortunately you can't have TV now for 3 more months because we're changing our service.
7. Hello 3rd company, can you give me TV? Oh and I also need to make sure the TV you give me includes Stanley Cup play-off games.
8. Well that will mean you have to purchase our sports package (almost as much as our regular package a month) but you can cancel it after 1 month with no penalty.
9. I calll back to order the channels.
10. Sorry, I realize some lady told you could do that but we don't have that package. You have to call another company for that.
11. Oh and Please don't forget to pay the annual $100 to the government for the privilege of having a TV set in your house.

When two worlds smash together: The Aftermath

Sometimes I make some pretty darn good decisions, if I do say so myself. I took a chance, I threw my "image" to the wind and in case you haven't been following, here is what happened. I did it. I sent it to her and here is her response (buried at the bottom of the original post's comment section and given its own special post because, well, after all THAT, she deserves it). I think you'll all agree, she's a hoot in any language. Introducing the neighbour friend (gasp!) in the virtual flesh:

The neighbour friend said...
Hello stalker & friends of Jen!

This is Ms. Uppsala, the "tiny little ball of blonde fun" writing...!

First of all - Jen, you're great! It struck me that I haven't seen you since our last "suicidewalk" and now I know why... You've been avoiding me!!! You can now stop the praying - I'm staying!

I'm not running away screeming... The only one who is going to run around screeming in the nearest future is you Jen! I believe (after reading your blog) that the best way of punishing you (for even thinking that I would think less of you or that I would be upset) is to take the suicidewalks to a HIGHER level - starting tonight =)Bahahaha!

I love having you next door! When you get to know me even better you will learn that it takes more than a blog to scare me away...

After sending me the adress and the readinginstructions I was expecting the worse... I started to read and then I started to laugh, and laugh, and laugh! You're a great writer and I'm taking it as I compliment that you (sooooooooooo badly) want to be my friend!

If it had been the other way around, if I would have moved in next to you in Canada, I know that you would have given me the same chance...

So, keep on bringing your smiling face, your crazy talk and more cakes over to my place!

Love
"The peppy Swedish blonde"
PS. Bikini body, beach 2010 - we'll get there DS

Weigh-in Thursday: Week 10 of 10

So sorry fellow weigh-in Wednesdayers. I got so caught up with my crisis yesterday, not to mention some other criseses (made that word up), that I completely forgot!

Ok, so, 73.5...wooopeee! Nowhere near the beautiful 69 but down to pre-Christmas weight so yay for me! Walking or newly termed, Suicide Walking, has been intense but sporadic. This is ONLY due to the crap weather. Yup, snowing today. Cold, windy and (insert swear word) SNOWING. My walking buddy said the Weather Gods were telling us to take it easy tonight and I agreed. Truth be told, don't think my butt will ever UNspasm from the death march of two nights ago.

But still committed and I only ate like half of the fries in the little guy's Happy Meal at McD's tonight. Normally, that would have been IT. I woulda come home and raided the cupboards on a Carb Crusade. Not tonight though. Tonight, I drank like 3 cups of coffee and polished off a Granny Smith. "Nothing tastes as good as healthy feels", right Hyacynth?

Ok, off to bed, it's late here in Sverige. Nighty night! Ps. Remember we ARE starting all over again next week, 5 intense weeks to reach whatever our goals may be. Mine is bikini body.

A cry for help: When two worlds smash together

The word is "collide" but that word sooooo ain't strong enough for this cataclysmic event. Kinda like, I would like to use the F-word right now to really cement the severity of this situation but instead, I'll just say: I'm screwed.

F-WORD!!!!!

So remember my new neighbour friend? The one I blogged about? The peppy Swedish blonde that I was dying to snag as a friend? I think I might have used the word "prey". Oh God...

Well we're on one of our, as hubby terms them, "Suicide Walks", the other night and as usual, I'm clearly showing signs of distress and as usual she looks over with concern, "Are you ok Jenn?" And my usual response, "I'll live." She's a killer. Meaning she will either a) Kill me or b) Beat me into shape. Anyway, I'm reminiscing in my mind and idiotly (new word, you're welcome) blurt out: "Yeah, I've been writing about these torture session On. My. Blog." And the instant it came out I wanted to trap those flying words and stuff them back into my pie hole.

F-Word.

"Oh, you'll have to send it to me!"
"Uh...yeah."
"What do you write about?"
(I wrote a post about you, actually a few of them. Though they clearly don't paint you in an embarassing light, they'll make me look just a tad desperate, needy and maybe stalkery? >>new word alert) "You know, about Sweden and urhmmmm...stuff."
"Oh I should check to see if you wrote about me." She jokes.
But it's not funny. "Uhhh...yeah..(insert stilted laughter)."

Meh...I didn't take it seriously. She's probably just being her sweet self. She won't remember. Worst case scenario, I can hold her off. I'll think of something.

And then last night.
Suicide walk. Chatting.
"Hey, you didn't send me your blog yet!"
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!This.is.so.not.happening.right.now." Quick, think fast Jenn:
"No, I didn't..." I said this matter-of-factly and let the last word trail. C'mon Jenn! You could've done better than that. Nope, I let it fall flat.

Now I've really gone and done it. Now she thinks I don't want to send her my blog and now she's probably wondering why and probably, definitely thinking I wrote something nasty about her.

F-Word.

Here are my options, as I see them:
a) Send her the link and pray she doesn't scroll down to read THAT POST or THIS ONE!
b) Send her THAT POST with a funny little note, "Ok, you can read my blog but better read this first". Full disclosure right? Show her my warts and hope she doesn't lock her front door and pull her blinds when she sees me walking towards her house. Will she get my humour? Remember, there is a cultural barrier here, though not that high cuz she's worked with us Americanites.
c) Delete THAT POST and THIS POST and send her the link.
d) Keep ignoring her.
e)"Damn that blogspot. Can you believe they lost my blog? I'm suing!"

Let's put this collision course into perspective. It's like having an STD right? No, I DO NOT have an STD. But say you did. You've found your soulmate. It's love at first sight. But you just KNOW you have to tell her the ugly truth about what's going on "down there". Ok, bad parallel. But maybe not.

Ok, so here's the thing. You guys know me! We have our own little private club, you guys and me. I can tell you stuff. You can tell me stuff. But it's like the sign on the clubhouse, only instead of it reading, "No Boys Allowed" it says, "No Real People Allowed", or "No People I Write About Without Them Knowing About It Allowed"

F-Word.

And now there's a girl at the door and she wants in. And this is the kind of girl all the boys would want to let in (and girls too!) but she could discover the porn collection hidden under the old filthy mattress.

I am soooo screwed. Help me (uttered in the same voice I utter "I'll live." in, which I won't).

Sorry, but you are a Big Boy

I am currently listening to a whiny soundtrack spiraling its way down the stairs, "But I'm NOT a Big Boy!" It's on repeat as I sit at my dining room table/office typing away.

The little man doesn't seem to want to accept my reasoning as to why I won't sleep with him. See, I made a "mistake" a couple of weeks ago. The little man was so sick and stuffy and I, not feeling much better, decided to cuddle with him until he fell asleep. At the time, it wasn't a mistake. In fact, it was just what the dr. and the patient had ordered. Little man has been great at putting himself to sleep for at least a year now. And no, there were never any "let him cry himself to sleep" methods used. Nightly prayers, a kiss, a hug and a Goodnight. But these recent bedtime cuddles soon turned into habit and someone isn't so willing to give up Mommy Blankie because, he's a big boy now. So his solution, "But I'm NOT a Big Boy!" Ah, if only that were true...

I have evidence. Forget the expanding vocabulary, height and waistline for a moment. Let's take you back to this time last week when Daddy wasn't home for your ritual nightly bathtime together. In you went alone. It certainly wasn't a first as Daddy travels frequently. The next night as I signalled it was time for you to haul all 46 of your dinosaurs into the bathtub and splash puddles all over my bathroom floor, you kept repeating, "But I want to play by myself."

"No, playtime is over. It's time for a bath."
More forcefully now, "But I want to play by MYSELF."
Huh?
(She tries it in Swedish)
Still the same thing.
In comes Daddy while simultaneously pulling off his socks.
"But I want to play IN THE BATH by myself."

Oh?
"You don't want Daddy to go in the bathtub with you?" Asks my hurt husband.
"No, I want to play BY MYSELF."

And there you have it. You are growing up. An almost nightly tradition since early 2007 has vanished. Just like that. Suddenly hubby's moans about getting soapy for the second time the same day cease and are replaced with a few sighs, and I swear, a bit of a quivering voice.

You can't fool me kiddo. You ARE a big boy and there's nothing daddy or I can do about it.

Cue Boys 2 Men song: "It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterdayyyy...yeeee."