Sunday, July 28, 2013

A few awkward days at Rona.

Well helllllooo! 

It's sure been awhile, now hasn't it?  
Did you miss me?
You missed me.
(disclaimer: you probably didn't miss me.) 


As most of you know, I've been working at my new job for a few months now. 
I often come home with nothing exciting to talk about. People bought stuff, and I ran it through the cash register. That's basically my whole day. 

But there are times while I'm working that some things happen. Whether hilarious, rage inducing, or embarrassing. (but mostly when I get home I forget about them and then they just stay in the back of my brain)
I'd like to tell you about some of the interesting things while I work. 

Mostly when people come through the doors, John (coworker) will greet them by name.(if he knows them)  But instead of saying a greeting back, people will just say what they're looking for. Just once I'd like it to go like this:

John: "Hello Bob!"
Bob: "Bird feed."
Me: "No, that's John."

There's been a few awkward moments. After I hand someone their receipt, and they're scooting on over to the door I'll say "have a good day" "goodbye" etc. But sometimes my brain (and theirs) are having a particularly bad day.

Me: "Good bye!" 
Them: "No problem you too!"

I'm pretty sure we both want to die at that point.

Or it will be awkward because we'll both say "have a good day" at the same time. Then there's a long silence as they walk away. That's when I wish I could crawl under the counter. 

At times I'll see a certain something about a customer that I like, but I don't really think they'd appreciate me saying "Excuse me, sir, but may I say how much I LOVE your ears? Like, totes adorbes. THEY STICK OUT MAN."
 And then that man never returned to Rona again.  
But really. I mainly keep those things to myself. 

Another awkward thing, some people, you ask for Air Miles and they'll go slack jawed and stare at you with dead eyes. And you're just thinking "It wasn't a trick question. Do.You.Have.Air.Miles?"
A few will come too when their brain realizes what you've asked, and then they'll say "Oh yes!" or "Oh no!" and then you can continue with your life. 

A lot of the time I almost *almost* break peoples' hearts. I'll ask for air miles, they'll say "oh yeah!" and start digging crazily in their wallets, struggling to grasp the tiny blue card. And when they finally manage to get it, and hold it up with a look of triumph, I want to say "Well we don't." and then finish the transaction with a straight face.  

Today something happened, and I felt like a blondie. 

A man came in and said "Do you hav G9 bulbs?"
I, being my tired blondie self, said "oh no we don't have bulbs."
He meant light bulbs. Not the flower. I never wanted to punch myself so hard in the face than at that moment. 

So yeah.

Those are a few things that happen. :} 





Saturday, April 28, 2012

Tiana's Dream Blog.

(There you go, Sarah.)

Okay, so. This blog is going to be about an actual dream I had last night. For those of you who don't know, I have crazy dreams that make no sense.

I also dream in colour. Just had to throw that out there. Aren't I special?

Anywho, so, I will ( once in a while ) tell you a crazy dream I've had. It could be from the night before, or when I was five etc. etc.


So.  It might be a little confusing, because it probably jumps around a lot.



There was a party going on at David and Kate's. (what are the odds of that happening?)

Jarred Swaslkjdfeful was there, apparently we were meeting him or something like that.
I don't remember all who were there, but I do know that Adeena, Heather, Sarah, Linda, Jared, Daniel, Haley, David,Kate, Mom, Jeff (yay Jeff) and possibly other people.

Now, I didn't SEE most of you, but I knew you were there. Because, seriously, if David and Kate throw a party of course you all are gonna be there. Except Rachel, apparently. She wasn't there. Or was she? I don't know. Let's say she was so she doesn't miss out.

Oh, and other people from SoC were there.  It was like a LAN party-thrown-by-David-and-Kate-meet-Jarred-party.


We were getting reading to have a sleepover (I was in a sleeping back and I had a pillow) and I was talking to Jarr-Bear Waffles, because Linda went to get a drink.

I hit Jarred with the pillow, I don't know why, but it was funny at the time. At least he laughed.

Then Jay came in and said it was time to go pressure-washing, and Haley and Elena had to come in the truck with us.

But, Haley, Elena and I were not allowed to go through the front door. We had to go our the doggy-door. Which was tiny.
Jay managed to go through, though.  Go figure.

I didn't want to go through the door first, because I wasn't wearing my proper pants. I was wearing different ones, and I was afraid if I went first the would rip. Going last somehow prevented that.

There was something about water in there, too. I think somethingorother was flooded. But that's not important.

I got outside and began to get in the truck, but realized I'd left Jarred all alone. So we all went back inside. Through the doggy-door. And the floor had gravel on it. Wet gravel. Probably from the flood. I was worried about my pants. My new pants.

I went back inside and got in my sleeping bag. Aaaaaannnndd.


That's all I remember.

Interesting, eh?

This concludes the first ever blog-post of

"Tiana's Dream Blog!!" Da da da da DDDAAA!


Monday, February 27, 2012

Kitchen cleaning

      Sometimes when I'm cleaning the kitchen, my imagination gets the better of me.
I might start dancing as if I won So You Think You Can Dance, or I might pretend I'm on some kind of show where it's my job to clean the kitchen.
But mostly I'll be my Alter-Ego, Herashiana. Herashiana is an alien who is deaf but can hear through the bottoms of her feet. And she can solve crimes.  So when I'm Herashiana, cleaning the kitchen starts out like this:                   


And it slowly escalates. 

                                                    I'm kicking the dirt. GRIM IS A CRIME!

         *insert heroic music here* 

But, sadly, that's not how I actually look while cleaning the kitchen. 

                                                                That's more like it.



Tuesday, February 21, 2012


Weeelll, I changed my blog. Though, if you're so dumb that you didn't notice that you shouldn't be reading my blog anyway. Get out you stupid creepo.

I like the new blog look (even if it is a bit orange), 'cause it's different. Nice and a new colour. And bananas. You can't have a world without bananas. And I don't know what I'm talking about.


Let's move on. 

I enjoyed my other blog look. When I got it I was like


                                    But NOW since my new blog makes me all like

            Elena's hilarious redonkulus photo of her typing on the computer was the spur I needed to stop being such a pictureless blog. So now you get hippiepaintpicturesofmeandpossiblymyfamily pictures! *cheer*
So, now that I've been shown how to put my pictures in the white space that words appear in when I press letters on plastic, you'll see a lot more of my writings. I'm so so so sorry.

Monday, January 16, 2012

I'm not dead!

Okay, so... the above title has nothing to do with anything. I typed in "I" so I could write "I've been tagged!", but that popped up. And so I'm using it. Just ignore it.

So, apparently I've been tagged. Not that I'm upset about it, it actually gets me blogging. So it's awight.

1. Describe yourself in seven words.
Compassionate, funny, imaginative, quirky and three more.
2. What keeps you up at night?
My brain. It doesn't shut up. I think about everything at night. I think about so much I can't even tell you what I think about because I forget. Then I have weird dreams.
3. Whom would you like to be?
Uh, I'm content with being me, thanks..
4. What are you wearing now?
Crocks, pants, a yellow shirt, and a sweater.
5. What scares you?
Spiders for sure. And drowning. And my own mind. And Adeena.
6. What are the best and worst things about blogging?
Best: I get to pour out my thoughts all over the internet. Not that they're always interesting.

Worst: I can't always think of my thoughts.
7. What was the last website you looked at?

Life by the Creek.
8. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I'd be more patient.
9. Slankets – yes or no?
No. I don't think so. I like a small blanket for my feet and a giant pillow or teddy bear.
10. Tell us something about the person who tagged you.
I like her. A lot.
Whom are you going to tag to join the quiz?
Well, since all of my family is ALREADY tagged, I'm left with one person.
Savannah, I tag you. :)

Friday, January 6, 2012



I just hit post blog before I wrote anything. All I had was "So". Hum. I'm stupid.

Oooookay! So!

I'm gonna tell you the full and complete story of the dislocating of my shoulder! *sarcastic cheer*

Elena and I were at our friends' house, having a sleepover. Now, for those of you who don't know this , Jessica and Joy (the friends mentioned) do daycare. All the time. And Elena and I of course helped out.

(Not that is was hard. Most of the kids were well behaved and hilarious and adorable.)

There were these two kids... I can't remember their names... um.... I'll call the boy "Boy" and the girl "Girl". Not that hard to follow, right? Riiiight?

Anyhoo, Girl had to be picked up from school, which wasn't that far away. Walkable distance. And of course we all wanted to get out of the house for a bit, so we left early so we could walk slow and talk.

Now, keep in mind, surrounding the school is a bowl of a hill. Hill allllllll around. One time, Jessica, Joy, Elena and I were walking to the park, we had all run down one part of the hill. And it was awesome.

So, as we came to Girl's school, I remembered this one time that we had all run down the hill. And I remembered it was awesome. And fun. And awesome.

As I said, it was a bowl around the school. I decided I wanted to run down the hill to the school for kicks.

I stood at the top of the large hill, debating.

Then Elena said, "Go. Do it."

So I did.

At first, everything was going fine. I liked the wind in my face, and the thrill of running down a bowl...ah...hill.

Buuut... I couldn't keep up with my legs.

I fell face first. (at least I assume I did...)

I heard a pop, and warning signals flashed through my brain, telling me that there was something wrong with my shoulder, but since I didn't feel anything, I ignored the warnings and got up. Everyone was laughing. Including me.

"Man," I thought to myself, "I must've looked like an idiot falling down. Ooooh no! My pretty while shirt! I hope it isn't grass stained."

As I got up, the warnings got louder.

"Are you okay?" Elena yelled from the top of the hill.

"Uuuuuuuuuummmm." I put my hand to my left shoulder, and the bone that was supposed to be there wasn't. "N-no..." I then noticed I couldn't bend the fingers on my left hand. "Nooo..I don't think so..." And then I noticed I couldn't lift my left arm. "Guys...something's really wrong!" I yelled. Then the numbness started going away, and I felt a stab of pain. "Ow! Oh no! No, I'm not okay! Something's wrong!"

Elena was by my side, by that time. She started coming down the hill at my first "no".

I had lifted my arm across my chest and was holding it, but it hurt like heck.

"ELENA!! HOLD MY ARM! HOLD MY ARM!!" and she did. She grabbed it quickly.
How it was held was, my elbow was in line with my shoulder, and then my forearm was out straight.
"PUT IT DOWN MORE!!" I screamed. She did. "TOO LOW TOO LOW TOO LOW!!!"

Finally she got it at a place it was tolerable.

I don't remember who asked, but someone said, "So what do you think is wrong?"

"I...I think I" I gasped.

Then there was some back and forth chitter-chatter about what parent could take my to the hospital and what-not.

Now, bear in mind that I have a high pain tolerance. Probably from being stubborn. But this really rrreeeeaaally hurt.

And I hyperventilated. Between gasps I said ow. And a couple of tears came out. Not many though.

At times I'd tell Elena to adjust my arm, higher or lower.

So, there I am, not able to lift my arm or bend my fingers, but to make matters worse I felt awful that someone had to carry my arm.

"Are you okay?" I kept asking Elena.

"Yes." she'd reply.

"Are your arms getting tired?"


"But you're carrying my arm."


"Are you sure they're not tired?"


I don't know how many times I asked her if her arms were okay. I think I kept asking because I knew they were tired. And I felt really bad.

Well, soon we came to the Cliffords' house. Mrs.Clifford wasn't home, because she was doing her bus-run. So we'd have to wait.

Elena gently escorted me to the kitchen table. And as I slowly sat in my chair, she put my arm on the table. It hurt.

Mrs. Clifford didn't have a cellphone, and Mr. Clifford was at work.

"Mom'll be home by 2:30 time." Jessica said. (I don't really remember what time it was, but it was around there.)

So everyone sat at the table. Except Elena. Elena wandered behind me.

"Oooh," she said, "She's crooked."

"Don't tell me THAT!!" I sobbed. Because I knew if it was dislocated I'd have to have it cracked back in place. And Elena and I watch a hospital show and we both remembered the episode when someone had a dislocated something that needed to be popped back in. And the doctor who popped it back in said "This is gonna hurt a lot, buddy." and when she cracked it back in place the person SCREAMED in so much pain.

So I was terrified my shoulder really WAS dislocated. Which I knew it was. So I was not in the most agreeable mood.

Sure enough, though, Mrs.Clifford arrived at 2:30. The girls told her everything.
"Well, I can't take her." Mrs.Clifford said. "I have to leave again in 15 minutes and finish my school run. You'll have to wait until Mr.Clifford comes home."

(Oh, by this time I had frozen peas on my shoulder, which was helping a little.)
Mrs. Clifford called home, and Dad answered. She quickly told him everything. There was a little pause, then Mrs. Clifford turned to me. "Your dad says you're a goof."

I smiled. "I know he does." I said.

Then mom talked to Mrs.Clifford. Then mom wanted to talk to me.

I was done crying, by that time. All I wanted to do was sleep. And barf. And sleep.

I don't remember what mom and I said, but I remember some parts.

"Do you want me to come down?" Mom asked.

"No." I said.

"I can, you know."

"I know. But you don't have to."

"Are you sure? I can come down and take you to the hospital. And I can be there in like, 45 minutes if there's no cops."

I smiled a little. "I know. But you don't have to."

"Do you want to stay at the Cliffords after you go to the hospital?" Mom asked.

"Yes." I recall saying it in a "Du-uh" kind of way.

Mom laughed. "And you know if I come down I'll make you come home with me?"



And I don't remember any more of the conversation.

Mrs.Clifford then started talking to me. "Maybe it's not really dislocated. Maybe it just hurts."

I know she was trying to cheer me up, but the thoughts that went through my head were "It better be dislocated! I had to have someone carry my arm home for me, and I heard a pop and everything! And I told my mother I thought it was dislocated, so it better be!"

Another silence followed. Then Mrs.Clifford informed us Mr.Clifford would be here in 15 minutes(or something like that) and she left to finish her bus-route.

The Cliffords are very good with time. Mr. Clifford arrived exactly when they said he would. Jessica and Elena (I think) ran out to tell him he had to take me to the hospital and all that jazz.

"Is one of you coming with her?" he asked.

I thought Elena would be the first to say "ME!" but no. In fact Elena didn't want to go at all.
As I said earlier, we watched the episode where the guy had the dislocated blah blah blah, and Elena knew that it would be a lot of pain for me. And she didn't want to see that.

"I want to go." Joy said. I was happy that Joy came along. (Elena and Jessica still had to pick up Girl from school.)

Elena came to my side with the look of dread. She had to pick up my arm again.
"I can't do it! I can't!" I said. My shoulder was in so much pain the thought of moving it made me sick.
Nevertheless, Elena eversogently grabbed my arm. And with much jaw-clenching and teeth-grinding and gasping, I stood. A wave of sickness hit me.

"I-I think I might barf." I choked.

Joy ran and grabbed me a bowl for the car trip, and a pillow to support my arm.

Elena and I started to walk out. About three feet from the car I told Elena to stop. I thought I was really going to barf. I didn't want to get in the car, I wanted to wait a couple more minutes and clear my head. But Elena told me I had to go the hospital and made me get in the car.

Now, getting in the car was SO. MUCH. FUN. (sarcasm)

I got in the passenger side, and my left shoulder was dislocated. Hmmm. Oh boy.

Mr.Clifford was sitting in the driver seat, waiting for my arm. Elena was trying to get my arm in as far as she could, but she couldn't pass it all the way to Mr.Clifford.

"GRAB MY ARM GRAB MY ARM GRAB MY ARM!!!" I yelled. Mr.Clifford did. "PUT IT DOWN!" I cried. He did. Gently on the pillow. I sighed with relief. It felt less painful on the pillow. It was like, the perfect spot. And, after getting my seat belt on, we were off!

I'm gonna take a break now. I started this when it was light out. It's not anymore. I'm gonna be evil and make you wait awhile for the next part. Mwahahahaha!
Thus ends part one of my blog. :)

Friday, October 28, 2011

My final words.

To the livers of the world:

Just for the record I didn't mean "livers" as in the body part, I meant the "livers" as in
"the people who live in".

Glad we cleared that up.

This is my life story, for you who is reading this. Hmm... perhaps I should make my writing more


But no. Not like that.

My life started when I was conceived, as did my trouble.
As a fetus I was always in my mother's womb.

I don't remember being in the womb so I'll leave that part out.

When I was six years old I had a lisp.

When I turned seven I still had a lisp.

I decided not to talk anymore when I turned eight, so I'll leave that part out too.

In my early twenties I met the love of my life, Polly. Sure, being in love with a parrot is not an easy life, but I chose to live it.

Polly ate, slept, repeated everything and pooped.

..I soon got a divorce. Polly wasn't my true love, after all.

Soon after THAT heartbreak, Mary-Etta-Jane-Anne came into my sad life.

She also soon left. And that I was happy for because M.E.J.A was...well...stupid.

At least Polly could poop in one spot.

After lonely sad seconds of waiting, I fell in love again. This time to a woman named Bob.

I'll admit, Bob had a few manly features, but she assured me she was a woman.

I married her in a week.

Bob soon gave birth to seven and a half children.

The half was part parrot.

We named them

Bob Jr



Bob Jr Jr



and Jimmy.

I'm almost at the end of my scroll, so I'll finish quickly.

I'm old, therefore dying. Life sucks.


Bob and I stayed married until our deaths. Which is like, in a minute.

Our kids changed their names (who knows why) and Jimmy works in a circus. Life is good. And sucky too, I guess.

Well, I'm still not

Talk to you later!

(For the record I wrote that for Linda 'cause she found a scroll and wanted me to write something on it. Cool, eh?)