tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13165164783280148122011-11-11T05:51:32.340-05:00The Other Side of Normal - Rants, Raves and Ramblesmischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.comBlogger231100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-63847430234782868652011-02-08T14:43:00.000-05:002011-02-08T14:43:09.134-05:00

This is what I don't understand.  Why do people tell you to have a good life after being exceedingly rude, when it's obvious that they mean the opposite?  If they've had no issue with saying such horrible things to you, why the pretense at being nice?  Or is it supposed to be ironic?  Huh.  If they're trying to be witty or something, surely they should have tried that route before they said all

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-78329075719322440672011-02-08T12:09:00.000-05:002011-02-08T12:09:38.559-05:00

This morning as I was scrolling through my Facebook home page (lookin' at what people I don't have contact with beyond FB were up to and checkin' out my birfday wishes) I was struck by a post from one of the girls I went to university with (the first time around.) She posted this: Jean Kilbourne's lecture on women in advertising.  And not women who write copy, but how women are portrayed.  And

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-79114560041598674492011-01-28T17:51:00.003-05:002011-01-28T17:53:05.013-05:00

This isn't really a post at all... It's more like a "YAY" moment with a little happy dance thrown in.  As you know, I lost my school contract when all the crazy was happening back in November.  I made the decision to not continue with the agency that I was working with, less because they gave my contract to someone else (I totally get it, but I'm still a little pissed) but because I just don't

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-1360478448727750382011-01-25T16:48:00.000-05:002011-01-25T16:48:25.755-05:00

Yesterday afternoon was hard. There were tears.  And feelings of loss.  I've been doing so well recently, and a kind word from a woman I've never met, but have communicated with for four years, sent me over the edge. (Betty is the administrator for the agency that I'm on the Board of Directors for, and she's lovely.)  Betty had called to let me know that the Executive Director insisted that I go

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-41296526172475124112011-01-24T15:46:00.001-05:002011-01-24T15:47:38.616-05:00

I'm going to preface this post by saying that if you have difficulty reading sugary posts without vomiting, then it's best that you skip this one and wait until I find my next inspiration. Stu and I like to leave each other notes.  When he was working overtime and I barely saw him for a couple of weeks, I used to hide notes in his lunch or the pocket of his jacket.  Just a few words to tell him

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-58697631654666266872011-01-22T23:53:00.001-05:002011-01-22T23:59:15.889-05:00

For those of you that don't know much about me, I live in a triplex in the basement apartment.  Stu and I moved in here two years ago after my mother-in-law's cancer diagnosis.  She owns the building and lives in the second floor apartment with my sister-in-law.  The main floor apartment has housed some of the "special" people in the world, including a fraudster, an inconsiderate couple and their

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-15414523862367252882011-01-01T03:17:00.000-05:002011-01-01T03:17:57.892-05:00

2011 Wow.  2011.  I can't believe it's January 1st already.  So many things have happened in 2010... school contracts, five years with my soulmate, 1st wedding anniversary, being pregnant, and the subsequent loss...life changing, soul giving/losing events... I can't believe that I survived it all.  And there's a part of me that wonders if I have. But I am definitely going to try. I want so

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-58777091388287904302010-12-16T03:02:00.002-05:002010-12-16T03:05:30.614-05:00

Things have been really tough lately.  And it all started around the time of my last post.  While I was expecting the nausea and vomiting of the cursed morning sickness, I did not expect it to last from the time I woke up until the time I went to sleep.  I wasn't vomiting at first, just felt like I was on the verge of it. ALL.  DAY.  LONG.  I wasn't so excited by it. So, I went to the doctor's

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-36806374716015314342010-10-17T19:16:00.000-04:002010-10-17T19:16:24.939-04:00

You know, I've realized that it might seem that I'm less than enthusiastic about my pregnancy.  And there might be a grain of truth in that.  But, I ask that you not be too judge-y and let me explain. For the last three years my husband and I have not used any form of birth control.  Nothing. Zip. Nada.  And there was no pregnancy.  So I'm sure you'll understand why we thought we couldn't have

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-26664827703109953932010-10-12T16:08:00.000-04:002010-10-12T16:08:45.663-04:00

So... I've been quite tired lately.  Like really tired.  I thought maybe my B12 was low, so I took loads of it.  Didn't help.  I went to be a little earlier every night.  Didn't help.  Thought that my student was just so emotionally exhausting that I couldn't do much else.  No cure for that, unfortunately. Then I remembered that it was weird that I hadn't gotten my period yet.  It isn't unusual

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-68147542751089531972010-09-17T17:23:00.000-04:002010-09-17T17:23:52.000-04:00

Sometimes when I think no one is looking, I slowly move my paw down my belly and.... well, you know, touch myself. So, I figured since I showed off Pedro's moobs, I should share my other cat's dirty little secret.   This is  the real Maya.  I'll let you in on a secret though, if I was caught touching myself, I wouldn't let myself be photographed.  And then let it be posted.  Maya the Cat is a

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-1242557553224401212010-09-15T17:42:00.000-04:002010-09-15T17:42:01.749-04:00

During my lunchbreak I sent my friend a message asking her if it was wine o'clock, beer o'clock or hard liquor o'clock.  I really wasn't fussy which o'clock it was, I just felt the need for a drink.  We all have those days - where work is kicking our ass, family obligations are overwhelming, or the beastly children that live in the apartment above you haven't stopped screaming for the last two

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-36191716525551984382010-08-26T16:09:00.002-04:002010-08-26T16:16:30.314-04:00

This is a conversation that I had with Shannon (who's responsible for me writing this post) recently... Apparently I need to stay off the cold meds - or stop talking to Shannon.  Probably the cold meds - I ♥ Shannon too much.  As to why I had the cold... well, read this.  It's all Stu's fault by the way.  It always is. S: You're not the spawn of Satan, are you? Me: Not to my knowledge, but my

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-60624905620175962492010-08-26T15:39:00.000-04:002010-08-26T15:39:36.184-04:00

On Saturday Stu and I were supposed to go out with my best friend and her husband - two people that we both love.  Which is unsurprising, because my friends are awesome.  His, however... well, he may like his friends, usually I do not.  Anyway.  That day, Stu woke up and told me that he wasn't feeling well.  I encouraged him to lie down and rest, hoping that he would feel up to going out by the

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-38494788067241896372010-08-25T10:31:00.001-04:002010-08-25T13:19:44.294-04:00

I admit it.  I have a chubby pussy.  I have overfed it, and now it has boobs of its own.  It didn't used to be chubby.  It used to be quite svelte.  But over the last number of years, as the weight has gone on, and the excercise has become a forgotten memory, it has become chubby.  I worry about it.  This is Pedro - and if you look really closely, you can see his moobs. This is Pedro.  And

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-49655005917691389292010-08-24T12:26:00.001-04:002010-08-24T12:28:29.419-04:00

This is not what it looks like... I swear. My husband left this on the stove while he went to get a couple of things.  He had been kind enough  to pick me up a chai latte (which was not very good, and I was totally looking forward to it) when he got a latte for himself and his sister.  I was standing there, looking rather confused, and really, who wouldn't?  I mean there's a white dildo

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-31334554686645443732010-07-28T17:08:00.000-04:002010-07-28T17:08:57.909-04:00

Today my dad (whom I call Papasan - and yes, I realize it's a type of wicker chair like thing you get from Pier 1 - stop judging!) is 72 years old.  I know we're not supposed to have favourites, but he's mine.  My mother and I have always had a rocky relationship, and my father was the calm in the storm.  Not that he was around much when I was growing up - he worked 7 days a week to keep a roof

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-82612511731869447152010-07-28T16:16:00.001-04:002010-07-28T16:44:25.967-04:00

My favourite Texan Sweetpea, Missie, has had a blog make-over - and it's beautiful! Not that her other blog wasn't, but now it's all shiney and new. I find myself over at her blog checking out her book reviews for recs on some great finds. Although, I usually skip the review because I don't want the surprise of the story to be ruined and just check to see her rating. But then I always go back

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-87211867534310564712010-07-20T13:22:00.003-04:002010-07-20T13:27:33.631-04:00

Today I was chatting with the lovely Shannon, whom I absolutely adore, and in the course of a couple of emails I mentioned that I wear bossy boots and as such I sometimes don’t get along with others. This is because I am a take charge kind of girl. I have learned to restrain my bossy side and let others play, but often that side of me comes out, especially when people are being ridiculous and

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-37983978020571174022010-07-20T00:46:00.001-04:002010-07-20T00:50:03.740-04:00

So... it gets hot in Toronto. Hot and really humid. And we don’t have air conditioning, but even if we did, I would put it on as a last resort because we’re not rich, and the provincial gov’t decided it would be cool (get it?) if they hiked up hydro prices during the day - when everyone uses it. I have a whole other rant about that clusterfuck.Anyway. It was hot and it was humid, and I had

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-18432481300627397972010-07-20T00:22:00.002-04:002010-07-20T00:44:17.429-04:00

Now, before you get all crazy and think that I'm being racist because I've just declared that I hate Rogers, I don't mean people named Roger. I mean Rogers Communications. In case you live somewhere that doesn't have Rogers screwing up your life, it's one of the big cable/phone/internet providers in Canada. They own half of our country. Okay, maybe not half. But they own a lot.Now, I have

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-29264981235293227862010-06-30T08:01:00.008-04:002010-07-20T08:42:26.123-04:00

With all of the negative stories that bombard us from all corners of the media - the time spent on telling us what's wrong with the world, it's hard to imagine that there's anything right with the world. It becomes difficult to believe that there is something beside the downfall of humanity lurking around every corner. Too easily, we can become caught up in the murders, the wars, the riots, the

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316516478328014812.post-8060733797855671992010-03-07T14:27:00.003-05:002010-07-20T10:27:00.280-04:00

So, what does one write in their first post? Something witty? Something profound? Just something on the page to say that you've written your first post? How about I just dish out some info.. that seems safe.What's Procrastinator By Design all about? This blog will include random ramblings, book reviews, pimpage for the things I love and anything else I feel like putting in..but mostly random

mischievousmayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14631901269833536947noreply@blogger.com0