April's Real Blog

Friday, August 11, 2006

Mom even punz in her own head, yo!

So. This morning, I was having breakfast w/my cuz Laura. We were having oatmeal with apple sauce and cinnamon, and piping hot cups of coffee. Mmmm, coffee! NEway, Laura was all, "Hey, what R U gonna write abt in yr blog 2day?" And I was like, "MayB sumthing abt the vet clinic or the horses." Laura rolled her eyez an' sed, "Don't do that, that's xxactly what yr creepy brother seemz 2 want. MayB there will B more 2 tell abt yr mother." I started 2 say I didn't have NEthing 2 share abt Mom when, wdn't U know it? The phone rang, and it was Mom! She told me that she was all looking @ herself in the mirror, xxamining her face, an' thinking, "When I was in my 20s and 30s, chasing after children, I often lookd tired, but I adjusted 2 it. When I was in my 40s, lines had formed around my mouth and eyez, but I had a job and teenagerz 2 worry abt, and I adjusted 2 it. Now I'm retired, and have time 2 do what I want 2 do--I C an old person in the mirror...And I'm adjusting 2 it. I'm going thru a new face in life." Groooaaaaannnnn! I sed, "Mom, U actually thought all that, worded in thoze odd, stilted sentences, and ending in a pun?" Mom sed, "Yes, so?" I sed, "Isn't that a bit strange?" She sed, "Not 4 a Patterson or a Richards. Get used 2 it." I was all, "Mm, yeah, if U say so." Then Mom sed, "I think my new face in life wd make a great column 4 Michael! I have 2 call him rite away!" And I was, like, "Yeah, U do that!" And that was that. Mom is weird, yo.

Liz, Becks txt-ed me an' sed, "Liz's luv-life advice was v. v. 'Liz'!" I'm sure U will agree w/her abt that, eh?

13 Comments:

  • At 8:02 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April, if I were your mother, I'd be more concerned about looking like a man, and not just any man, but one specific man, namely--your dad! That's scarier than simple aging!

    Sure, my mother looks a bit manly herself, but at least she doesn't resemble her husband!

    Lawrence

     
  • At 9:53 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Little sis. I must admit I was quite excited to read your Blog this morning to find that you and lovely, luscious…I mean keenly observant cousin Laura were talking about what I would want to see in your Blog. Please let Laura know that since you have been there in Manitoba, little sis, I have been thinking about her quite a bit and the summer I spent there with her.

    I see Lawrence Poirier has chimed in about mom sometimes looking a little like dad. It seems odd to me that he would espouse his very manly mother, Connie, as being better than our mom, because she doesn’t resemble her husband. I expect it is a backlash from all those years when Connie used to bleach Lawrence’s skin so he wouldn’t look like his father. I know it was a shock for me, when Lawrence admitted to me he was gay, after all those years when we were younger, fighting over my lovely Deanna’s affections; but it does not compare to the shock I got when Lawrence told me his father was Brazilian, after some years of telling me that the sudden darkening of his skin when he became a teenager was due to being able to tan very easily. I am sure that no matter what criticisms Lawrence has of mom, he will soon remember that mom and dad invested in his business, Lakeshore Landscaping, and he will make a public reversal.

    Mom did call me about her mirror story, and I said, “It’s strange you should mention it, but I went through a very similar circumstance recently, when I was looking at myself in a mirror. I thought:

    When I was in my 10s, chasing after all my different girlfriends, I often looked tired and frustrated, but I adjusted to it.
    When I was in my 20s, lines had formed around my university kitchen to fill my mouth and eyes with the taste and sight of Mrs. Dingle’s greasy food, but I had a degree to get and Deanna and/or Rhetta Blum to worry about, and I adjusted to it.
    When I was in my 30s, watching my lovely Deanna chase after my children --I see an older, but still pretty sexy guy in the mirror…and I’m adjusting to it.
    I’m going through a handsome face in my life.”

    Mom said, “My pun was better. You should use my story in a column.” I told mom I would, but I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t put mine in too. After all, when mom gives you good material (unlike the vacuuming story she told you yesterday), that someone could clip out of a newspaper and put on their refrigerator, I have no problem with using it, and judging from your Blog entry, you don’t either.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 10:10 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, it’s kinda weird, but i wuz thinkin’ kinda similar thingz az ur mom, wen i looked n the mirror, this morning. i thot:
    wen i wuz n my 10s chasing aftah u on a bicycle, i often looked like i had broken mosta the bonez n my body, but i adjusted to it.
    now i’m 15, & i have a new gf -- ic an old peep n the mirror…& i’ve been adjustin’ 2 it 4 the last year, but i am rilly tired of adjustin’ 2 it.
    i’m going thru a 40-year-old face n my life.

    the othah weird thing that happed 2 me 2day, wuz this mornin’, eva woke me up outa bed & sed, “rise & shine, pardner. the sun’s up & time’s a’ wastin’.” i wuz kinda confuzed cuz i didn’t remembah eva sleepin’ ovah. but my mom wuz there 2 & she sed, “i just luv ur new gf, jeremy. she came ovah & made us brekkie.” i got up & had eva’z brekkie. it wuz pretty good food & i told her so. eva sed, “thanx, cowboy. we hafta getta work aftah ur done eatin’ my grub.” i sed, “we’re not cleanin’ ur mom’z house again r we?” mom sed, “no, ur cleanin’ our house. eva wuz n ur washroom lookin’ @the mirror & sed u needed the help.” mom left 4 work & left the 2 of us cleanin’. i sed 2 eva, “wassup w/the cleanin’? “ eva sed, “ur mom just left us alone n ur house & if she comez home & the house iz all clean, she gonna think thass all we did wuz clean.” i sed, “ur 1 smart cowgirl & i’m 1 lucky cowboy.” eva sed, “i like the way u talk.”

    back 2 “cleaning.”

     
  • At 10:42 AM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    I woke up this morning and I felt like garbage. When I looked in the mirror, this is what I thought:

    When I was in my 10s, chasing after boys, I often looked clownishly effeminate, but I adjusted to it. My parents didn’t like my adjustments (mainly the ones involving women’s clothing) and stuck me in the Milborough Training School for Boys.
    When I was in my 20s, lines had formed around my restaurant for blocks, but I had a job and teenager Becky to worry about, and I adjusted to it.
    Now I’m retired from the food service business, and have time to do what I want to do-I see an old gay, engaged-and-soon-to-be married, former opera singer in the mirror…and I’m adjusting to it.
    I’m going through a non-operatic face in my life.

    So, after that strange mirror episode, I started think it might be time for me to get back into some opera, since I am no longer tied to having to do performances at the now-burned-to-the-ground Valhalla anymore. I miss the income from that place, but it was mostly going to pay off Becky’s bridal price, which Thorvald McGuire waived so long as I remain silent with respect to what I know about the circumstances under which the Valhalla burned. Much to my surprise, even though Becky said that your sister’s love-life advice was very, very “Liz”, oddly enough Becky seems to be following it. Becky said that one of her suitors is responsible for entertaining her in the afternoon and the other is responsible for entertaining her in the evening, and thanks to her pinky-swear with you about not having sex until she is 16, neither was going to hit a home run, but first or second base was a possibility.” I said to Becky, “I can’t believe you are following love advice from Elizabeth Patterson.” Becky said, “Howie, you’re not getting jealous because Liz rejected you last year, are you?” I told Becky the whole idea was ridiculous and then I had to lift some weights before I went to work at Sugar’s Salon.

    Fortunately at Sugar’s Salon, there were some distractions. There was a commotion outside the shop, and we went to go out and see what it was. Someone had backed up a Crevasse station wagon to Lilliput’s and was loading things into it. Moira Kinney was outside the shop looking very nervous and shaky. I said, “What’s going on Moira?” She said, “I just asked her to fill in at the store this week, while Bea was on vacation, and then she said, ‘I need some more scrapbooking supplies. I’m using my employee discount.’ I think she is going to clean me out.” And sure enough, there was your mother with a dolly loading up scrapbooking supplies into the Crevasse and checking a list.” I said, “Are you going to use all this stuff, Mrs. P?” She said, “I looked in the mirror and realized I was in a different face of my life. So I need to record the other faces in a scrapbook.” Moira said, “But I needed help in Lilliput’s, not help cleaning out Lilliput’s.” Elly smiled and said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, Moira Kinney. I am not doing anything different from what I did when I used to work here every day.” Moira sighed and said, “That’s right. What was I thinking? I forgot what your work ethic was like. How could I have forgotten that?” Your mom said, “Stop with your forgetting and help me load. I am giving Lilliput’s a huge sale.” Moira signed again and helped your mom load.

    That was the excitement of this morning.
    Howard K.

     
  • At 10:45 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    You may not believe this, but I said the same thing as your mom when I was standing in front of a mirror.

    When I was in my 10s, chasing after other children and realizing I wasn’t fast enough to catch them, I often looked tired, but I never really adjusted to it.
    Now I’m 16 years old, and have time to do work on my Toward Independent Living (TIL) certification, so I can do what I want to do-I see a special needs kid in the mirror…and I’m adjusting to it, but it’s taking a long time.
    I’m going through the same old phase in my life.

    I can’t wait until I get my Toward Independent Living (TIL) certification.

    Love,
    Shannon Lake

     
  • At 11:04 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Boozhoo (Hello).

    I read your writings about your ngashi (mother) looking in a mirror. I think great minds think alike, because I was doing the exact same thing this morning. I looked in my mirror and said:

    When I was in my 10s, chasing after Susan Dokis (whom I call Chipper) on the pow-wow trail, I often looked tired, because Chipper wanted us to stay out all night, but I adjusted to it.
    When I was in my 20s, police lines had formed around my ngashi (mother) and noos (father) at my Ontario Provincial Police graduation, but I had a job in the OPP and my people’s safety to worry about, and I adjusted to it.
    Now I’m planning to move to Toronto to be with my sweet girl, and have time to do what I want to do with her--I see a man who looks like me in the mirror, except he keeps saying, “You’re an idiot, Paul. Wake up and smell the coffeecake”…and I’m adjusting to it.
    I’m going through a new crisis in my life. And not a cry-sis either.

    I read your sister’s love advice to your friend Becky McGuire. A lot of it was confusing to me, particularly the part about proposing marriage. I would have proposed to your sister by now. She told me many times I should not even think about proposing until I live closer to her. I thought when I got to Spruce Narrows and she was in Mtigwaki (Land of Trees), I would propose then. That didn’t happen.

    Now I have to wait until I get to Toronto to propose. I hope by the time I get to Toronto, your sister will be there. She does not have a permanent job yet for September and I am afraid she may get a job some place even further away from me, and I will never live close enough to propose. I need to think about something else.

    My friend Susan Dokis, wants me to drive her to The Grizzly (a bar in Spruce Narrows) tonight after my shift is over. Chipper says she is already getting stress from her new job as the school teacher in Mtigwaki (Land of Trees). Chipper says she wished someone who used to teach the Mtigwaki School before her, had taken a good look in the mirror at themselves, to see how they had the conscience to do what they did. When I told Chipper about my problem with proposing she said, “Suds (her nickname for me), some women are like that and some are not, just like some women are cold-hearted whites and some women are warm and loving Ojibways. I know if you proposed to me, I would accept right now, no matter where you lived.” Chipper always knows the right thing to say to make me feel better. She helped me understand it’s my sweet girl’s little differences from other women, which make her special and worth the wait.

    I hope you are enjoying your time in Manitoba.

    Gi'-ga-wa-ba-min' na-gutch! (See you later!)
    Constable Paul Wright

     
  • At 12:43 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    omg, i m totally going through another face of my life 2.

    when i wuz in the 1st 1/2 of my 0s, i wuz cute an' sweet an' my parents like totally doted on me, they even got tattoos w/ my name, i wuz that cute. that wuz really ez 2 get used 2.

    when i wuz in the 2nd half of my 0s, i wuz still cute as a button but i wuz also starting 2 b rilly pretty an' i learned i could totally use my looks 2 get whatevah i want. i adjusted 2 that rite away, no prob.

    when i wuz in the 1st half of my 10s, i started 2 turn in2 a beautiful woman an' i found out that even tho my parents didn't pay as much attention 2 me nemore, i could still use my looks 2 get what i want frum boyz, an' sumtimez even girls. that wuz so sweet i hardly even noticed adjusting 2 it.

    now i m in the 2nd half of my 10s an' my face is so gorgeous now that i have a pack of men chasing me around, gay, str8, old, young, it duzn't matter, they r all krazee abt me. there r sum boyz who need a little more convincing then others, an' that is tiring, but i still look like a babe, so there is no adjusting needed. i also have a fiance who cleans up after me an' cooks me dinner an' walks my dogs an' is like a bodyguard only better, an' is like my best friend tied w/ my bff apes. w/ all his help i m saved all kinds of energy an' worry so i do not even get dark circles under my eyes. my gorgeousness has helped me get famous.

    this is the best face of my life!!

    i dcided sum of liz's advice is good. it is basically "play hard 2 get by making the men live up 2 ur standards 4 the perfect bf." well that is like no prob. it's also way better not to have a pack of boys around all the time, that gets old.

    becks

     
  • At 1:25 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Paul and Becky,

    I wish I had remembered to tell you that if you loved me you wouldn't read my postings from yesterday but you did, so you are confused, but you shouldn't be. One thing I forgot to say to Becky is you should put the men through a series of tests before you accept a proposal, to make sure they are perfect and will do what you want. Like with Anthony, I put him through a test when I broke up with him, he was supposed to wait for me in case the other boys I wanted to date did not work out, like Eric, he didn't work out, but then when I checked in on Anthony again, he was already engaged to someone else. That was a flunked test, although now he is divorced, he has the chance to retake it by waiting to see what happens with Paul. Paul, your test is to see what you will do about my moving south, whether you will give up your home and transfer to be close to me even though I don't know where I am going to end up yet because I need to be close to my family. If you do this, you will pass the test, there might be more after that, or there might not, I haven't decided yet. If you pass them all, we can probably get married. Becky, it is important to make sure you pick a boy who passes your tests, even if you are a spinster who should really be married by now, it's that important. I am kind of jealous of you because you are 15 and already have a fiance, I wish I had been smart and found the right boy to be engaged to when I was your age.

    You know Mom called to tell me about her face of life thing, and I thought about it and I am going through one also. When I was in my 0s, I was cute with a button nose and two little black dotty eyes and curly blonde hair but I was often tired from chasing the dogs and also Michael, he was always bigger than me with longer legs so he could go faster. Then when I got into my 10s and I lost my cuteness, I had some ugly haircuts and I had glasses, even Farley was cuter than me, but I adjusted, for instance by getting a geeky boyfriend with a bad haircut and glasses who could not do any better. Then I got into my 20s and by then my looks were very changeable, sometimes I could doll up and look like a babe but other times I looked just like mom and other times I had big old bags under my eyes when I had been out drinking and other times I had green fungus on my eyelids when I was sick, and other times I had a huge nose, and other times it was smaller. But I have adjusted to the fact that a Patterson face is very changeable, it always looks different, and lots of times shifts to look just like one of your relatives! Fortunately, Paul and Anthony and my other friends seem to like all my faces of life.

    Liz

     
  • At 6:10 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    hey, every1, i hafta say, i'm kinda glad that no1 here in winnipeg is talking abt what kinda facez they've had @ diff ages and/or making face/phase punz. sumtymez it's really good 2 b away. tho grandpa will did make a comment abt how now that he'z all old an' stuff, his "ferts" r stinkier than ever. i didn't wanna know that.

    apes

     
  • At 7:36 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    So, Winnipeg is not doing the very fashionable face-in-the-mirror examination and your grandpa does comparative smelling of his own gaseous waste material. It sounds like you are having a lovely time.

    Here in Milborough, I seem to have begun the instruction of the young men in Becky's life. Boyfriend #1 was putting suntan lotion on Becky’s back by the pool when I came home from working at Sugar’s Salon. Becky said, “Howie, would you please teach him how to properly apply my suntan lotion? He is not meeting my standards for the perfect boyfriend.” So, I showed him how to use a circular massage motion to get full skin coverage and yet stimulate Becky’s skin at the same time. Becky said, “That’s great, Howie. Now let him try.” So boyfriend #1 started and Becky shrieked, “Not that hard!” I said to the boyfriend #1, “I’ll put the lotion on your back so you get the idea of how much pressure to apply.” So, I am putting suntan lotion on boyfriend #1’s back and he starts moaning about how good it feels. Becky said, “Howie. Please do not seduce my boyfriend. Just show him how to apply suntan lotion.”

    After my demonstration, boyfriend #1 put suntan lotion on Becky and she said, “That’s much better. You’re learning, which is very important.” I went in to start supper and I heard Becky come on over the intercom. She said, “Howie! I need your help out here.” Boyfriend #1 looks very disturbed to see me there. Becky said, “His kisses are too wet and slobbering. Please show him how to keep his saliva under control. The perfect boyfriend must be an excellent kisser.” I gave him instructions on how to control his saliva flow while he was kissing and went back to the kitchen to make sure nothing was burning. I was barely there when Becky was back on over the intercom and said, “Howie. He’s still messing it up.” I came back out to the pool and said, “Watch how I do it.” So, I kissed Becky a few times and boyfriend #1 said, “I can’t really see what’s going on inside your mouth.” I said, “All right. I’ll kiss you and you can feel what I am doing using your tongue.” We started kissing and Becky yelled, “Howie! Howie! That’s enough!” I was a little bit startled by Becky’s reaction until I looked at boyfriend #1 carefully and saw the reason why. I said, “I have a spare swimsuit I think will fit him.” One spare swimsuit later and boyfriend #1 was either performing satisfactorily or Becky was afraid of asking for my help again. I served Becky and boyfriend #1 dinner by the pool, which they seemed to enjoy eating, while they watched me throw steaks to the dogs. With his size, watching Freyfaxi eat 36-oz steaks in a single bite can be quite entertaining.

    Becky is out with boyfriend #2 now, and after she swore he wasn’t going to need instruction like boyfriend #1 did, she just paged me with the message: “Howie. He can’t dance. Come quick.” I’ll write later. First I need to find where I put my ruby red dance shoes.

    Howard K.

     
  • At 8:03 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Elizabeth,

    Kaa-mesnin gwanaaj oshki-ikwe! (I miss you, beautiful one)!

    Just as you told me in our daily phone call, I have read your revised advice on love to Becky McGuire. It said I have to pass the test of transferring to Toronto before I can propose to you. I have submitted the paperwork, but the Ontario Provincial Police can be slow about granting a transfer to a place where many people like to live and work, unlike the transfer I requested to Spruce Narrows. After I get the transfer, I hope it will be the last test and you will not move again before I get there, because I have fallen in love with you and I know we will be happy together. When we talked on the phone, you seemed to be upset when I asked you if you were going to visit your friend Anthony in hospital tonight and if that was the reason you called me before our usual time of 10 pm. I did not want to make you mad. Of course, you are free to decide to visit whomever you want, whenever you want. I love that you are so interested in helping out a sick friend; you would go to visit him. You are a kind and giving woman, and I love that about you. I didn’t realize your friend was so sick, you needed to visit him every single day. Please forgive me, sweet one.

    I am trying to follow your example of helping someone in need. You may remember Susan Dokis. She asked me if I could give her a ride to The Grizzly in Spruce Narrows tonight after my shift is over. I know if you were in Mtigwaki (Land of Trees) and you would want me to give a ride to The Grizzly in Spruce Narrows to someone who needed it. I remember during my visit in Milborough your mother told me how you arranged for her to take many people on trips out of Mtigwaki (Land of Trees), the first time she left after visiting you. You don’t have to worry about Susan drinking and driving or any men taking advantage of her in an inebriated state. I will be there to watch over her, just like I know you would want me to do. My sweet girl, you inspire me. Every time you do something nice for your friend Anthony, I want to do something nice for someone else, like my friend Susan. I can’t wait for you to tell me I passed your test.

    Gawaabmin miinwa (Hope to see you again soon)
    Constable Paul Wright

     
  • At 8:25 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    howard, isn't there sum rule that if my mom does something it can't b considered fashionable? soundz like u an' becks have yr hands full w/her d8ing!

    paul, u sound like a v. good friend 2 have!

    apes

     
  • At 9:48 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Disaster on the dance floor. I managed to help boyfriend #2 be a better dancer, but Becky is a little unhappy with the method I used. When I got to the dance club, Becky informed me that boyfriend #2 had been stepping on her feet over and over again, which did not feel too good in her open-toed sandals. Besides, he is a good-sized hunk of man, and probably outweighs Becky by 80 pounds. I said, “My dance instructor had a sure-fire way of keeping a guy from stomping on your feet. I will dance with boyfriend #2 and instruct him.” The method my dance instructor used to use required skill, speed, and timing on the part of the instructor. Basically, when your dance partner starts to step on your foot, you dodge his foot, and stomp on his. The pain serves as an excellent reminder. I think I could have broken him of his foot-stomping practice, but Becky interrupted me by saying, “Howie. I can’t stand the screaming and neither can anyone else in the club.”

    While boyfriend #2 was resting his sore feet, I tried to think of a less violent way to get the instruction across, but nothing came to me, aside from the human shield method. I said to Becky, “What I could do is to monitor the dancing carefully, and if he gets too close to you, I could use my body as a human shield, so my foot gets stomped instead of yours.” Becky said, “Howie. You can do better than that.” I said, “Well, he could take his shoes off and dance in sock feet. Some people find that very romantic.”

    I think that trick would have worked except, as it turned out, boyfriend #2 has a little foot odor problem. Becky sent me out on a foot deodorant run. I found a few spray bottles of it, but when I came back, Becky and boyfriend #2 were slow dancing and kissing. I said to myself, “I guess I won’t need this foot deodorant after all. Love conquers all, even bad foot odor.”

    But then 2 men approached me from the dance floor and said, “At last you’re here. We can’t take the smell any longer.” They grabbed my foot deodorant bottles, went straight over to boyfriend #2 and poured the contents of both bottles right on his feet. His feet smelled a lot better, but it made the dance floor so slick he fell over and landed right on Becky. Then more people started falling over until the dance floor was filled with the sounds of bodies clunking against the floor and the yells of pain. The dance club bouncers immediately tried to sort things out and they asked the 2 men who had poured deodorant who was the source of the problem and of course, they pointed at me and said, “The man with the clown red hair and the matching dress.”

    Some of the people who had fallen yelled, “Get the clown!” and started chasing after me. I ran to the exit of the dance club and raced to my car before the angry mob of deodorized dancers could get to me. I drove off in the nick of time. I was so angry when I got home. I had broken off the heel on one of my red pumps while I was running. Of course, I had to change clothes to man clothes and my Liza Minelli wig and return to the dance club to pick up Becky and boyfriend #2. But when I got there, everything seemed to have returned to normal, except for a big sign on the front of the club that said, “No Clowns Allowed.”

    Becky and boyfriend #2 were dancing and it looked like they were having a good time. I noticed boyfriend #2 had his shoes back on and the dance floor was no longer wet. I said to Becky, “What happened after I left?” She said, “Howie. That wig is so not a good colour for you. Well, after they didn’t catch you, the crowd stood around and yelled, ‘Kill the Clown’ a few times until they got tired. While they were doing that, the dance club staff mopped up the deodorant off the floor and restarted the music.” I said, “How can you stand to dance with boyfriend #2 while he is wearing shoes?” Becky said, “Simple. If he tries to step on my foot, I move my foot out of the way, and stomp on his. That method works pretty well. I may use it to train boyfriend #2 to do other things. I think he likes it.”

    That was my adventure on the dance floor. Let me see. You asked me if there is some rule that if your mom does something it can't be considered fashionable. I don’t know of any rules about that, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t any. I sincerely hope that no one with any fashion sense is regularly observing your mother for things not to do. But this is Milborough, and anything is possible when it comes to fashion.

    Howard K.

     

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