Language break

Alright, I just finished a load of filing...something that I've been avoiding for MONTHS. So much so that I had to hire Hand-Me-Downs for 2 days to try to make a dent. :( However, having HMD around the office for 2 days, then having good wine again with her over the holidays was really something special. It's like we bonded.

But she still didn't get me anything for Christmas.

Then again, I hadn't paid her yet for helping me at the office. Even.
...

I wish I could take a screen shot of my BB. My WeatherEye app is telling me it's raining triangles of glass. Watch out.
...

Mom, in the presence of our cousin's 1 and 4 year old kids, after dropping the cordless phone in a sink full of water:

    "Shit!"
    "Goo-goo! Watch your language!"
    "Well what the heck would YOU say?"
    "'Oopsie-daisy!'"

No you wouldn't. No one would say that.

And then, like mother, like daughter. Doing some Christmas shopping at Chapters with Crazy Malcolm, I came across a hardcover copy of Dr. Seuss's The Grinch who Stole Christmas. I immediately wanted it for my new found little love and flipped it over to see the more-than-I-expected (but totally-worth-it) price.

    "Fuckers!"

Seeing as the book I was exclaiming over was a children's book, that put me in the children's section. Surrounded by...children. Malcolm elbowed me hard and gave me the "watch what you're saying--there are children around here" look. I sheepishly hid behind the book cover and mumbled the correction to myself.

    "I mean, fudgesicles."

BCE [Best Christmas Ever] - The Highlight Reel

(This day is going by RIDICULOUSLY slowly, so it feels like I have time to blog. Logically though, I know that it only feels that way.)

- GMa insisted we all play Wii Fit--she started us off with 19 points in the Soccer-Ball-heading-game. I stepped up to the plate and scored a whopping 441 points. While I was still in the victorious throes of my I-am-Awesome dance, quiet, Double-Jointed cousin stepped up and scored A PERFECT GAME of 500 points. She stepped off humbly and simply shrugged her shoulders: "Oops."

- I got Raptors tickets (yes, this is an awesome highlight in itself).

- Crazy and I booked a weekend stay at the Zambri Resort and were permitted to bring Moo with us. He was more popular than we were all holiday. Even those who weren't supposed to love him, did. Cousin DJ grabbed him up and hugged him--though she could break out in serious hives. MBA picked Moo up the instant he stepped in and proceeded to block all of his breathing passageways by rubbing him all over himself. Moo was semi-thrilled in the way that cats always are. When he tired of his own popularity, he slept out of reach either on top of the China hutch, or tucked into the duct system in our basement ceiling.

- Food.

- Good wine. I picked one--Sibling Rivalry--based purely on name alone. It was yum. Brodder's glowing-red face was proof enough of that fact.

- FamJam at the ROM day. Crazy arranged for the fam to have breakfast, see the Terracotta Warriors exhibit at the ROM, and then have sushi lunch all downtown on the 27th. It was so awesome that the four of my family passed out (probably mouths open) in the car on the way home while Crazy dutifully didn't laugh and drove us all back to the Resort.

Fudge, I feel like there was so much more, but 5 minutes have now elapsed and I feel as though I should get back to work...perhaps more later. Hopefully before the new year.

I don't wanna work...

He - "Going into the wash - whites and lights. Up next, tire size."
Me - "You're the best! I'm missing all this porno at home!"
...


...

And yesterday he was vacuuming and mopping. AND he fixed the central-vac outlet that I'd broken! <3
...

Update - 12:49pm

He - "Kitchen porn just happened."
Me - "Dammit! I'm missing EVERYTHING!"

Defining myself

A friend of mine described a recent pub crawl as being ependary. It took me a while to get that one. After comprehension set in, I decided it wasn't a good word. If I'd put the words together, I'd have come up with "legendic." So there.

Drinking over the holidays this year is going to be legendic.

It will be. And people WILL get Simmy'ed. Oh will they get Simmy'ed.

A little love

I think I fell a little in love today. She's four-years old, her favourite letter is "C" and she parked her butt in my lap all morning to colour and "help" me after I made her an origami frog and we became friends.

She bounced into the office with her dad today, but after discovering there were strangers in her midst, she clung shyly to his leg. She hid in his office practising printing her alphabet until she was sent to "help" her dad by bringing me some paperwork. I was ready.

    "Hey there, thanks! Hey, I'm making something for you. Do you know what it is?"
    She shook her head shyly, but didn't retreat.
    "It's going to be an animal. What animal makes the sound 'ribbit'?"
    "A fwog."
    "That's it!"

So I presented her with my creation. After I showed her how to make it hop, she was ecstatic. She'd run off to show her dad but came back shortly after.

She loved helping by running things back and forth between offices. There was once she ran so fast she tripped over herself and fell--only to look up from the floor at me to grin a 10,000 kilowatt grin before getting up to run off again. She helped me crease the folds in letters, stick stamps on envelopes. After she'd run out of things to help me with, I asked her,

    "Do you want to get your colouring and come colour with me?"
    "Yes!"

And off she ran to get her things from her dad's office. I proceeded to clear a little spot at my desk for her to sit at and was about to get up to get her a chair when she'd returned...to climb right up into my lap.

*sigh*

And so she sat there happily drawing the rest of the morning away while I (tried) worked around her. At the end of her time at the office, her dad asked her to give everyone goodbye hugs before leaving, but she was too excited and ran out the door,

    "I'm going to see the Raptors game!"

Watching her little figure retreat down the hallway to the elevators, I fell a little in love today.

Twice in one day?

Mmmm...volleyball...

Back to Basics

I accidentally deleted my entire Custom Dictionary off my BB today. I meant to delete just one entry that annoying kept inserting itself, but I got rid of them all instead. Dammit.

Anyway, I've since been texting and have been re-teaching my BB the custom words that I use. My new current dictionary went from having zero entries, to a whopping total of four:

fuck
haha
lol
shit

Goes to show how intellectually classy my text-conversations are.

Not like I used to

One perusing click and I'm catapulted back in to April 2005, when I made $6 an hour and where my biggest worries were my back-to-back exams and my missing volleyball. But the nicest thing about that time of my life--the long-ass blog posts.

With the coincidental exception of the last handful of posts, I feel like my pieces of grey-matter-vomit have been getting shorter and shorter and that makes me feel...wussy. Reasons for possible abbreviation of recent posts compared to long-ago posts?

• I used to write on paper before posting electronically? Who knew how long my language-doodles could get in a class that didn't catch my attention?
• I used to have exams. When I had to write papers, it was so much easier to write other things instead...like blog posts!
• I had time to spend endlessly musing over life, love, and the universe as I thought I knew it (as opposed to spending my time studying).

Even this post that I thought would write itself as a sort of "those were the good old days" kind of post is finding itself falling a little short. Probably for the best, anyway. I'm in bed, it's late, and the cat is testing me for internal weaknesses, thereby blocking my view of the screen and of my word-count.

Romancing

I think that I love you
I think that I do
So go on mister
Make Miss me Mrs you
...

But how do you know?
...

It's nighttime, and my skin is hating me. I have no idea what the fuck it wants. I'm out of the sun already, and I moisturize more than usual. Something inside wants out and while I'm not stopping it, I don't know what it is so I can't help it!
...

Ye born in the month of October are most likely instilled with an innate sense of romance--you're Valentine's babies, afterall. I know I am--instilled with an innate sense of romance, that is.
...

Boo sent me the last episode of FREINDS tonight. I watched it and sobbed like the sap that I am. I miss my FRIENDS.
...

I'd get off the plane.

Supplies!

An Italian, a Scotsman, and a Chinese fellow were hired at a construction site. The foreman pointed out a huge pile of sand and told the Italian guy, "You're in charge of sweeping." To the Scotsman he said, "You're in charge of shoveling." And to the Chinese guy, "You're in charge of supplies."

He then said, "Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you guys to make a dent in that there pile."

The foreman went away for a of couple hours, and, when he returned, the pile of sand was untouched. He asked the Italian, "Why didn't you sweep any of it?" The Italian replied, "I no hava no broom. You said to the Chinese fella that he a wasa in a charge of supplies, but he hasa disappeared and I no coulda finda him nowhere." Then the foreman turned to the Scotsman and said, "And you, I thought I told you to shovel this pile."

The Scotsman replied, "Aye, ye did lad, boot ah couldnay get meself a shoovel! Ye left th' Chinese gadgie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldnay fin' him either." The foreman was really angry by now and stormed off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese guy.

Just then, the Chinese guy jumped out from behind the pile of sand and yelled...

"SUPPLIES!!"
...

Thanks for the supplies, Crazy. It was a great birthday. :)

Hello, Toast!

I FINALLY got a chance to eat at Toast last night and was I ever tickled pink by everything!

The place is tiny, nestled in a corner of Leslieville and you would totally walk right by it had you not been looking for it (or in my case, had Crazy not spotted Dad through the window--and we were looking for it!).

The fam had been seated by the window on 1/2 chair, 1/2 couch tables. Mom was stuck on the couch with me (despite many offers by Brodder to switch) but I was perfectly content with my seat. Our tables happened to be the marble-top type with wrought-iron bases, but the other tables were just as full of character--little retro/diner tables with original art on them.

As for the decor, I LOVED it! Original art by local artists covered the walls which had been painted a rich red. The cute tables, mismatched chairs and cutlery, taper candles on each table, and toasters everywhere! Go see for yourself. The salt and pepper shakers were adorable--each table had their own unique set. Ours had been 2 spuds, french fries and ketchup, and 2 bears. Tables near by had a crate of oranges, a set of coffee cups, cheese graters...they were so cute. But, the pièce de résistance for me, was the ceiling.

The ceiling (which I could not stop peering up at all night) was painted a plain, solid black, but was dotted everywhere with...ready?...golden toast! Yup, they don't show it in the pictures, unfortunately, but someone took the time (and many slices of toast, I'm sure) to dip toast into gold paint and carefully stamp the slice onto the ceiling. I. Loved. It.

Food choices are limited but popular--the calamari and something else were sold out by the time we got there. We order mussels, samosas (not something to share, trust me), and the foie gras poutine. Each time the server came to take the plates, he found me desperately trying to scoop up the last dregs of remains...the sauces were delish. For entrees, Dad and Crazy each got the special of "white veal with roasted pears, mashed potatoes, and root vegetables," I got the baked Atlantic Salmon with dragonfruit salsa, wild rice and veggies, and Mom and Brodder both got pastas--penne with either pork tenderloin in a dijon cream sauce, or chicken (and mushrooms?) in another cream sauce.

Y.U.M.

I was fed a piece of the veal--SOOOOOOO tender and delicious! The pasta was a little al dente, but not too much so. My salmon was soft and juicy, but I wish there'd been more salsa! Or butter. Mmmmmm...butter.

We were too full for dessert afterward ("I have 2 slices of carrot cake left, 2 chocolate brownies, and an apple tart") and Mom didn't want to be wired by any caffeine, so our toasted experience ended there. Well, it ended after the boys bickered over the bill so much (Crazy won) that the server was sure we were going to go out into the street and brawl.

It'd been over a year since I first heard of and wanted to go to Toast, and now I have and I'd be HAPPY to go back. Even if it was just to stare at the ceiling. :) Well, to stare at the ceiling while trying their Cranberry Cream Cheese French Toast.

Salut!

My Vampire Diary

When I wake up and realize I forgot to close the blinds, I have to panic. I don't play down at the beach anymore. I wear sunglasses, a hat and a scarf to go out during the day, even if it's summer. I no longer ask for a seat by the window. I am slowly becoming a vampire--a champion of the night--fearful of the sun. I don't drink blood yet; hopefully I won't have to.
...

Okay, maybe not a vampire. I don't turn to ashes like Dracula, I don't glitter like Edward (though that'd be an awesome alternative, considering). Instead, I burn in minutes, hive in hours, then my skin peels for days. Even if I'm wearing sunscreen. It's just come up, this allergy to the sun, so I'm not used to having to deal with it.

I still remember the days when I was a kid and all the other mothers were slathering their kids with sunscreen while my brother and I were already out and running through the sun, completely unprotected from the sun. The other kids would still burn by the end of the day--we would go home unscathed with golden tans.

Now, I stand outside in a parking lot on a sunny, but cool autumn day for a 10 minute post-lunch conversation and I breakout. I sleep in while the sun streams in through the open blinds on my face and I breakout. FML.

Who's allergic to the sun? Who develops an allergy to the sun after more than a quarter of a century of loving to soak it up? I asked my GP the last time I went to visit her during my latest bout if there was anything she could think of that I could do to prevent breakouts. She sadly smiled and shrugged and sympathetically suggested:

    "Live in a bubble?"

*sigh*

And so, I'm confined to long-sleeves, pants, scarves, hats and sunglasses at least until December 7th when I can finally visit my dermatologist and allergy guy. At least it's not the dead of summer. :(

Answers

    "I have two answers for you. One is in the form of a popular love ballad: If you don't know me by now / you will never never never know me / OOOoOOoOOoooOoOoOOOoooO."
...

She gave me a second answer, but I can't remember what it was.

Taking Care

When you go to see your foot/ankle doctor and you ask him "Is my ankle fat?" and he takes a look and can only raise his eyebrows in silence as he inspects you for a moment before saying "wow, that's fat," you know your ankle's fat.

    "If it's still that big in a few weeks, come back and I'll suck the fat outta there."

Comforting. Actually, he's really an awesome doctor. I can't wait to get my new orthodics.

Speaking of new, I bought myself the purse I'd been eying for a while. I. Love. It. So does Señorita. It's so nice looking, sturdy, AND functional!
...

    "When you get here, don't park in the driveway--park on the street."
    "Why?"
    "So that I can get my car out. I am taking care of you tonight."

And how!

My sister proceeded to take me out for my steak (ridiculously big--I'd made the pasta for lunch today), drinks, a delicious dessert I was too full to finish, and then wine back at her place before drifting to sleep on the couch while we contemplated life and love and everything in between.

    "You asleep? Alright, c'mon, let's get you to bed."

It was the pampering I'd needed from one who knew exactly how. Thanks.

'Snot bad

My morning coffee is nice and hot in its thermos travel mug. Unfortunately it didn't travel with me to work and is just sitting on the kitchen counter. :( Neither did my iPod. Of all days.

I made a discovery last night--screw wadded up tissues for snot-catching; paper towels are where it's at! With a perpetually clogged nose last night, I was too tired and frustrated to make my way all the way over to the other side of the room to grab my tissue box. Instead, I snagged a small sheet of Bounty paper towel because it was closer. And that's all I needed. That one freaking little sheet lasted me the whole night straight through to decongestion! Eff yeah!
...

I want a really big steak for dinner. Or pasta. Or a really big steak WITH pasta. Mmmmm...nothing beats delicious comfort. Nothing beats the knowledge that your sister will be THERE for you, either. Amazing.

Say what?

It's totally Friday today. Totally.
...

Last week I was stuck in this loop where starting on Wednesday, I thought it was Friday. So I was hoping for Friday three times, but was disappointed twice. This week, I got it right. And so far, it's been a pretty snazzy Friday. (Snazzy? Yes, snazzy.)

[Not] very superstitious

I was riding the elevator today when I noticed something. My office building has a 4th floor. Not TOO Earth shattering since it's an older building, before they starting omitting the fourth floor for the sake of superstitious Chinese residents.

But.

My office building has a 13th floor too!

Take that, superstition!

But then I was so caught up in wonderment about the gall of having those floors included in the directory that I ended up getting off on the wrong floor. n00b.

Quote of the Moment:

    "Women are like teabags--you won't know how strong they are until you put them in hot water."
    --some chick on Project Runway Canada
...

...and cue MBA's comments re: teabags.

Not quite the shirt off her back, but close

My best friend visited me this morning. I needed shoes that she had, she wanted shoes that I had. I needed them for this weekend. I told her last night. And yet, bright and early this morning, she was here for me bearing the shoes I needed--she solved my situation.

Groggy and still shaking off the sleepies, I accepted the shoes, and then went on to complain about how I'd forgotten my earrings this morning and was feeling assessorily naked. Without hesitation, she solved that situation for me too:

    "Here, wear these ones."

And she handed me the earrings she was wearing.

I *heart* my Señorita.
...

This is still my favourite Señorita quote.

Ben & Jerry's saved my life

I have to much to tell and not enough time to tell it. Ah the story of my life. Boston was amazing, Cape Cod and Provincetown were gorgeous, and Salem was thrilling. But of course it's good to be home. Though this was my first NACIVT trip where I technically got to have my home with me the whole time...

Two wrongs?

The other day I dropped my phone on the sidewalk. Not unusual of me, especially since I've never really kept my phone in a case. The brief whiles that I kept my phone in a holster, I still managed to drop it on the sidewalk on the one exposed corner of the phone and scratched it to hell anyway.

Anyhoo, I dropped my phone, picked it up and went on my merry way as usual after a drop. But then I got a phone call...and I couldn't hear a thing. So I rebooted. Then I got another phone call...and I STILL couldn't hear a thing. So I got Crazy to check the volume settings. Then I got one more test call...nothing. I determined that my callers could hear me, but that I couldn't hear my callers. :(

Resigned to text messaging only, I went home. Then my brother called. Explaining into the silence after answering that while I could not hear him, I knew that he could hear me, and if he would be so kind as to resign himself to texting me, that would be grand. Our conversation continued with him texting me and with me responding with single-sided phone calls.

By about the fourth single-sided call, I vented my annoyance by banging on my phone's screen with my fist as I waited for it to tell me that it was connected and I could start speaking at my brother. But then,

    "Hello?"

I could hear again! Thrilled, I wrapped up my conversation with my brother, called Crazy to share the news, and then took a moment to bask in the knowledge that I didn't have to deal with finding myself a new phone.

Now I only have 565746796416 things left to do.

Signs

I had a long drive today. I wish I'd had a camera--any camera--with me. The signs on the road on the way made me smile to myself.

I was asked to break for snakes. I didn't see any though.

I drove by Joe King's Road. I wondered if it was just Joe King's Road.

I passed the road to Go Home Lake.

The drive left me with a lot of time to myself--something I haven't had in a while. Just time to left my mind wander; just time to think and ponder. I thought about holding on to somethings, and to letting go of others. About fighting for love, about giving into it. I went through the what-ifs, the buts, the if-onlys. I sometimes drove in silence and I sometimes sang along loudly to the songs. I had a coffee all by myself and I felt better.

I can't be sure, but I think the three-year mark is rolling around.

That'll do, Donkey, that'll do.

Second week of work at the new place and yesterday I quickly and creatively solved a problem which elicited the response:

    "Shit, that's really good."

So far, so good.

On to the next

Not only can I take care of myself, but I can do anything. Waiting really sucks when all you want to do is push on and move forward and grow up. Sometimes you can't do anything about the wait because it's not your timeline to control, but you can definitely do things to fill the time while you anxiously count down the time until it happens. You can do things to distract yourself from the time that isn't under your control.

You can go on trips. You can get pampered. You can fall in love.

You can wrap your co-worker's desk in packing tape.




I digress.

But whatever the case may be, the point is that while the waiting is hard, it doesn't have to be a bad experience. With some teamwork, you won't even notice the time fly by.
...

Last day today. First day on Monday. Next adventure is on!

Quote of the Moment:

    "A creature of habit; you get stuck in a puddle too long and you'll grow webbed feet."
    --new Bestie at work

But I already knew that

Today I:

picked up coffee for myself and 2 other people, setup a payroll system, trained a new employee, set up meetings with my new employer, went to the bank, responded to personal email, responded to work email, responded to volleyball team email, went to the bank, fed myself and one other person, prepared an order, prepared a batch of shipments, created a work schedule, resolved my own Blackberry problems, answered phones, drove home, rode the subway, attended a baseball game, gave directions, was courteous, went for a several kilometre walk, rode the subway again, cleaned the kitchen, washed pots and pans, loaded the dishwasher, started the dishwasher, did two loads of laundry, folded 2 loads of laundry, put away laundry, showered, packed up a vacuum cleaner, did graphical edits, emailed about graphical project, blogged, and thought about going to bed.

I can take care of me.

Wasn't quite what I was looking for either...but I accept

And so, I've found something else interesting that I thought I would share with you. It's filed under the "interesting" links, and it definitely IS interesting. In that witty, higher-sense of humour sort of way.

Ugh, I don't know what to say about it. Just read it. It is for all of us who have been ever asked to do a design, make a pie chart, or to censor ourselves. If there was an emoticon to express "F--- you," I would probably have inserted it here.

Enjoy.

Plox?

It's probably so empty because no one can figure out what they're asking for on the cup.

His other one...

As Crazy said, "his winter beater's probably a Ferrari."

Well MY other one's a bike

Ehbaba and her hubby came for a visit from down under this month. When they arrived, Crazy and I offered them the use of one of our vehicles while we were away for the weekend, but Mr. Ehbaba graciously declined because one of his friends had already arranged to lend them one of his.

So, Crazy and I took off for the weekend.

Upon our return, the four of us met up for a movie--Inception--after which we walked together to our respective rides. Crazy and I headed towards the Corolla, ehbaba headed to her Mini Cooper S, and Mr. ehbaba headed to his borrowed car...a fire engine red, Porsche Boxter convertible.

    "Well no wonder you didn't want to use one of our cars!"
    "Actually, it was either this or the Mercedes."

Decisions, huh?

Quotes from the Weekend

As the Bride and Groom meet at the altar to exchange vows:
    "Hey, did you hear they're coming out with a Hangover 2?!"

During the Bridesmaids' speech, after apologizing if they sound like a Hallmark Greeting:
    "We hope you guys last."

While on an angry tirade about men:
    "If you have a sausage, stand clear of the Sa!"

Cut it out, will you?

Will people just stop getting married already?

It was so weird to come across pictures of a wedding online that years and years and years ago I may have once sat with the bride, dreaming about that day so distant in the future as scrawny (well, I was, anyway) little girls do.

There are two weddings I'm going to this month. One more in September and another in November. There's at least going to be two more next year. Though I guess if I want to compare anything, that wedding schedule is nothing compared to years ago when I did 12 in 10 months. Is it selfish to say that there's one I'm looking forward to more than all the rest, and it isn't even on the radar yet?
...

So I made the mistake of offering my limited graphic and layout abilities to a few parties in the last little while. Of the three parties, one I can handle; they understand I have my own life, that some graphic designs can be limiting, and that things take time. But they appreciate my assistance. The other parties are driving me nuts.

They're either not paying me, or not paying me enough. They expect immediate turnaround times when the project is asked of the night before. They have no clue what sort of time and effort to into projects like these. They have zero knowledge of what they want, or how they had it done before.

They don't know it, but I've quietly boycotted their work for a week now. Do I feel bad? Not really. But seriously, some people are going to get some EMAILS soon.
...

14 days until I stop mucking around and 17 days until I really get down to business (hopefully).

Food fight

Back off, get your own sandwich!

Seriously, people. Seriously.

The smaller things

- a point at a message in progress on screen
- a public status announcement

It's those small things that add up to so much more.

Tomato.

Opposites attract

Driving through Elora I saw a road sign.

"Ooh! An optimist club! I like it!"
"Oh I don't know about that..."

#2 Resolution

Last night I got on my bike for the first time in what had to be at least 5 years. I was terrified. And I hated it. I didn't hate being on the bike, I hated that I was terrified.

It's true, what they say, that you never forget how to ride a bike. But I forgot how to be fearless. Crazy handed me his helmet before getting started, and whereas when I was a young teenager I shunned even the thought of having to wear a helmet, this time I readily accepted.

Pushing off, I wobbly made it down the street before coming to stop to wait for Crazy because I'd decided I was too wobbly to turn around yet. I slowed down through the turns. I took 3 more blocks of leg burning uphill pedaling before I was comfortable enough to stand up and pedal. We accidentally came to a dead end so Crazy turned around and hopped the curb--I turned around and walked the bike down.

I've already convinced myself that it's because my bike was out of tune that I was so scared of riding it or taking the turns too fast. But I know it's not. It's me. Where did the carefree-ness of just DOING it go? Just letting go and trying it without considering the consequences? I guess some people would consider that being responsible. I think it's being chicken-shit.

My resolution?

I will not be Poultry #2. Watch out, cycling, I'm coming back.

Mirage

I saw the ice cream truck in the parking lot. I ran upstairs to get money. I ran back downstairs to the parking lot. The ice cream truck was gone. :(

Sobbingly proud

I spent the quiet morning in the office silently sobbing. Maybe I needed a good cry, but really the articles below were really well written. They hit just thatclose to the heart. And then mom called me and of course I had to tell her about the stories.

ma - ...and then I've been moping a bit and thought I should call you and gab!
me - And here you are and all I want to do is make you cry! Go read them.

Brian Burke carries torch in memory of Brendan
'We love you. This won't change a thing'
There's a light that never goes out
...

Happy Canada D-Eh, and Happy Pride Week. Be Proud.

From the Pronk'd past

Went through the drafts just now. Deleted one. Probably going to delete another, but this one I can keep to share. I feel like writing a whole ton, but I don't think it'll be postable. Maybe I should make use of my lieu day soon...
...

Internet's down at work again. Apparently the server's just being reset, but it sure is taking forever. Doesn't help that everything work-related that I could be doing needs internet access. Ah well--no better time to (try to) catch up on some good ol' fashioned hand-writing.
...

Being the overly optimistic person at I am, I accepted the challenge task of making a GIANT SIZED poster, even though I wasn't exactly sure of the specs and stuff I would need. 3 hours later (I was on a deadline), I'd learned how to, and had created my first vector image. 24 hours later, I was nearing expert-level and had finished my second, much better looking vector.

Next, was a website. I knew I could create one with online tools (hello, blog), and I knew I could make them with Google Sites, so I did. Then I was given a domain name and host ftp...and I spent all of Sunday refreshing myself on HTML from scratch. 4 hours later, I had that website up and running without a WYSIWYG in sight!

Alright, I'm a little full of myself at the moment, but I'm pretty darned proud of myself for meeting those deadlines and for being able to now do things I couldn't do just hours previous.

I told GB about it and she told me "I like that about you. You look at something and say, 'I'm going to do that' and then you do."

It's true. Look out, World, there ain't nothin' I can't do (that Google can't teach me)!

Song of the Moment: "Love the Way You Lie" - Eminem featuring Rihanna

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe
I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight
High off her love, drunk from my hate, it's like I'm huffin' paint
And I love it the more I suffer, I suffocate
And right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me, she fuckin' hates me
And I love it, "wait, where you goin'?"
"I'm leavin' you," "no you ain't come back"
We're runnin' right back, here we go again
So insane, cause when it's goin' good it's goin' great
I'm superman with the wind in his back, she's Lois Lane
But when it's bad it's awful, I feel so ashamed I snap
Whose that dude? I don't even know his name
I laid hands on her
I never stoop so low again
I guess I don't know my own strength

You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe
When you with em you meet and neither one of you even know what hit em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah them chills used to get em
Now you're getting fuckin' sick of lookin' at em
You swore you'd never hit em, never do nothin' to hurt em
Now you're in each other's face spewin' venom in your words when you spit em
You push pull each other's hair
Scratch pop hit em throw em down pin em
So lost in the moments when you're in em
It's the face that's the culprit, controls you both
So they say it's best to go your seperate ways
Guess that they don't know ya
Cause today that was yesterday
Yesterday is over, it's a different day
Sound like broken records playin' over
But you promised her next time you'll show restraint
You don't get another chance
Life is no nintendo game, but you lied again
Now you get to watch her leave out the window
Guess that's why they call it window pane

Now I know we said things, did things, that we didn't mean
And we fall back into the same patterns, same routine
But your temper's just as bad as mine is, you're the same as me
When it comes to love you're just as blinded
Baby please come back, it wasn't you, baby it was me
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is I love you too much to walk away though
Come inside, pick up the bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk?
Told you this is my fault, look me in the eyeball
Next time I'm pissed I'll aim my fist at the drywall
Next time there won't be no next time
I apologize even though I know it's lies
I'm tired of the games I just want her back
I know I'm a liar if she ever tries to fuckin' leave again
I'ma tie her to the bed and set this house on fire

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

Trafficus Ignoramus(es)

Traffic is unavoidable in the city of T-dot. But the things that peeve me to no end are: traffic for no reason, and people who just don't obey the rules.

Traffic for no reason is fairly self-explanatory. I mean, I understand when sometimes there's an accident on the highway that ties up traffic and creates a huge jam, but that gets cleared away by the time you reach it. But sometimes, there's just traffic without a cause and that drives me bonkers.

The other one, about people not following the rules, has two parts to it. There are the people who are just dumb and do dumb things that break the rules, and then there are the ones who just blatantly disregard the rules of the road. Cases in point:

• Yesterday I arrived behind another car at a three-way stop. The car on the left went through the intersection, then the car on the right went...and then the car on the left went. The car in front of me had luckily been aware of the area we were in (one that's rife with stupid drivers) and had only inched into the intersection. I was very pleased to watch him stare down the stupid, out-of-turn driver, questioning hand out the window with a very disgusted look on his face. Even better when you could tell StupidDriver was ashamed to look in his direction.


• On my way to work every morning, there's a point where I come to an intersection where there is a right-turn lane that MUST exit, and then just left of that is the through-lane to use to cross the intersection after which you may continue straight, or veer right. I have to veer right to get to where I need to go. Usually, there are buses in the right-turn lane who all turn right correctly at the lights. However, every once in a while, there are retarded drivers who use the right-turn lane as a through-lane. I could kill them. It never fails to ruin my drive in when I have to fight these Ignoramuses to get to MY right-veering lane. Today, I cut them ALL off. It's MY right-of-way, idiots.

...

Apparently the term "Ignoramus" has been around since the sixteenth century--who woulda thunk?

Boldly Go Tik Tok

...

That was awesome. Thanks, Shaky.

An elevated vocabulary

Yesterday it was a fam-jam helping Brodder move. Mid-move, we returned from packing things into the van, only to find that someone had stolen our service elevator. Not only had they stolen our elevator (understand that you have to get in, push the floor button, and then HOLD the close-door button until you begin your ascent), they had stolen it just so they could go to the second floor. Seriously.

Brodder ended up having to zip up the stairs to the second floor in order to bring it back down. Not a HUGE ordeal, but inconvenient enough--not to mention completely inconsiderate on the thief's part--to warrant mild-mannered dad to comment on it.

    "I bet it was the same guy that just smoked that doobie outside."

Brodder and I shook our heads; I bet he learned that word from mom.

They'll call me Freedom Forgetful

FIFA Fever. Everyone's got a flag flying out of their car window. I just realized that I also have a flag flapping off my car.

But it's not to show my over-enthusiasm for any particular team to win the World Cup.

It's not even a flag of a country (Canada) that's IN the World Cup.

It's so I can remember where I parked the car. Woo!

Sounds like team spirit

Sitting in traffic the other day, I found myself stuck behind a van flying Brazil flags out each window. Being in the midst of FIFA fever and it being a Brazil game day, that didn't faze me. What did faze me was how long it took the driver to notice the jersey clad, flag-wrapped, yellow and green hat wearing Brazil fans walking down the street next to the van. But then he noticed.

Honking ensued.

And then the driver was on the ball. There was another Brazil-flagged car coming from the opposite direction.

Honking ensued.

There was a lone jay-walker wearing a Brazil jersey, picking his way through the traffic.

Honking ensued.

And then I guess he just had an epiphanic Brazil fandom moment and he just leaned in on that horn for a solid 10 seconds.

And then I made a left turn out of traffic. :)

On Demand

If you're a Rogers customer you can sign up to watch the FIFA World Cup live online.

    "I can't get the game to work downstairs. I've tried everything. Restarting, downloading an update for Flash, signing out and signing back in..."
    "Want me to try it up here?"
    "Nah, I know it'll work up here. Anyway, even if I got it to work, I can't hear it because there aren't any speakers on that computer."
    "Well, if you want, I can stand stand next to you and just go: BzzzzzzzZZZZZZzzZZZZZzZZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZzzZZZzzZzzZZZZzzZZZzzzzzz. Would that help?"
    "Hahaha. That's true, that might help."
...

Sounds just like it, I swear.

That's what she said

    "Dear summer, stop teasing us. Thanks."
    --The Younger Toe, on FB

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Well, I never was. But, out of respect for a friend's request for anonymity, I kept her secret from his prying eyes. However, I think we're safe now--he's probably realized what a horrible creep he was and probably still is, and has removed himself from the visible blogosphere--and so I've decided to add her to my list as I've wanted to for so long.

Welcome back, dimps! I missed you. And miss you now...see you on Thursday!

Jumping on it

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

If you must know, I'm cheering for the underdog, whoever it may be each game. I could only ever be the goalie in this sport. Using my feet to handle a ball is such a foreign concept to me.

Another chicken joke

Last time I was logged in to blog, I worked for a long time on a post about a funny incident that happened at work. I took the time to write in all the details about what happened, how it felt, what other people's reactions were. It took me a while. It took me so long, I didn't feel like I was finished. That meant I'd taken too long. Good stories are short and sweet and don't take that much effort or time, even if they ARE long. And so...

• lunchtime at work
• Shaggy and YourFace fooling around
• I laughed
• I snorted chicken up my nose
• immense discomfort
• trouble dislodging whole bite-sized piece of chicken led to panic, panic led to more immense discomfort
• overwhelming emotional and physical distress led to desperate dislodging of the bite-sized piece of chicken
• my throat, ears, and nose were sore for the rest of the day into the following

F'in chicken.

Acting safely

Charged with being the Health and Safety representative at work, I spent the other day becoming familiar with the Occupational Health and Safety Act. Every once in a while, I shared a passage or two aloud with my co-workers. At one point, YourFace and Shaggy Jesus were both in the office when I came across the passage:

No worker shall, [...] engage in any prank, contest, feat of strength, unnecessary running or rough and boisterous conduct.

Both YourFace and Shaggy Jesus laughed at the seeming simple ridiculousness of it. After our giggles subsided, Shaggy Jesus called our attention to him. Before our eyes, he danced on the spot, bouncing and flailing his arms in the air at random. Then he broke into a sprint right at me. A few steps away from my desk, he stopped, dropped, and started doing manic push-ups. Apparently satisfied with his efforts, Shaggy stood up with a great grin on his face.

    "Boisterous conduct, unnecessary running, and feat of strength; what other rules can I break?"
...

It's going to be a lot of fun working here...

Why I hate to be without my phone

I received a BBM picture and message the other day from my office mate, YourFace:


This is a picture of me rubbing your phone on my crotch. Then I farted on it.

Great.

I got the message at about noon. YourFace watched me receive it and watched me cringe at the realization of what my phone went through. He burst out laughing.

    "I've been waiting all morning to send that to you!"
    "Ugh. Why didn't you just send it right away?"
    "Haha. I needed you to use your phone some more."

I am definitely moving on up in the business world.

Come here often?

It makes me a little sad to think that it's been a month since I last posted. But so much has happened!





Uh, tell you about it later...

I heart Gmail

I was composing a long email between phone calls and stuff, so it's safe to say that I was a bit distracted. When I went to hit "send," Gmail paused to ask me,

    "I noticed you wrote 'I've attached' in your email...did you mean to attach something?"

I HAD forgotten to attach something!

Awesome. I also love it when you close Chrome unexpectedly, and it pops up a filefolder face that's got Xs for eyes with its tongue hanging out, and it says "Aw, snap!" and tells you something went wrong. Google is my kinda thing.

No, not my tongue

No, he didn't get my tongue. Trust me, I had my fair share of words for the cat yesterday morning. He didn't follow in line with the adage--he went ahead and the cat got my diamond ring instead.

Dang cat.

Trying not to wake my Crazy, I searched through my jewelery tray of MUCH cheaper pieces that he could have DESTROYED for all I cared, but no diamond ring. A search of the surrounding area, even with the light on, revealed nothing either. The only things that coerced me to leave were the fact that it was my second first-day of work and Crazy told me he'd take a look for it for me when he got up.

*sigh*

I felt naked on one hand all day (ring-wearers, I know you know what I mean). It wasn't until I'd told EVERYONE what the cat had done and after I'd visited my cat-enthusiast doctor that I started to feel a little better.

While going through the motions of my check-up, I told her about what Moo had done and asked her for her professional opinion on my chances of finding it again.

    "Oh, well he certainly hasn't eaten it. He's just a cat and cats like loud, shiny things to bat around on the floor for the sparkle and the sound it makes. I'm sure you're going to find it behind one piece of furniture or another."

Lucky for the cat, I did.

I am now in the market for a cat-proof jewelery box. Perhaps from Mexico. 9 more days...

It doesn't pay to be sick

I was just reading an article about politicians musing about charging a $25 user fee every time someone went to visit their doctor. While they apparently haven't considered them, past studies (and there have been many) have decided that it isn't worth it--why penalize the sick? And if anything, it'll deter people from going to see their doctor when they need it, and when they get sicker, it ends up costing more money to health care in the end.

Reading this, I was reminded of a story. :)

I think it was my third-year of university. I was sick as a dog. Like, running a 103F fever. I had an exam the next day. Taking a cue from my friend's friends at another university, I searched up UofT's procedure for deferring exams--$10 to my doctor for a real, legitimate note because I was legitimately sick was worth it to me at that point. However, after reading what the procedures were, I headed off to the exam the next morning anyway.

Sitting there at my desk in the gym, I could feel my head pounding and perhaps a little of the room spinning. Between essays, I would put my head down and close my eyes for a bit. I didn't even care if my answers were cogent or not--I was just so miserably sick and wanted to go home.

My professor for that class had been extra productive and sweet and had baked cookies for the class. After dropping half of the batch on the floor (she was a bit of a clutz), she made her way up and down the rows to where I was sitting to offer me one. I think I had my head down at the time she arrived.

    "Sweetie, are you okay?"
    "I have a fever."
    "Why didn't you defer your exam? I would have definitely approved it."
    "It costs $80 to defer an exam with UofT."
    *beat*
    "Oh dear. Just do your best then."
...

See? Monetary obstacles can absolutely deter people from getting the help (or rest) that they need. Not a good idea, Mr. Politicians, not a good idea.

Meh

There are a lot of drafts building up in my post-list. I keep starting them but never getting the chance to finish them. Some of them are even on paper, but I just haven't gotten the time (or motivation) to get them down.

Just in case you were wondering.
...

A couple of conclusions reached over the past few girl-to-girl conversations:

• Men are stupid. Women are crazy.


• Just because you do unto others, doesn't mean that they'll do unto you.


• Despite all the theories and proven evidence there is, sometimes you just have to try it to find out.


• Women's Intuition. (That's it. Women's Intuition, period.)

Huh, that was it. I thought there were more--but they were probably lost to those spells of no-time, or lacking-motivation.
...

My contract job (did I even mention that?) of 2 months comes to an end tomorrow. I was snapped up for another position elsewhere about halfway through, so while I knew I wasn't going to renew, I let them tell me they didn't have the resources to keep me. And that's what they did, and the meeting with HR ended on great terms.

And then the next day arrived and the director himself tried to keep me. I was honestly flattered, and more than curious...but a commitment is a commitment and I had to decline. There was nothing surefire anyway...they just realized what an awesome asset I would be to their team if it grew in the optimistic way they wanted it to. I wished them the best of luck, and told them to keep my contact.
...

I was reading a...story...of sorts today, and the line that wrenched at my heart?

But...the forgiveness came.

Ugh. It might as well have been "I got off the plane." Only, in the story I'm referring to, he gets on the plane--but it's a good thing.
...

Tired. Should sleep--I spent 4 hours in the kitchen today. Cooking, cooking again, and then baking "it's my last day" cookies. And I had to make sure I baked enough so that when Crazy was done sneaking them away over the course of the evening, I still had some left to take to work. :/

Back to what you know

I worked with Excel for about 5 minutes today. Compared to who was around, I felt like a wizard.

AND, why is it that Mac Excel likes to hide the formula bar upon loading? I only took as long as I did to do up the report I was asked for because the shortcut keys just weren't the same and I actually had to resort to using my MOUSE. Weird.

But that being said, I can't wait to find an excuse to use it again...

Bikini shopping in half an hour. This should be fairly ridiculous. Conversation threads just may be posted later.

Wednesday Randoms

I actually had a sheet of scrawled randoms to post, but I can't seem to find it...

So it took me a whole week to recover fully from that weekend in Tremblant. Would I do it again? Absolutely. But I'd have to check my schedule first to make sure that I don't have any physical activities for the following week. Seriously. My hamstrings hated me. Usually my quads hate me. I don't know which I'd rather be receiving hatred from--it was pretty brutal.

I went with GB last week to a Psychic Fair. Being in Rome, I decided to have a reading done. It was cool enough, only the psychic lady gave me Crazybf's reading instead of mine. I just smiled and nodded as she told me about him. And then I told him about him, and he offered me the $35 back for the reading, since it had been his afterall instead of mine. It'll be cool to see what she has to say about me next time.

I made butter chicken last night and okra for the first time. Not bad. The recipe I followed must have been submitted by a Westerner though--there was NOT enough hot-pepper. :) I even got a compliment (on how it looked) when I took my lunch out of the microwave today at work. Next time, it'll be spectacular!

In less than a month I will be lazing on a beach in Mexico in great company, treated by Crazybf. What a trip. Literally.

Tremblant for the first time all over again

It hurts to type. It hurts to stand up, sit down, get up from sitting down--that one's the worst. My neck and shoulder were so tense I was nauseated from the pinch. My ass is bruised (though to look, you wouldn't know), my knee is bruised.

And yet I want to go again.

Truth is, I actually spent more time on my snowboard, riding it, than I did on my ass (or face) in the snow. I'm nowhere CLOSE to being any good at it yet, but I wasn't the worst newbie out there (I don't think). I would really LOVE to recap my weekend for you, but my arms and wrists and fingers just don't have the strength to get it all out.

You'll have to wait.

Where I was

I was at a friend's house--one of the volleyball girls' boyfriend's house. Most the team was there with a spattering of guys too. There was pizza, wings, pop, and a belated birthday cake. There was Smartfood too--damn you, yummy Smartfood...

The game started quite promptly at 3:15pm as scheduled, and we'd all secured ourselves seats around the room to watch. We cheered at 1-0, we whooped and were on our feet at 2-0. At 2-1 we booed but were still confident--at 2-2 we were deflated but still held on to hope.

After the third intermission, we were all riveted to the screen. Whenever our opponents had possession, the French Teacher was on the edge of her seat, cursing him ("fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou")--much to the strained amusement of all the rest of us. Strained, because we were all intensely focused on the game, but amused because we were all silently cursing the same blue streak.

7 minutes and 40 seconds later, it happened: Canada scored.

We were all on our feet, cheering and screaming--the French Teacher of course being the loudest. My boyfriend swept me into his arms for a celebratory, bone-crushing squeeze. Moments later he swept another girl into his arms to sandwich me between the two of them to the point of lacking oxygen. I didn't care. It felt good.

When we'd finally calmed down, the boyfriend and I made a mad dash out of the house and scooted downtown to catch a show in the theatre district. Thinking we were late, we parked the car as quickly and closely as possible, and sprinted down the street towards the theatre.

With the crazy celebrations that gripped the city in the wake of Canada's golden goal, throngs of people were swarming the streets to pledge their national pride. Having worn my Canada jacket that day in honour of the game, I found myself running through the crowd meeting high-fives being thrown my way at random. It was delightful.

That's where I was. Where were you?

iLove music

Shit.

Today was supposed to be a no-distractions sort of day at work where I ignored emails, texts, chats, and just hunkered down to plow through all the work I have to get done. But then I opened iTunes in this MAC environment workspace.

There. Is. So. Much. Music. I. Want. It. All.

Currently playing: Catherine Wheel - Sparks are Gonna Fly

Crazybf told me about them, and so I clicked. And so I will continue to click...crap.

Nothing but class

Canada vs. US Men's hockey. Crazybf, Dimps and I watched from Casey's at Union. As the mood moved us, Dimps and I managed 2 bottles of wine, Dimps taking the brunt of them. While the game was entertaining enough (in a heartbreaking sort of way), Dimps was even more so. Crazybf was smart (and sober) enough to have thought to catch a few of the special moments of hers on video. But as for the rest of the night, man, I wish I could have just collected up all of the gems she said to share them with the world.

Psst! Your boyfriend eats wings like a pansy!

Psst! You eat wings like a pansy!

Lu-on-go! Lu-on-go!

BOO! BOO! BOO!

Cypress only wishes it could be half as cool as me!

I am one big ball of class. I am nothing BUT classy! *belch*

This shirt makes boys look at my boobs.

I am not BELLIGERENT!
...

As a sidenote: I apologize to ehbaba for negating her efforts to record the game AND her efforts to avoid learning the score before watching in one fell swoop of an email. :/ I'm even more sorry that I seem to be making a habit of doing this to her...

Couldn't litter

Okay, so this post happened, like, 3 weeks ago now and I just couldn't bring myself to delete it, no matter how much trouble I was having with finishing it (even though it was about a Susur meal). Long story short--it was delicious. Short stories short--we made fun of a girl all night for having worn a gown and peekaboo heels on a freezing cold night with an inch of snow on the ground.
...

The internet crashed at work, so I’m familiarizing myself with the keyboard shortcuts on my Mac. Command vs. Control. Would you rather be in a Command or Control environment? Hahaha.

I’ve never used FB Notes before because I’m a blog snob and won’t bother with them. However, it would appear that posting notes is fairly popular amongst those on my Friend List. I read a couple last night, and heck, darned me if they weren’t good! But, I’m still not quite the FB fiend, so I miss a lot of those, and I’m not a super creeper so I don’t frequent anyone’s page enough to catch them. Please get blogs. I like to creep blogs best.
…

Ah, right. So Monday I get a message from Dimps:

“So. Wondering. U and CrazyBF want to grab a winterlicious dinner tomorrow?”

The answer of course was yes, but due to a sudden rush of lethargy, I couldn’t muster up the energy required to peruse the pared down selection of restos that Dimps had prepared. When asked what I wanted for dinner and where I wanted to go, I just lazily left it up to her.

Until technical difficulties at work afforded me 5 minutes of surf-time the next day. Lo and behold…one of the options was a SUSUR option!

Dimps was busy getting her tooth worked on and hadn’t had time to change our reservations to Madeline’s (the Susur Lee restaurant).

“I am going to be [in the dentist’s chair] so will be unavailable to call later on. If you guys want to give it a shot, go nuts.”

And so I did. Table for 3 at 8:30pm that night. My taste buds couldn’t wait.

We got there, and while the decor was a bit much for the eyes, the food made up for it. What SUPER made up for it, was the surprisingly casual appearances of Mr. Susur Lee himself. I couldn't help but gawk.

"Guys! That's him!"

He come out of the kitchen a few times throughout the night--once to personally greet one of the other diners--and I was awestruck each time.

Back to the food.

Appetizers, mains, and desserts were in choices of 3. Amongst the 3 of us, we managed to land one of each of the appetizers, 2 of the 3 mains, and 2 of the 3 desserts. We even had the gall to order 2 other appetizers off the a la carte menu. Man, were we ever happy campers.

Thursday randoms before dinner

I covet the flowers the I see men carrying through the streets of the city. It doesn't matter who the flowers are intended for, what they're intended for, or if they are the man's own bouquet--I just know they're not for me.
...

I had a surprising, entertaining, and reassuring chat today with someone from before. It began as a comment, bloomed into a reply, and exploded into a split-screen conversation between two wordly articulate people who could only ever really communicate through the written word (and best when between the brackets).
...

If there really such a phenomenon as pathetic fallacy, then the world is reflecting my feelings of limbo. I kind of have a job, but I'm still looking. It's kind of cold, but unseasonably warm. I've kind of moved out on my own, but i'm not an owner of any sort. It's kind of sunny, but still very drab. I'm kind of happy, but i'm currently pretty confused. It's not snowy, but it's wet.

Bleh.
...

"Type 'where can I find Chuck Norris?' into Google, and then click 'I'm feeling lucky'."

I did. I smiled. I laughed. It felt good.
...

It's (un) official. The trinity of the JFC shares energy too.

Office-nastics

There's this really wide corridor that runs down the entire length of the office floor. It's just too narrow to fit another row of (half-) cubicles in it, so they've left it empty. Every once in a while you'll come across a table or shelf, but for the most part, it's just completely wide open.

I'm tempted to do cartwheels down the entire way. Actually, if I'd ever learned how to, I'd rather do a continuous length of backflips instead.

I figure it'd do wonders to breakup my day a bit. Everyone's day, for that matter.

With glowing hearts

The 2010 Winter Olympic Opening Ceremonies. Oh man, what a disappointment. I mean, it’s not to say that it wasn’t a good show…it was. Except for the culminating moment. For months, all of the media and broadcasting companies have been making the biggest deal about the Olympics, following every inch of the Olympic flame’s journey across the country. It finally makes it to its destination in Vancouver—it makes it all the way into the stadium—and then, there, in front of millions of viewers, both in person and via television, they experience the worst technical difficultly at the worst possible moment, and we are forced to cringe through a three-quarters complete lighting of a limping hydraulic blunder, rather than gasp in awe at the beautiful, graceful lighting of an international symbol of friendship and fierce but friendly competition.

*sigh*

However. Like I said, it wasn’t a total cock-up. I didn’t watch the Opening Ceremonies in their entirety, but I heard that the rest of it went well. We’d been out for most of the night so when we got home, the Ceremonies were nearly at their high point (they were counting down the minutes until the Flame’s arrival). I caught a couple of speeches, the oaths, the moment of silence (that was really a tragedy). But the one thing that I DID catch (and afterwards watched three times over, thanks to the PVR) was KD Lang’s performance of Hallelujah.

I had shivers. I. Love. That. Song.

As much as I love that song, it didn’t hurt that I thought that KD Lang did a great job of performing it. Her vocals were amazing but effortless. Her presence was captivating. And I thought it was awesome that despite it being the Winter Olympics, she was barefoot. A Canadian-written song sung by a Canadian icon embodying the notion of global acceptance.

I have to admit though, as amazing as the performance by KD was, it was not my favourite performance of that song. There is no topping my favourite performance of that song.

It was at the ACC during a Jon Bon Jovi concert. Leonard Cohen was just that week being inducted into the Music Hall of Fame and in honour of that Canadian achievement, Mr. Bon Jovi selected to sing Hallelujah as his encore. It was beautifully haunting. Not only did he do a great job himself, but at the chorus, he took a break from singing and the crowd sang for him. The sound of 10,000 voices rose up and filled the entire stadium, “hallelujah, hallelujah.”

That was, and continues to be my favourite ever experience of that song.

Crafty Success

I made my boyfriend cry over the weekend, and I was proud of myself for doing so. :) Thanks to all who helped me achieve the effect!
...

After random not-lunch-not-dinner sushi with Dimps on Saturday, we wandered over to the craft store, Michael's. OMG. I was in heaven.

I mean, it's not like I've never been to the store before--I've frequented it a lot, actually--but this was the first time (since Dimps got lost along the way) that I took a few moments to wander the aisles. Usually, I'm so focused when I run into that store. I know exactly what I need to finish my craft at the moment (and usually, it's a last minute thing) so I'm in and out in a flash (that's what she said). But this time, I saw everything.

You know, a whole quarter of that store (yes, a QUARTER) is dedicated solely to the art of scrapbooking? Oh man, like a chump I've been cutting out my own fancy shapes and stuff out of paper and magazines, when they have EVERY POSSIBLE size and shape of ANYTHING iconic that you could want!

And then there was the beading section...and the knitting section...and the accessories section...I left there itching to MAKE something. I guess that's what I would like to do if I could: craft and get paid for it. I would LOVE that. But the things that I make--though the product is well worth the effort-- take so much TIME, that there's no way that anyone could afford to pay me to do those things I do. I don't think so anyway.

If anyone wants commissioned work though, let me know. I'm slowly making my way through my knitted orders, so I'll have time soon!

Who's counting anyway?

2 posts ago--the one about steak--that was my 1000th post. Woo. I suppose had I been paying more attention, I could have made it a landmark sort of post...but inspired writing doesn't really happen like that.

There was an essay/short story (can't remember which) I read in...Grade 10? Whatever the (not so) fearsome Mr. Tucker taught me. Anyway, it was about 2 authors who met on a ferry ride, and for the duration of the ride, they told each other what they were writing about. The first guy took 2 seconds.

    "I'm writing a story about something...I'm not totally sure yet what's going to happen."

And the second guy took the rest of the ferry ride.

    "I'm writing about [this specific historical figure]. It's going to be a novel of 300,000 words." And he proceeds to spell out exactly how many words he's going to spend on each specific part of his character's life and specific milestones along the way.

It ends fairly nonchalantly with the two guys arriving at their destination and parting ways, but it leaves you with the message hitting home--you can't plan these sorts of things. Maybe you had to read it to get it. But for some reason, it's stuck with me.

You can't fit me into a word count.

I swear it's not Crazy

    "Hey hun, if you have any more asshole friends, I wouldn't mind meeting them."

Another step ahead

    "I'll have the steak, please."
    "Okay, sir, and how do you like your steak?"
    "I like it very much, thank you."
    "No, sir, how do you want your steak cooked?"
    "On the highest level, please."

Consciousness Slipping In (and out)

I don't get it. I sleep kinda late, I wake up kinda late. I sleep really late, I wake up really early. I'm tired.
...

I've been ODing on CSI lately. I have to say, I'm enjoying the addition of Laurence Fishburne as Ray Langston. I can't seem to get enough of this show--it just gets my nerdy bone in the right spot. That and Hodges and Sims make the ultimate beauty and the geek with emotional angst ever.
...

Last night (before AND after my attempts at sleeping), I cast out a LOT of lines. I'm hoping at least a few of them hit. It's always nice to know people care about you.
...

My pre-bedtime ritual is to delve into a book to get my eyes all sleepy. I finished my current read last night--The Book Thief--on recommendation from ehbaba. Good. Book. I almost cried. Almost. But really. It was a great read. I probably finished it in 4 sincere sittings.
...

Okay, yet another CSI marathon to go with my knitting...for as long as I can stay conscious that is.

One step ahead of you

    *SNEEZE*
    "Bless you."
    "You're welcome."
...

Yeah. So...I'm an idiot. It's okay if you don't get it--I didn't get it at first either.

Out with the old

Reorganized my sidebar links the other day. It made me sad to decide to take down the links that I hadn't clicked on myself in a very long time. They were classics, but if you hadn't clicked them already, then it was too late to do so--their glory days were over.

I did, however, add a few, so feel free to peruse...or demand that I remove them, depending on your affinity of them.

Misery loves company

I got an email. Knowing I wasn't going to reply to it, I forwarded it to a few of my ladies instead. The responses:

Oh wow... you've officially made my night, Boo. That was so damn entertaining.

That is fucking hilarious! OMG that made my night. Thanks.

That was AWESOME. I can't even give you the highlights of my favourite bits because it would be just be a copy and paste of the entire email!!!

OMG that's super creepster...

HOLY SHIT! this is totally off the reservation!!! scary!!!! Ridiculous!!!
...

I love it. It wasn't my misery that needed company--it was someone else's. :)

Colour Blind

Not everything in life can be defined as black or white. Some things are not definitely wrong, while others aren't absolutely right. There is no rulebook or manual that you can go to to see if something is right or wrong. Even in the cases where there ARE rulebooks, you should see how many little points and sub-sections there are to each rule (trust me, I've looked) because there are just that many nuances that make up any given situation. And despite all of those little points and sub-sections and additions and notes, there's always going to be that one exception to the rule.

This is the reason why we don't have robots that can do very much for us beyond anything that can be defined in binary. That's why all those movies are made over whether or not a machine programmed with 1s and 0s can actually mimic a human experience.

Life is not binary.

For those who think it is, they're missing not just the shades of grey in between, but the whole spectrum of colours that make life beautiful.

Oh bother

It's a cloudy day out...right where I am. Looking out the windows, driving in the car, I can see just far enough in the distance to the edge of the clouds and the blue skies beyond.

I feel like Eeyore...with my own little raincloud following me around.

What I live for

Job searching today. This made my day.



Needless to say, I didn't have that, so I didn't apply. :)

IPA

Only, I can't remember my IPA transliteration symbols, so we're going to have to go with good ol' phonetics.

This was a conversation that happened over the holidays. I'd forgotten about it until now, and I started to laugh my laugh again. :) The words being "phoneticized"? "Octagonal" and my friend's name, "Steph."

    "I don't think any one cares whether or not it's OC-tuh-gon-nl or not."
    "Uh, Steph, it's 'oc-TAG-uh-nl.'"
    "Oh who cares how you say it--you knew what I meant."
    "Sure, Steef."

:D

That Jimmy Kimmel bit

I think two people in my entire blogging career have ever suggested that I censor what I write. One of those people only did it once. As always, I will not be censored once I've written something, but I think it should go on the record that I don't exactly go out and post everything. Public humiliation or defamation of another's character is not exactly my style.

Sure, there are times where I just wish I could throw up anything I feel about someone or something, but sometimes I know that being the writer that I am, I can always find a better way to put it, and if I can't find that way, then I won't. I'll put it somewhere else--somewhere a little more private.

That's not to say that I'm perfect.

There are times when I post things that I've thought to sound innocent enough and they tell more than I meant to say, but hey, at least I didn't say it all. Or sometimes, there are times when I say nothing, and readers read everything into it. Either way, in both instances, it sure can get interesting, can't it?


Anywhoo...the point is...well, there's stuff I'd like to post about at this moment, that I am choosing not to...but it will come out. When I'm ready.

Because it's...

Volleyball cures everything. I was super peeved the other night, but then headed to volleyball, and all peeved-ness was forgotten. I bashed some balls, I hit the floor, I laughed at myself and at my teammates, and I felt better. In fact, when I was later faced with what I'd been peeved at in the first place, I was caught off guard and had to remember to be peeved again.

And then tonight, I was super tired. I guess the itis hit me from chowing down on a heap of pasta before practice. But heck, we started running and passing and digging and hitting and man, I forgot I was tired. In fact, despite the vigorous practice we had tonight (good job, ladies!) I left the gym with more energy than I'd had going in.

This is why I could never give it up. I admit, I tried to cut back a lot over the last two years, trying to discover what life was like (with someone) outside of volleyball, and yet, I still couldn't just give it up completely. If an entire week went by without volleyball, I'd survive, but I'd know something was missing. It's a part of me. I can't deny it. And I never will.

The sound of silence

Sitting in a very quiet house, you only want to do very quiet things. TV and video games are definitely out; even the tapping of the keys sounds too loud.

I woke up fairly early this morning and managed not to fall right back to sleep. My eye popped open and that was that. But not having much on my agenda, I refused to get out of bed and instead started re-reading my blog. Man, I used to write so much. I guess I still do, but it just seemed so condensed before.

I read and remembered the good, the bad, and the wonderful. I laughed out loud, I cried a little, and I skipped a few entries because I didn't know what to think of them anymore. 2 hours later, I consented to climbing out from under the covers to face the day. Not always the most pleasant chore.

I got up, took a shower, ate, cleaned up a little, and then flopped back onto the couch to do very little. I told you, it's been a quiet house.
...

On a side note.

If (heaven forbid) I should die anytime soon, please do not start a FB page for me using the acronym "R.I.P." anywhere on it. You may wish me to rest in peace, but please do not do so using those letters. It feels like I'd be turned into a haunted soul who wanders near my tombstone bearing those letters at night. I dunno. Maybe that's just how I feel.

No offence to anyone who's already got that on their page...

meh

Today is a comfort food sort of day. So far I've ingested mom's Chinese meatloaf, and just noticed some noodles with beef and oyster sauce in the fridge. I know what's next!

Last night, for the sake of sharing stories because I had nothing original of my own, I finally finished all that I had written while across the ocean in Europe. Feel free to click on the label and catch-up. Sorry to keep you waiting. I know how much that sucks.

Hearing things

She hears a car pull slowly onto the street outside. She hears the dull thud of a car door opening and closing. She waits to hear the footsteps up the wooden steps to her side porch. She waits to hear the knock. They don't come.

She gets up to look outside. Perhaps her visitor is hesitant? Waylaid by the unshovelled snow?

No one is outside of her house. She sees her neighbour's front door slowly swinging closed.

She goes back to the computer to stare blankly at the screen like she was doing before. She doesn't cry.

Awaiting the Cliché

There's nothing wrong with a little love cliché. The flowers, the love letters, the mixed tapes, the midnight rendezvous, the long-awaited apology. The worst is when it happens on TV or in the movies and you're forced to throw popcorn at the screen. The best is when it happens in real life and you melt into his arms and know you're the luckiest girl on earth.

In the middle is when you're kept waiting to see if it will ever happen to you, refusing to believe that it won't, but finding that you're still waiting.

Slips

    "Does he even know about me at all?"
    "No. I mean, yes."
...

I'd like to think that if someone really wants something, they'll move mountains to make it happen. You know, like move across the world.
...

It figures. Just as everyone falls in, I fall out. I worked so hard, fought so many, gave up so much, and just as it finally comes to fruition, I'm the one that fails.

I've been told time and again that I should take up teaching or this or that because I have so much patience. So much patience and a demeanor that doesn't drive people away, but encourages them to stay and keep at it. That doesn't put pressure on perfection, only personal accomplishment. And you know what? They're right. I do have a lot of patience, but even I have to admit, that as much patience as I may have, I too, have a breaking point.
...

This past Friday, I organized a cousins' night. I organized a cousins' night, and invited an AWOL favourite uncle to be the special guest. I haven't laughed so hard and so uninhibitedly in a very long time.

Soul food drink

I'd been drinking wine, stuffing myself full of greasy goodness, and watching movie after movie with a class-act couple of gals since 3pm this afternoon. We finished up right around midnight. In order to feed ourselves midway through this wallowing-allowed day, we had to ask my dad to drive our inebriated selves to the grocery store. Spectacular. But sometimes you just need those kinds of days. I know I did.

Wha'happened?

Between then and now, stuff happened.

I gave Jenny to my mom to use. I have since then acquired a temporary laptop to use until I get my act together and (get a job) and buy a new one. I have not yet decided to name this one.

Another of my friends got engaged.

The cat now refuses to drink out of his water dish. Instead, he prefers to drink dripping water out of the bathtub faucet. Whenever either of us goes to take a shower, he dashes in there to lap up the last drizzles after we turn the tap off. Because of this, sometimes we have to let the faucet drip for a bit when we get home so that he's not dehydrated. Stupid cat. I love him.

That Thundering Chicken friend of mine decided that he rather likes the CrazyBF and has since stayed over a few times this holiday to play video games with him until 7:30am. Watching them play, I have added the following words to my vocabulary if not to refer to Halo ODST, then just for my sheer amusement: Splooge gun, killtocity, and killionaire.

I am the proud owner of my very own Sackman (see Little Big Planet).

The Boos retired their 11-year old Christmas tree this year.

I bought winter tires for the first time in my driving career, and they have yet to be tested on any snow.

Another friend of mine bought a house.

I've realized that some people do grow up, some people never grow up, and some people stay the same. No matter what they do, some people you feel sorry for, some you start to like a little more, and some you love regardless.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

    --William Ernest Henley
...

I saw the movie of the same name tonight. It was...okay. If I liked it, I liked the two halves of it separately. I'm not going to say that Clint Eastwood is a bad director, but his last two have yet to impress me.

During the movie, I was distracted a few times.

*whack* (from the left)

    "Don't scratch!"
    "Ow! Okay!"

*whack* (from the right)

    "Don't bite your nail!"
    "Ow! Okay!"

It's because they care, right?

How many to fix a CO monitor?

The late hours were flying by as we lounged on the couches and caught up. It wasn't until well after midnight when we heard it.

*beep*

    "What was that?"

*beep*

    "Oh, it's the carbon monoxide alarm upstairs."

*beep*

    "Why is it beeping?"

*beep*

    "I don't know. It's not out of battery because it's wired into the house's electricity, and I don't think we're emitting that much CO--it just does that from time to time. Sometimes if I open the window up there, it helps."

*beep*

And so a window was open and some time was let to pass.

*beep*

    "It's still beeping."

*beep*

    "Feel free to go up and take a look. I've never been able to figure it out, and all the house builders can't seem to remember who put it there in the first place."

*beep*

And so, one left to investigate.

*beep beep beep*

    "I'm trying something!"

*beep beep beep*

    "Is there a better chair I can stand on?"

*beep beep beep*

    "Can someone pull up the manual off the internet for this thing?"

*beep beep beep*

    "I need a screwdriver!"

*beep beep beep*

Two Engineers, an Honours BA, and 2 MBAs later, TC just ripped that thing from the ceiling.

    "I feel better now."

And so, our catching up resumed sans beeping carbon monoxide alarm.