...Or Is It Just Me?
Picture this: You climb into your PJs and crawl into bed with a book. You've got some soothing background music playing on your stereo and your new reading light is just right for long stretches of textual intake. So you plow through the 60-70 pages of the slowest short story ever, but by about page 66, you pass out. Waking up the next morning, you find your reading light turned off, your sterero turned off, your book closed and on your bedside table, you safely tucked away under your covers, but your PJ shirt on the pillows next to you. Does this ever happen to you? It happened to me last night/this morning. Any explanations are welcome...mine has something to do with elves, though I'm not sure if they're the same ones that deal with my shoes...
Monday, November 10, 2003
Song of the Moment: "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" - Nancy Sinatra
I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang he shot me down
Bang bang I hit the ground
Bang bang that awful sound
Bang bang my baby shot me down
Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
Remember when we used to play
Bang bang I shot you down
Bang bang you hit the ground
Bang bang that awful sound
Bang bang I used to shoot you down
Music played and people sang
Just for me the church bells rang
Now he's gone I don't know why
And till this day sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie
Bang bang he shot me down
Bang bang I hit the ground
Bang bang that awful sound
Bang bang my baby shot me down
I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang he shot me down
Bang bang I hit the ground
Bang bang that awful sound
Bang bang my baby shot me down
Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
Remember when we used to play
Bang bang I shot you down
Bang bang you hit the ground
Bang bang that awful sound
Bang bang I used to shoot you down
Music played and people sang
Just for me the church bells rang
Now he's gone I don't know why
And till this day sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie
Bang bang he shot me down
Bang bang I hit the ground
Bang bang that awful sound
Bang bang my baby shot me down
Saturday, November 08, 2003
Thursday, November 06, 2003
Love Actually...
Despite the fact of it being opening day for The Matrix: Revolutions, I actually sat nearly by myself and watched Love Actually instead and discovered it to be my new favourite movie (Sorry Shrek, Nemo, and you Goonies, this one was pretty good). It was just one of those movies that just...clicked with me. Not everyone falls in love, not everyone has the perfect life, and not everyone gets what they want, but there was just SO MUCH LOVE in this movie that it didn't matter. I love Love: it makes me feel all warm and squishy inside--when it's not making me feel lonely and miserable, that is.
love rocks on
love is elementary
love american style
love unspoken
love at work
love and politics
love as a second language
love is awkward
love lasts a lifetime
everyone needs to fall in love at least once...
Despite the fact of it being opening day for The Matrix: Revolutions, I actually sat nearly by myself and watched Love Actually instead and discovered it to be my new favourite movie (Sorry Shrek, Nemo, and you Goonies, this one was pretty good). It was just one of those movies that just...clicked with me. Not everyone falls in love, not everyone has the perfect life, and not everyone gets what they want, but there was just SO MUCH LOVE in this movie that it didn't matter. I love Love: it makes me feel all warm and squishy inside--when it's not making me feel lonely and miserable, that is.
love rocks on
love is elementary
love american style
love unspoken
love at work
love and politics
love as a second language
love is awkward
love lasts a lifetime
everyone needs to fall in love at least once...
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
SPOON!!!
I'm feelin' a little lonely right about now. I think life is getting to me. I need some time. I need a break. I need some extra love. I need a comfortable silence. I need...a lot of things...
Just talkin' to Squiggly about how nice it is to be able to snuggle up to someone and sleep for a good while. A little comfy spooning with some soothing bedtime talking would do the trick. Will someone just come and take care of me right now? I want to be treated like the big baby that I'm feeling like at this moment. I rarely admit to needing things done for me, but I could really go for some serious princess treatment. Some cuddling, coddling, cooing, and I'll feel much better. I really need a spoon. *sigh* Need you really be so far away from me?
I'm feelin' a little lonely right about now. I think life is getting to me. I need some time. I need a break. I need some extra love. I need a comfortable silence. I need...a lot of things...
Just talkin' to Squiggly about how nice it is to be able to snuggle up to someone and sleep for a good while. A little comfy spooning with some soothing bedtime talking would do the trick. Will someone just come and take care of me right now? I want to be treated like the big baby that I'm feeling like at this moment. I rarely admit to needing things done for me, but I could really go for some serious princess treatment. Some cuddling, coddling, cooing, and I'll feel much better. I really need a spoon. *sigh* Need you really be so far away from me?
Monday, November 03, 2003
A Moment of Egomania
I've decided today (though I permit myself the chance to change my mind later) that I love my height. I am the perfect height. I am slightly taller than average, allowing me to be tall enough to look down upon many around me. I am tall enough to tower above other girls of my age and ethnicity. I'm tall enough to be a threat on the courts. I'm tall enough to see over the steering wheel when I drive. I'm tall enough to be intimidating to most men out to pick up at the clubs. However at the same time, I'm short enough to be able to find pants that fit me. I'm short enough to be able to be cute and cuddly once in a while. I'm short enough to wear four-inch heels yet still be shorter than my man. I'm not too tall, but I'm not too short--I am the perfect height. I love my height. I also have great hair. I am awesome.
...
Test Drive Females! Female Test Drivers!
I'm in! I'm in! It is a great idea--the fact that Squiggly is just totally using me for my femininity to con salesmen into letting him test drive wicked-cool cars makes no difference to me at all; I wanna drive those cars too! SwEEEEt. Even if Squiggly was the only one to get to drive, I'd be fine with that--Squiggly is one sick driver! Our original plan was to dress casually rich, but with some subtle yet eyecatching *bling* accessories (*blang* is just tacky) and meet up in Waterloo to dealership-hop out there. BMW, Mini Cooper, Honda, and Volvo, all within a stone's throw from each other. If not there, then maybe up Kennedy in Markham. Either way, it's all good; I'd cling to Squiggly's arm for a day for a ride in a Mini. :) I think this is a great thing Squiggly's stumbled upon. A great thing I think I should try to capitalize on...
...anyone looking for a feminine counterpart with whom to convince dealerships to hand you keys to their nicest cars--I'm riiiiight here. I appreciate these cars, I know how to smooth talk these salespeople--who else would you want to go with? Besides, as Squiggly pointed out, I drive stick. :D
I've decided today (though I permit myself the chance to change my mind later) that I love my height. I am the perfect height. I am slightly taller than average, allowing me to be tall enough to look down upon many around me. I am tall enough to tower above other girls of my age and ethnicity. I'm tall enough to be a threat on the courts. I'm tall enough to see over the steering wheel when I drive. I'm tall enough to be intimidating to most men out to pick up at the clubs. However at the same time, I'm short enough to be able to find pants that fit me. I'm short enough to be able to be cute and cuddly once in a while. I'm short enough to wear four-inch heels yet still be shorter than my man. I'm not too tall, but I'm not too short--I am the perfect height. I love my height. I also have great hair. I am awesome.
...
"Great idea! Go test drive cars together sometime. More likely to let 'couples' test drive. We both drive stick. It'd be awesome!"
--Squiggly, in a text message to me the other day
I'm in! I'm in! It is a great idea--the fact that Squiggly is just totally using me for my femininity to con salesmen into letting him test drive wicked-cool cars makes no difference to me at all; I wanna drive those cars too! SwEEEEt. Even if Squiggly was the only one to get to drive, I'd be fine with that--Squiggly is one sick driver! Our original plan was to dress casually rich, but with some subtle yet eyecatching *bling* accessories (*blang* is just tacky) and meet up in Waterloo to dealership-hop out there. BMW, Mini Cooper, Honda, and Volvo, all within a stone's throw from each other. If not there, then maybe up Kennedy in Markham. Either way, it's all good; I'd cling to Squiggly's arm for a day for a ride in a Mini. :) I think this is a great thing Squiggly's stumbled upon. A great thing I think I should try to capitalize on...
...anyone looking for a feminine counterpart with whom to convince dealerships to hand you keys to their nicest cars--I'm riiiiight here. I appreciate these cars, I know how to smooth talk these salespeople--who else would you want to go with? Besides, as Squiggly pointed out, I drive stick. :D
...But The Last One Was Just Right...
The Imaginus Poster sale arrived at the Meeting Place today. I wandered through the displays and came to the saddening realization that my room contains too little wall space. :(
Some of the stuff they have is really cool, but too fantastical for my tastes. And there are the abstract pieces that take me back to my anti-abstract-art conversation with Jean not too long ago when we decided that some of that stuff just shouldn't be allowed. Then there are those supposedly inspirational photos of beautiful scenes or amazing feats accompanied by the motivational phrase along the bottom ("There is no 'I' in 'team'"); those just don't do it for me. And then I have beef with purchasing movie posters: someone originally acquired them all for free, so why should I be paying (however, the movie scene shots aren't too bad, just so hard to pick from!)? That leaves the celebrity glossy photos (too commercial), the Anne Geddes et al. pieces (too cutesy), the cartoons (too girly), the animal collages (too cuddly), the half-naked model shots (too envy-inspiring), and the credo-lists (too categorical--although I allow the Fight Club rules to serve as the only exception).
Despite all of those exclusions from my personal tastes there are still hoardes of posters left to choose from--something I couldn't do. I wish I could've brought a personal consultant to select or create one poster specifically to fill the empty space of wall in my room. That's a tough job though. Of my friends and family, I would trust very few with that task. As a list, I think they'd be dad, Tobias, Jean, Q, and V-Jai; the artists of my life. Hurry up guys...the sale ends 5pm tomorrow, although I will accept personal submissions after this date... :p
...
On a random tangent, my shoes have been disappearing lately. Pair by pair (granted, I've ony seemed to have lost two pairs so far) I've tried to wear, and pair by pair they've mysteriously gone missing. It all started when Senorita asked to borrow my black sandals for her cousin's wedding. For two weeks I've been looking for those shoes, and for two weeks, I've come up empty-handed. I swear I've checked everywhere. I even checked both of the cars--even hun-Gee's cars--but no sign of them. I've written of their disappearance to the fact that I probably lent those sandals to a girlfriend and forgot to re-claim them after a while. But today, I discovered that yet another pair of shoes went missing. I mean, the ones I lost today were just a crusty old pair of runners, but still, where did they go? I tore apart the upstairs and downstairs closets this morning looking for those shoes. I opened every shoe box and storage bin I came across, whether or not it seemed to have anything in it. Quite frustrating to find absolutely nothing, let me tell you. Mom usually charges a dollar for her to find anything for you in the house. By then I was ready to pay her $20 to find my shoes. But, I don't think she'd be able to find them either. So far, throughout my whole ordeal, she hasn't offered to help at all--sure she's suggested places for me to look, but actual help. That's why I came up with my theory: she's in on it. She may not have taken them, but she's in on it. :p I'm going to have to take an inventory of all my shoes tonight, and move them all to a safer place. I could be overreacting of course, but I can't afford to lose anymore shoes--losing shoes means I'll have to buy new ones and I can't afford that.
Quote of the Moment:
"I seem to have misplaced my pants."
--Homer Simpson, The Simpsons
The Imaginus Poster sale arrived at the Meeting Place today. I wandered through the displays and came to the saddening realization that my room contains too little wall space. :(
Some of the stuff they have is really cool, but too fantastical for my tastes. And there are the abstract pieces that take me back to my anti-abstract-art conversation with Jean not too long ago when we decided that some of that stuff just shouldn't be allowed. Then there are those supposedly inspirational photos of beautiful scenes or amazing feats accompanied by the motivational phrase along the bottom ("There is no 'I' in 'team'"); those just don't do it for me. And then I have beef with purchasing movie posters: someone originally acquired them all for free, so why should I be paying (however, the movie scene shots aren't too bad, just so hard to pick from!)? That leaves the celebrity glossy photos (too commercial), the Anne Geddes et al. pieces (too cutesy), the cartoons (too girly), the animal collages (too cuddly), the half-naked model shots (too envy-inspiring), and the credo-lists (too categorical--although I allow the Fight Club rules to serve as the only exception).
Despite all of those exclusions from my personal tastes there are still hoardes of posters left to choose from--something I couldn't do. I wish I could've brought a personal consultant to select or create one poster specifically to fill the empty space of wall in my room. That's a tough job though. Of my friends and family, I would trust very few with that task. As a list, I think they'd be dad, Tobias, Jean, Q, and V-Jai; the artists of my life. Hurry up guys...the sale ends 5pm tomorrow, although I will accept personal submissions after this date... :p
...
On a random tangent, my shoes have been disappearing lately. Pair by pair (granted, I've ony seemed to have lost two pairs so far) I've tried to wear, and pair by pair they've mysteriously gone missing. It all started when Senorita asked to borrow my black sandals for her cousin's wedding. For two weeks I've been looking for those shoes, and for two weeks, I've come up empty-handed. I swear I've checked everywhere. I even checked both of the cars--even hun-Gee's cars--but no sign of them. I've written of their disappearance to the fact that I probably lent those sandals to a girlfriend and forgot to re-claim them after a while. But today, I discovered that yet another pair of shoes went missing. I mean, the ones I lost today were just a crusty old pair of runners, but still, where did they go? I tore apart the upstairs and downstairs closets this morning looking for those shoes. I opened every shoe box and storage bin I came across, whether or not it seemed to have anything in it. Quite frustrating to find absolutely nothing, let me tell you. Mom usually charges a dollar for her to find anything for you in the house. By then I was ready to pay her $20 to find my shoes. But, I don't think she'd be able to find them either. So far, throughout my whole ordeal, she hasn't offered to help at all--sure she's suggested places for me to look, but actual help. That's why I came up with my theory: she's in on it. She may not have taken them, but she's in on it. :p I'm going to have to take an inventory of all my shoes tonight, and move them all to a safer place. I could be overreacting of course, but I can't afford to lose anymore shoes--losing shoes means I'll have to buy new ones and I can't afford that.
Quote of the Moment:
"I seem to have misplaced my pants."
--Homer Simpson, The Simpsons
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