Happy Christmahanaukwanza!

In the space of about 12 hours, all of the Christmas decorations were dragged out of storage, put up and out, and family gathered around them, merrily celebrating the warming presence of one another.

The Spirit has finally found me.

Merry Christmas, everyone. :)

Beware: Picture bombardment ahead

Californ-I-A...there was so much done in so much time (?!) that I can't even begin to tell the stories that go with the pictures. So, you're getting the random quotes instead. :) Here's the weird...I'm sure the wonderful will follow one of these days...

Has anyone seen my eyelashes?


Despite all of the pumpkins, all I could think about was that apostrophe.


Whew! Crossing the parking lot sure was treacherous--thank goodness we'll be safe here.


...it was a long night...


Reflecting can be more tiring than you'd think.


"New England Clam Chowder."


"I'll take foreign methods of sacrifice for $1000, Alex."


A fresco to remind the Californian government workers that it could always be worse--they could be working naked.


This was one AWESOME trip.

Quote of Last Night:

"But you haven't seen my balls yet!"
...

I don't think I'll share the speaker of those words with you--just let it be enough to know that there was a video clip to go along with those words. A video clip that was followed by this next quote:

"Oh God.

I

saw

his

balls

!"

Apparenly the right amount of alcohol slows your reaction time just enough so that things like that can happen. Good times, good times. Food, then alcomohol, then more alcomohol, and then...I don't remember.

The King of the Party


The Queen of the MSN Wink


The Un-anonymous Alcoholics

Song of the Moment: "Lips of an Angel" - Hinder

Honey why you calling me so late?
It's kinda hard to talk right now
Honey why are you crying? Is everything okay?
I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud

Well, my girl's in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on

It's really good to hear your voice say my name
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words it makes me weak

And I never wanna say goodbye
But girl you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of an angel

It's funny that you're calling me tonight
And, yes, I've dreamt of you too
And does he know you're talking to me
Will it start a fight?
No I don't think she has a clue

Well my girl's in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on

It's really good to hear your voice say my name
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words it makes me weak

And I never wanna say goodbye
But girl you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of an angel

Honey why you calling me so late?
...

This song has been on the radio for a little while now, but I hadn't really listened to the lyrics until a few nights ago during my long drive home from work. I swear I nearly puked--the song was just soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo it for my hopelessly romantic heart that always roots for the happy ending to stories of unrequited love.

Not that I have any of those kinds of stories for myself... ;)

And here it is...

...the Chirstmas rant.

It's a balmy, sunshining Spring day outside. It'd almost be perfect--except for the fact that it's Winter (okay, Fall if you insist on waiting for the equinox later this week). It's supposed to be blustery, snowing, and frickin' COLD with Chirstmas being only 10 days away...but it's not.

Sure, I've saved about 10 minutes this year so far by not yet having to remove my heavy duty winter coat from its plastic shrink-wrapped hibernation, but I WANT it to be cold and all--it's just not Christmas without all the winter fixin's.

Despite the 24 hour Christmas radio stations, despite the 24 hours glow of city and neighbourhood Christmas decorations, and despite Wal-Mart's accomdating 24 hour shopping availability over the next week and a half (I know! Are they NUTS?), I just don't feel it. I've started my shopping, but I honestly don't feel the rush to finish it. I've booked the dinners, but they just seem like run-of-the-mill pot-lucks rather than the joyful Christmas gatherings they are. I'm just not feeling the Christmas spirit I usually OD on at this time of year.

My Christmas tree isn't even up yet.

:(

A Greatly Expected Vanity

I took a silent pleasure this morning as I drove into the parking lot today at the sweatshop and took notice for the first time that the streets behind the building are named "Dickens Street" and "Thackeray Place."

I bet I'm one of 3 people in the entire building who knows where those names came from.

Tough Decisions

Think about it...what do you decide? (Just a note: these ideas aren't my own, as much as I'd love for them to be.)

When getting out of a seat in a row of closely bunched seats, do you give those still seated your crotch or your ass as you exit?

Someone farts and it stinks real bad. Do you breathe through your nose and smell it, or breathe through your mouth and eat little airbourne poo particles?

You're really inexplicably late for a job interview; call ahead, explain you'll be late without a good excuse and go through the interview anyway, or do you saunter in an hour late claiming "I'm late? But I swear you confirmed my interview for this time!"
...

It's 12:30pm. I've been at home on a secret mission that has given me good cause to be away from work. Really, I think it'd be totaly pointless to head in at all today, but yet here I go. Why? Because I'm already starting to beat Slimy at his waiting game.

Last night
"Hey, Slimy, who's that jacket you're pressing over there for? It's not one of our production runs."

"Oh, it's, um, it's my wife's."

"Wow, you're taking special care to bag it and everything! Your wife must really like you!"

"Um, yes...I'm going home now."

"Oh, already? Well, I'm staying for a little longer. See you tomorrow!!!"

"Yes..."

*whoopah*

I am so going to win!

Sweating it

Still here at the sweatshop. It's beyond quitting time, there's nothing left for me to do today, and yet, here I sit. Why? There's this one guy who's still here and I refuse to let him have the factory to himself. He's just the sort of character who's a little too smart for this job. The kind that you have no idea what he does on his own. A comment once made about him was "I wouldn't be surprised if he has his own little clothing operation on the side, and just works here to get the little things he needs for his own place."

And so I sit and blog.

Really, if you were to meet this guy, you'd get the same slimy feeling I do when he's snooping around. Guess what one of my first orders of business will be when I'm in charge? *whoopah* (That's the sound of my whip cracking.)

While I'm big and bossy here at work, outside, I'm a big wimp. Case in point:

I was walking to the shop from my car yesterday, when some dude cycles by and makes a pass at me. Of course I accepted his compliment graciously* and proceeded to cross the street. No sooner than I get across the street when I hear someone calling to me. Turns out the dude made a u-turn and was on the other side of the street, calling to me. I called back that no, I wasn't single and continuted on my merry way...until I saw him make one more u-turn. So I did what showed my cool best: I bolted for the front door of my building and sprinted up three flights of stairs. I am so chicken-shit. In my defence, as I was running up the stairs, I heard someone burst into the building and start skipping up the stairs after me. It would be conceited of me to believe that it was that guy, but still...little creepy, n'est-ce pas? To date, however, cycle guy has yet to resurface, thank goodness.

Woo-hoo! Guy left the building! I'm free to go without worry. But be sure that I'll be spending more time at work blogging--well, whenever Slimy's around that is.

A definite madness

But at least there's a method to it.

Again, back to the sweatshop. What was once "the" sweatshop is slowly yet surely starting to become "my" sweatshop. I've spent the past two days organizing and putting labels on everything. Really, there is no greater pleasure than seeing all of the files in a neat order in a drawer, all of the labels making sense and matching fonts.

*sigh*

Yet, there is still work to be done. Seriously, this place would be an OCD's dream and nightmare.

Also, I'm finally starting to realize why mom and dad used to get so exasperated back when they had to follow me and Brodder around, picking up after us. I do it everyday here with my aunt. Though apparently neatness and order are not enough to keep her organized. Memory helps a lot in that department. After half an hour of searching through the newly arranged files, she threw up her hands in frustration and plopped herself into a chair, only to realize that the paper she'd been looking for had been pinned neatly to the corkboard above her desk...by her own hand.

I digress...

What I at first thought was impossible is now slowly coming into fruition.

I can do this.

That's a lotta info

I know it's not uncommon for me to disappear for weeks at a time, but this time, it's just too much to recap what I did in the last two weeks while in California. Too much. But four days I can sum up fairly easily:

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Ta-da!

But yet, since I've come home, I can't seem to keep my mouth shut about what I'm up to now at the sweatshop. I can't keep my mouth shut because I can't help sharing with everyone just how much I HATE it.

Well, I don't HATE it, more like very strongly abhor it.

Okay...I don't abhor it either, but I might loathe it a little.

Working at the factory isn't what's so bad. It's not even that with my lack of Cantonese I'm having trouble communicating with the other workers. It's really just having to learn how impossible it is to work with my aunt. I'm sure that's it's not good karma to talk public smack about my relatives, so I won't (though feel free to ask), but I can share that I've already blown up at the two female relatives that I have to deal with here at work, plus this other guy that just KNOWS how to get under your skin.

"When you asked me to do it, did you really mean that you were actually going to do it yourself?"

"No, you are not helping me, you're hindering me."

"Wait, you mean the key doesn't work in the door like I told you it wouldn't?"

"You ask me if I'm serious about taking over this business, but are you serious about quitting this business?"

Blah!

At least when I gave my public chastising of these people, the supervisor Kat got a kick out of it. I liked that. Of all of them, I like her the best. I only hope she likes me.

Honestly, I don't know if I can put up with this that much longer. As cool and awesome as would be to own my own business so that I can learn to be an entrepreneur, I haven't learned a thing the whole time I've been here. Well, I've learned that my aunt is one of the most disorganized people I know...but that's besides the point.

At least mom and dad have been really supportive about the whole idea. When I was excited about it, to when I began ripping my hair out, they were with me. Mom's even been sending me job postings for cooler positions in California and stuff. So I know that if I do end up cutting and running, at least the 'rents are cool with it.

Who knew I wouldn't really like handling a whip? I guess it's understandable since my aunt's whip was misplaced years ago in her whirlwind of an office and she's since replaced it with braided scraps of leftover cheese. That's not funny...it's not even true...but that's how I feel. Like I'm working with leftover cheese.

Happy Libra Birthday!

NoooOOoooOOoooOOOOooOOOoOOOOOOoooOOooO!!!

My camera was set to 640x480 resolution this weekend--what's the point in taking pictures?! :(

What usually takes me HOURS to upload, took me under a minute this time...that's poo. But at least I can still remember that I had a good time that night. Despite what the colour of my face may have indicated. :D What can I say? I'm asian.







I know it's been forever, but work seems to have this ability to suck the creative life out of me, not to mention any motivation I would have at the end of the day to plop myself here in front of yet another desk (I'd say computer, but I actually no longer have one of my own at the office) for another few hours to vent out what I have little enough of to share at the end of any given day lately.

One of the great things about work now, is that although I'm not going to be there anymore after this week, I've met a coworker that I can actually get along with and hang out with. Yay KM!!! She and a few of her girls came out to JA's on Friday--despite the 3 hours notice that Dawson gave us (but thanks!!!)--and we all hung out and drank ourselves dorky.

"What do you mean that you're not going to be a your work after this week?!"

Well, what it means is that I've moved on. Just two short months at that office and an offer came along that I just couldn't refuse, so I quit. Well, resigned with a month's notice. Too bad too--my health benefits would have kicked in right around this time too...do I ever miss my dentist...

So where am I going? I'm heading from the world of Philanthropy to become a slave driver. ;) At least that's what everyone assumes when I first give them the description of my new workplace.

"I'm going to be running a clothing factory downtown in Chinatown!"

No, it's not a sweatshop. My aunt's owned a clothing factory for as long as I can remember, and is now stepping away from it to focus on one of her other successful businesses. So when asked if I wanted to give it a shot at running my own business, I said "hell yeah!" Wish me luck. I've never done ANYTHING like it, and am probably going to threaten to have a nervous breakdown in the very first week--I've already learned that not all business-people are necessarily NICE people--but I'm still taking the plunge. Afterall, when am I EVER going to have the opportunity to put the title "Entrepreneur" on my resume?

In the time that I've been away from blogging, I just wanted to ensure everyone that I haven't matured a bit. In fact, (although I was unfortunately camera-less that night) one night we poker people got together and after the final showdown was played and won, excited as school children staying up late on a school night (which is exactly what we were doing) we headed out to a quiet parking lot to drop mentos into bottles of diet cola and watch the geysers explode.

Two attempts and a soggy sleeve later, we did have a little geyser of our very own, but it was WAY overrated and actually quite anti-climatical--who knew it was so hard to screw a cap back onto a bottle? 5Alive said it best in his pre-geyser rant:

Guys--look at us! Here we are popping Mentos into pop bottles when there are two people DOING IT in that van RIGHT OVER THERE! And if we were REALLY going to do this right and IGNORE them, then at least we should set the thing off on top of the security guy's car over there while he's sleeping in it! Mentos in pop; WOW are we simple.

Gotta love the logic. Sure we're simple, but so what?

Finally, before I rush out to meet some long-lost friends, I must share my favourite early, yet last-minute birthday gift with you. On the one hand, I went out and bought mom a handheld Sudoku puzzle because she loves them so much. On the other hand, Brodder went to Medieval Times last night and came home with this story to share:

...It was alright, but the thing that really threw me off was what they called the women there. There was one princess, but other than her, all the other female cast members were called wenches...

Song of the Moment: "All Good Things" - Nelly Furtado (feat. Chris Martin)

Honestly what will become of me
Don't like reality
It's way too clear to me
But really life is daily
We are what we don't see
Missed everything daydreaming

Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Come to an end come to an
Why do all good things come to end?
Come to an end come to an
Why do all good things come to an end?

Traveling I only stop at exits
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets in and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why

Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Come to an end come to an
Why do all good things come to end?
Come to an end come to an
Why do all good things come to an end?

Well the dogs were barking at the new moon
Whistling a new tune
Hoping it would come soon
And the sun was wondering if it should
Stay away for a day
Til the feeling went away
And the sky was falling on the clouds were
Dropping and the rain forgot
How to bring salvation
The dogs were barking at the new moon
Whistling a new tune
Hoping it would come soon so that they could die
...

Why do all good things have to come to an end? I just wanted to stay and play and play and play and play...

NACIVT - Washington DC 2006

You know what kind of boy it makes Jack

I had a fairly blah moment today at work. It was while I was scanning my list of online MSN contacts (though without having the time to actually carry a conversation with any of them) and seeing that at least half of them were silent and with an "away" or "busy" status because they were all "at work."

At work. Man, does that mean we've all grown up? Or does it mean that we just haven't found the job yet that allows us to always be "at play"?

I will know when I have found my vocation when I find that whenever I'm at work, I'm still at play.
...

Read the freakin' funniest resume--no, sorry, Curriculum Vitae--with brodder tonight. When I have more time and energy, I would like to share it with you...but I don't know if that's going to happen anytime soon. Why?

Washington D.C. in 2 days and counting...!

The dreadfully dark Descent of my working life

Whoa. I just took a look and realized that my last 4 blogs were gripes about work. The only gripe I have this time about it (because there probably won't be many blogs without any gripes about work from here on in) is that it kept me from posting this post on Monday when I first tried to write it.

August 21, 2006 - Monday
It's amazing how much we rely on being connected. Last night (Sunday), the power went out and regardless of the fact that we had been preoccupied with other activities prior to the loss of light, Brodder and I could only sit and wait for power to return to the electronics that we'd ignored until then. And then today at work, the internet connection isn't working and so I'm reduced to pen and paper blogging at my desk since my computer duties are basically null and void until reconnected, and since my phone lines are being tied-up, holding for the tech-guys at Bell.

Others in the office are also wandering around, having little to do without the internet either. We actually sort of look like rescued zombies, having been returned to our true human state, stepping dazed and blinking, away from our monitors and into the light. I kinda like it--it amuses me.

Speaking of amusing, while the lights were out Brodder nor I could find the flashlights. We found something to suffice, but what we we used instead only goes to show you how nerdy we are. Booklights. That's right, LED booklights that we had been given for Christmas earlier on in the year. At least when we thought of them, Brodder still had to take the plastic wrap off of his--mine was already open and broken-in. And we couldn't just hold them like you would any other light source--no. No, we had to make sure we could be as efficient as possible in our newly darkened surroundings, meaning we went the hands-free route with them.


We are so related.

Anyway, speaking further of amusement, after our tournament and dinner en masse this past Saturday, 8 of us Tigers--upon the random recommendation of the waiter's friend's friend--we went to go watch The Descent. The movie itself wasn't all that amusing--I don't think I've ever been so stressed out while just watching a movie before--but the events to unfold throughout the movie were.

First off, we turned out to be that giggly, rowdy bunch that everyone glares at, arriving late as the commercials were running; our big, shadowy, hulking mass intruding on everyone's field of vision for longer than the customary few seconds.

Next, it turns out that my teammates' volume on the court is transferable to quiet, confined spaces like the theatre too. The first startling scene to pop up set the two next to me screaming. Of course they were the only ones in the theatre to do so. But, since the bunch of us were all together, with each shriek came a slew of stifled giggles. If one girl wasn't sared, the other one would be and both would end up vocalizing her fear, despite all efforts not to. It was a hilariously vicious cycle.

Now, The Descent was the kind of movie that didn't have a strong plotline, but loved to scare the bejeebus out of you via surprising spectres and grotesque gore. Therefore, all of the girls in the group were all stressed out--myself included--in anticipation of the next big "boo!" During the suspenseful parts, I'd be hugging my knees to my chest as my heart pounded and my muscles would grow sore from being so tense for so long. Anyway, it was during one of these stressing moments that the funny-bone tickling event of the night took place.

As before, it was a terribly suspenseful scene--possibly the most drawn-out one of the whole movie. There was only one character, alone on the screen while the rest of the scene was filled with looming darkness; the kind that something was sure to spring out from. My heart was pounding, my knuckles were white, my body was losing circulation. All eyes were wide and glued to the screen in silence, waiting...and then it happened.

*Ppppppffffffttttt*

Someone farted.

I could NOT stop laughing. My face and stomach hurt SO much from trying to silence my sobbing laughter.

Of course it turned out to be one of our group that had passed the gas--but at least when he did it, you could hear his determined attempt to have held that fart in. It was simply a struggle that he didn't win--and from the sounds of it, it had been quite the struggle.

You've got hands

"Did you want any coffee?"
"No thanks, I've already got mine from Tim's." *pause* "Oh, did you want me to make you some coffee?"
"Oh, yeah, that'd be great."
...

*snarl*

Heaven forbid you should accidentally walk across the street while on one of your dozens of chain-smoking breaks and buy yourself a cup of coffee for a buck! Or even worse--heaven forbid you should learn to use the coffee maker to make yourself a cup of coffee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, not only do you have the option of using your own two hands to make a cup, you've also got the option to dole out a couple of pennies from the salary of yours that's about 20 times the size of mine!

Lazy f'in ------ men.

Again?

That's it: the job's gotta go.

I started work this morning at 9:00am. I finished work this evening at 9:30pm.

(Holy crap, even I didn't realize I'd worked over 12 hours until seeing it written down just now!)

Due to all the CRAP I had to deal with at work, I didn't:

1. budge from the general area of my desk for the whole day,
2. mail my RSVP for Jean's wedding until 10pm, meaning it'll only JUST get there in time,
3. call the City of Toronto to see if I still had to pay a parking ticket,

and worst of all,
4. though I wrote it, I didn't get to send in my review of my favourite professor!

I mean, sure, I got free food and snacks out of staying late, but I don't get overtime, I don't have this evening to relax, and I'm behind now in my own life! I'm sure that if I'd insisted to leave, I could have, but damn my good work habits that have me finish the task at hand before leaving! Too bad this task was just so damn daunting!

Anyway, for anyone who's interested, read on to find out why I love my prof so much that I was disappointed for not getting to send this review in on time. I just want SOMEONE to know what I think!

Simply stated, I am of the opinion that ------ ----- makes an excellent professor at the University of Toronto at Scarboorugh. As a lecturer, he arrives prepared with an agenda of texts and topics to cover, and as strongly as he encourages student participation via thoughtful questions and comments, he is able to remain on schedule without having to skip material or interrupt any interesting thoughts a student may introduce. As well structured as each of his classes is, so are his entire courses; no texts are missed due to too much or too little time spent on another. Quizzes, tests, and exams are announced well in advance if not indicated on the syllabus at the beginning.

Many students—-myself included—-find Professor ----- very approachable, partly due to his comparatively young age amongst the average faculty member, and partly due to the fact that his courses cover more contemporary areas of interest. He also genuinely listens to comments students make in and out of class; it is not uncommon to see ----- take notes while a student is expressing a particularly unique idea.

With courses such as American Pop Lyric and Rap Lyrics as Poetry, I think that Professor ----- sets an example to students that obtaining a university degree is applicable not only to job situations, but to the pursuit of personal interests and curiosities as well. His enthusiasm in class is contagious at times, and all enjoy attending classes regularly—I recurrently have problems ensuring that I can enrol in his courses, let alone worrying about finding a seat.

Along with only a few other faculty members I have had a chance to study under the guidance of, Professor ----- is one of those that I think is genuinely a great asset to the staff at the university.

It can only get better

Yesterday I thought I'd treat myself to a Timmy's on the way to work since I'd left the house early enough. Bad decision. I got there, saw the drive-through line was short, and pulled into line. Worse decision.

It took me 10 minutes just to buy a coffee and a croissant.

At first I sat in my car and grumbled at the thought of people lining up for drive-through in order to buy enough to feed their whole office at once. But as I sat there a little longer, I watch the people place their orders fast enough at the speaker, but then have to wait an eon before inching up to the window. And then I watched one of the employees come out of the back door to slowly don a pair of gloves and a traffic vest in order to sweep up the garbage that no one had had the chance to litter out of their window yet that day.

*Growl*

To top it all off, after I finally got my breakfast, raced to work, and squealed into a parking spot, my coffee got knocked over as I was reaching for my bag and fell top down onto the floor of the car.

*blech*

Oh, and to top all of that off, there was a client waiting to be let into the office by me in order to drop off some paperwork--a client with the WORST B.O. EVER. Nice guy, really, but he just reeks! Talk about starting your day off on the wrong foot; the rest of the day just followed the same, miserable suit.

*sigh*

Today wasn't all that much better. It took me 5 hours to do something that should have taken me only 1, just because my boss decided that he didn't like the address labels after he'd approved them 3 days ago. I stayed 2 extra hours today to try to get myself organized and I'm still in disarray.

Optimistically: because of my boss' indecision, I taught myself to photoshop today.

And bonus: Adam the air-conditioner guy came in today, just to say "hi" and smile at me.

Today wasn't that bad.

Not like when it was Easy

What a poor blogger I make. I sell out to one crappy job that I'm at only for the money, and even though I have my own, unsupervised use of an internet connected computer, I haven't blogged in weeks.

On my first day at work, I was all excited, hoping to become one of those faithful to get busted at work for blogging on company time, but no, not a peep from me. I'll admit I tried once, about my second day in, but to no avail, simply due to the fact that my strict work ethic (and my conscience) got the better of me. I'm going to put it down to the fact that this is a busy time for the company and that I'm being kept occupied to the point that I can't seem to spare a moment to jot a note down...but I'm hoping that will change this week.

This week, my supervisor is on vacation! Wooooooot!

So, what do I do? Whatever is needed. I think my official title there is "receptionist." How thrilling. Though I think I'm going to have to SERIOUSLY protest if they ask me to do the dishes once more. I only did it the first time because I was too tired upon my return from New York with my Tigers to have been coherent enough to complain. We got back at 4:30am, I was up for work at 7:30am. Yeah, that was my first day--soooooooooo worth NYC.

Anyway, so my duties include a LOT of order processing (which takes up pretty much my WHOLE day), making coffee (which I've done...twice), mailing letters (meh--a moderate amount), and answering phone messages (which I've forgotten to do a couple of times...at least). As of July 24th, I began my job and my three months probation--but to be honest, I don't even know if I'll stay that long.

Though the thought of actually having benefits of my own and getting to visit my dentist for the first time in probably a year is very appealing, this job isn't really worth that. I mean, it's not like it's a hard job or very taxing or anything, it's just not really any fun. After having been in the customer service industry for 10 years, getting to meet and work with new people everyday, this monotonous office job is killing me. I mean, if I at least got to answer the phones and talk to the people calling me before they left a message, I MIGHT have a different POV, but I don't, so I'm going stir-crazy.

It's sad, but it's true. I miss my old job at the Easy. *shudder*

But though I shudder, I knew that was going to happen.

Don't assume they're always listening

See that big screen TV? That used to be ours--we just got a new one. That picture of it was taken last night as it sat on our curb, hoping that someone ambitious would come cart it away for their own home since after months of offering, no one we knew would claim it.

Before it got to the curb, it was in pristine condition. By the time it got to the curb, it had a crack in the bottom of the frame. How did that get there?

"I just want to see if it will slide down the stairs."

That was dad's comment as he and Sherman were moving it out the front door and encountered the front steps. The seven front steps. The seven concrete front steps. It could've been worse.

And then, remember how I just explained that it was on the curb because no one we knew or offered it to would claim the behemoth? Well, we spent months asking around; whenever people would come by for a visit, we'd make sure that we'd remind them that the TV was free to a good home. Really, we meant any home. Since we were rejected time and time again, and since we'd already bought our replacement TV for it, to the curb it was, hoping someone else might take it in.

Today, Squiggly popped in.

"Hey, are you getting rid of your TV? Can I have it?"

ARGH!!! Oh did I let him have it. Of all of my friends, he'd been by the most, and therefore had been offered the TV ten times over. Poo-head. And then, he had the nerve to ask me to help him drag it back up to the top of the driveway so that he could come pick it up later tonight. Men. :)

On a lighter note, I figured out how to use YouTube and now have a video to share with you. Especially since we're on the topic of men and the amusing things they say or do. Mr. Brickhouse here is my own personal ice-cream decorator.

If it's not one thing

Still no job. I do, however, finally get to sleep in my own room tonight. The angry pink room. I still like it, though mom and dad have both tried to discreetly tell me they don't. They won't come right out and say it though, which is why I'm leaving it the way it is.

"Well, as long as you like it," is all I'm getting out of them.

If they'd only just say "paint it again", I'd buckle down and get right on it. Truth be told, I really don't care what colour it ends up (just not puke green) and I actually enjoy the process of painting. Oh, and I have no job. So if they wanted to change it, it would have been dandy by me. They had their chance.

Just after squeezing all my stuff back into the room, I lay down on my bed to take in the new view. That's when I realized I forgot to put all the covers back onto the electrical outlets. Oops. At least I have a chore for tomorrow.

Other than that, my mission for tomorrow is to attempt to tan out my volleyball tan from this weekend, in order that I can wear my strapless dress to a wedding this coming weekend without looking absolutely ridiculous. As someone mentioned:

"If you just take a marker and draw lines where my tan ends, it still looks like I'm wearing my shorts and t-shirt!"

Ugh. And the worst part about it is that it's an obvious line. It's probably going to take a couple of sessions in the sun to work out, but I've only got until Saturday. Woot.

Well somebody's blind

And if they're not blind, then they're most certainly deaf.

Driving home right now, I was flipping through the radio stations when I heard a song that made my jaw drop. It was Paris Hilton's "Stars are Blind."

(I'm not sure that I put the quotes in the right place there...I want them to be around "Paris Hilton", implying that we all know that that song isn't really hers.)

Anyway, it wasn't her song that made my jaw drop...

(because that had happened long ago when I first heard that Paris had "recorded" anything at all)

...it was that her song was being played on FLOW 93.5FM. That's right. FLOW. FLOW?! Flow is supposed to be "Toronto's HipHop and RNB" and here they are playing Paris. Paris of all people! I mean c'mon!

JT has his beats. X-tina's got her soul. Nelly's got booty (pronounced "boo-TAY"). But Paris?! I'm confounded. I'm being stupid, I know. But I just can't get my head around it!!!
...

In other news: first volleyball tournament of the season. Here's confounding: we played, we won a trophy, and yet I'm no where close to being overly enthused. How can you play fair, and yet play to win with SEVENTEEN girls on the roster? Last I checked, we were still playing sixes. All that aside though, I still love my team.
Go Tigers!

My 3 Favourite Men

No, I'm not up early; I'm awake extremely late. I've just finished applying to a whole WHACK of jobs. Some of them, I don't even want to admit to having applied for, but when you're broke, ya gotta do whatcha gotta do.

Unfortunately, I expect to hear back from precisely ZERO of my applications. It's always the same. I'm either over-qualified or under-experienced. If nobody will give me a chance, how I am ever to ruin this rut?

On a brigher note, after watching Superman Returns, I spent the rest of my night/morn daydreaming about the steamy superhero while talking to TK as Sherman slept on the phone. How could that part of my night have gotten any better? It couldn't have.
...

Superman review: I would TOTALLY pay to watch the scene again in which--
< SPOILER ALERT > Don't highlight the next part if you don't want to know!
Jason SLAMS that piano into that bad-ass mofo's face!!!
AWESOME!!!!
...

TK - I only reappear when the moon is full and I guess it was just time
Me - really? It's a full moon out right now? cool.
TK - no, I just guessing that is since it is so rare that I'm ever appear online
Me - isn't that supposed to be a blue moon then?
TK - never seen a blue moon but that works too
TK - but then again I never was very good with those expressions
Me - that's okay, when I'm around I'll take care of those.
TK - sure CHAMB
Me - LoL. I can't believe you read that!
Me - BUt thanks.
Me - And also, for the record, (but don't tell anyone) I missed a letter.
Me - I should actually be a "CAB-HAM"
Me - I forgot that I had a middle initial I could throw in there too.
TK - that's going to be little trivia that no one will ever figure out
TK - but congrats on making it out
Me - hehehe, thanks.
Me - lot of good it's done me...I'm still unemployed.
Me - either over qualified or under experienced.
Me - phooey.
Me - :(
TK - don't worry, you're investing your time on that huge book deal that's coming later in life
TK - so no phooey
Me - awww...you always know what to say....:)

Brought to you by the letter Eff

Eff. Effin' A.

My plans for the fast-approaching morning had first of all been to get a good night's sleep after having wandered the zoo all day. Then, somewhere between spending money I didn't have on a get-well gift (not to say that my no-money wouldn't be well-spent), and loading up on effervescent vitamins, I was also planning to simultaneously paint my room and do all of my laundry. By the time six o'clock rolled around, I was supposed to be energetically making my way down to my first practice (and following team-run) in almost a week.

And yet, here I am at four-thirty in the morning--slouching so low in front of a monitor I'm practically sitting on my back--alt-tabbing from blog to blog, game to game. Why? No reason. It just seems like it would take more energy to get up and crawl into bed rather than just continue to zombie-out, waiting for the sky to get light out. Sometimes I wish somebody would just turn me off.

(Oh eff, did I just shove my foot in my mouth again? Effin'.)

Lions and Tigers and Bears...oh my!

There were also monkeys, macaques, orangutans, giraffes, owls, snakes, spiders, alligators, turtles, birds, butterflies, hyenas, fish, and so many other animals.

Sherman and I spent the day at the zoo, but despite having beautiful weather, a packed lunch, a map, and over five hours, we STILL didn't get to see it all. But that's okay, because when it came down to it, it was all about the good time had and the memories made. I wouldn't have spent the day anywhere else. :)






Happy Anniversary, Stupid...