i see you baby
shaking that ass

.
earlier




31-year-old female, caucasion, cause of death: whoring

i dislike the layout of this here blog
i could change it
make it pretty
arty, even.

i am cold
so very cold
i am wearing a fuzzy hat
lavender and french canadian
it has lost all shape and the fuzz
is fast becoming matted.
a wee edge of my heart will break
when this hat, like most things dear,
makes it's exodus.

my mouse hand is freezing
to the touch
looks like a corpse claw.
chipped red nailpolish
let's be specific
like a dead hooker's southpaw
i've never seen a dead hooker,
but i imagine her hand would look like
mine does right now.

the face of my phone
has a flashing heart
tacky
funny

oh yeah?
you want a piece of me?
fine.
take it.

.




earlier still




had a good sleep.
after a while, wound up having a great day at work.
had to put out some fires...
disgruntled folks from sea to shining sea.
things are bubbling beneath the surface in the office
who knows what will come of it...
likely nothing - still, it's nice to be nominated.

i hosted "band" practice at my place.
typical birds in a nest...
took several bottles of wine,
divulging our preferred sexual roles -
(one dom, one sub, two who like to mix it up)
and a game of six degrees of separation
before we got down to bidness.
part of my campaign to be a "funner" person.
i don't know. i really don't know.
perhaps i should stick to lusting after musicians
rather than emulating them.

i want to buy a dress.
its just such a girlie thing to do.
dress shopping.

nearly out of my sample of stella
a perfume that simply drives me wild

lined up at the fido shop for a whole 10 minutes
before leaving in a huff
it is always packed in there.
my phone is making odd noises
but i will have to gather my patience if i want it fixed.

i fell asleep on the skytrain this morning.
had a rough night.
went to sleep at nine pm,
but was troubled by half-waking anxiety.

woke at six this morning,
totally exhausted.

i look like a sack of shit.
i've been indulging in a bit of
appearance insecurity as of late.
don't know what it is...
i try not to get too wrapped up in that shit.
i do believe that what you lack in attributes,
you can make up with enthusiasm.
yet the past while - well, blah blah blah.

disorganization is creeping in.
on the plus side - i am feeling a real urge
to clean and tidy.
this could work out well.

in a week i will be unemployed.
i'm fairly confident my contract will be
renewed for next season.
but, if i'm not asked back...

i need to go on a trip.
a reprieve from this city is needed.
don't women my age go away for the weekend?
on TV they do.
something about trips up to Amish country
and bed and breakfasts.
mind you, in bc that would be a drive to abbotsford.
what do happy people do here?
i guess drive down the coast? go to vegas?

i gave in and bought a pack of cigarettes.
i don't regret it one bit.
smoking in the sun before i came into work
was delicious.

AND things are looking up!
between the time i started writing
this mopey post and now -
someone uploaded some full-on porn to zed.
it's a little long and dull -
as most 30 minute blowjobs tend to be.
but for some reason i am cheered.

an exhausting, yet gorgeous sunday.
i must come into some patience,
sooner rather than later is preferable.

went to a flea market today and picked up
a nifty framed photo of marilyn monroe.
now, i know that sounds cheesy -
but it's quite lovely and an uncommon photo at that.

im at work.
i have a very narrow time frame
in which to complete my errands.

pms hurts.

i would love some indian food right now.
which reminds me,
my bus driver was an incredibly attractive
indian man.
great sunglasses and nice calves to boot.

clothes are all tight.
bra can barely contain the action.

pms hurts.
yeah.
it fuckin' hurts.

filmed the last feedback friday episode for zed today.
it was nice to see sharon again.
it is growing late.
i am at work.
i want to get the heck-fire out of here
and move on to greener pastures!
it's friday night fer chrissakes.

i have been invited to three different outings.
popular me!
looking forward to tonight's festivities...

i suppose i shouldnt complain.
my contract ends in a few short days,
and then i will be pining for zed.

pine, i say. pine.

confession: i am addicted to two terrible pop songs.
blackeyed peas: hey mama and britney spears: toxic.
i mean, really really addicted.

it just keeps getting worse.
belle de jour has, for all intents and purposes,
been outed.
read this.

fucking sarah champion!
i mean i figured the whore was a writer,
trying to dumb it down enough to appear legit,
but, sarah champion?

now, of course this is uncomfirmed.
but everyone trusts the post.
and everyone seems content to believe it's champion.

on sunday night i watched the BBC film "the last king"
for four hours i was in heaven!
i love shit like this.
rufus sewell is gorgeous as charles II,
who was infamous for his womanizing and other stuff -
like dissolving parliament, founding the royal hospital for veterans,
naming new york, etc etc etc.
but let's get back to the fun!
he sired 14 illegitimate children from different mistresses.
he knew how to have a good time, that one.
oh, what fun it would have been to lift your skirts for such a monarch.
sigh, ever suspect you've missed your calling?

sweet mother of pearl!
mention angele yanor in your blog
and watch your traffic skyrocket.
jesus, apparently there truly is no bad press.

it's moondae night.
i ate a subway wrap and i feel ill.
skipped out on an engagement i should have attended.
feeling guilty and stressed about it.
but truth be told, physically - i just wasn't up to it.

did a bit of laundry last night.
hating every item of clothing i own.
check that.
i hate the way my clothes look on me.
seasons are changing and everyone looks
so fresh and lovely.
i feel tattered and worn through.

still must acquire:
-audio equipment
-computer
-full-length mirror
-brita water filter
-proper blanket (i miss my duvet!)
-microwave

starting over can be so inconvenient.

but i have a phone - that never rings.
but, its a start.
but but but

i suppose i should write about someting of some import here...
ah fuck it. why should i?
loads of others are writing interesting things.

"I'll wager her new marriage
should suffice as her present charade...
give it three years as well,
with a whimpered Dear John e-mail sent to
hubby when he confronts her with questions
about cheating ;-)"

Posted by: pokerface at March 19, 2004 07:10 PM

now - everyone is writing about this
and i find as i type this post.
i'm already losing interest.
yet i too, enjoy a little old-fashioned vindictiveness.
and i'm sure as hell not above this sort of thing,
so i will also take a pass at this.

pokerface is referring to the Vancouver columnist/single
girl-about-town, Angèle Yanor.
seems Yanor's given up both titles rather abruptly.

many would argue that Yanor's contribution to the Sun could hardly be called journalism,
in fact, Yanor herself agrees.
after sloppily plagiarizing the NY Times,
and getting caught,
Yanor defended herself with the following post on angeleyanor.com

"For the record, I have never called myself a journalist.
I write chick lit. My articles have always had
an element of fiction. Most of my readers accepted this.
To make sweeping comparisons of
journalistic plagiarism seems a bit unfair."

the Sun claims they fired Yanor over the debacle,
but Angèle says she quit because of her recent marriage.
it would be dishonest for the blushing bride
to write a singles column.

Yanor rec'd a lot of attention in this town.
she got into all the right parties.
writers everywhere bristled at her name,
but still dropped it whenever they needed to.

her writing was dreck and stolen dreck at that.
let's all do our little victory dance and move on.
i love a happy ending too,
but let's not give old Lucky Strike too much of a send off.

anyone know what Suzy Wall's been up to lately?

a fellow zedder Weston and yours truly,
the night of zed uncut


saturday night.
looking forward to a meal of kraft dinner and salsa.
can i stay awake until SNL?
only time will tell.

feeling anxious.
ate crap food today.
did none of the things i planned.
very little willpower.
perhaps anxious is incorrect.
unsure is more accurate,

ran into a friend today.
turns out we are neighbours.
she looked great.
i did not.
what does one have to do with the other?
nothing.
she invited me to a party.
i can't go.
but i look forward to hooking up with her.

next week i will have a housewarming.
i should be able to fit at least 12 souls in my apt.
if i only invite media folks -
i should be able to fit at least 50 people.
ba dum dum.
that's right folks, i'm here all week.

dressed a little too slutty for work today.
the slit is too high in this skirt.
forcing me to readjust constantly.
i've grown unaccustomed to heels
and red lipstick is very high maintenance.

life's hard.

gah!
what an end to a shitty day.
last week i sent out a company email to 400 people.
thing is - i didn't BCC it - i entered all the addresses into the "to:" field.
you see, this sort of thing doesn't exactly jive with the cbc privacy policy.
within moments i had dozens of irate emails from whiney sucky people -
who had every right to be annoyed - but come on people!
get a fucking grip - it's an email sent out to a bunch of cbc nerds.
pretty safe group.

anyhoo, i immediately sent out an on-my-knees-bend-me-over-and-give-it-to-me email,
apologizing profusely.
that's when folks smelled blood in the water.
these "concerned citizens" started emailing trying to get free shit out of me.
to make matters worse, one of the people in the email list started spamming the group.
i had to then email them and beg them to stop.
this combined with preparations for our live episode, not to mention my mess of a life...
well, its a miracle i'm still alive!

yeah, so that was a week ago.
today, i find out that one of my "victims" complained to the cbc privacy office,
who in turn, contacted my boss.
he was really cool about it - but still, it sucks.

this day has been shitty for a myriad of reasons.
none of them tangible, really.

positive note: i returned my $120 skirt to club monaco. i will be able to eat this week.
but, damn. it was a nice skirt.
really, there is no nobility in poverty.
at least not with me.

i should go home now.
misery deserves company.
i guess i could go teach my bird some curse words.

it's sunday,
and i promised i would have nicer things to say.
i do, you know.
the weather was beautiful all weekend.
i went to the beach last night,
and liked it soooo much - that i returned today.
imagine. me on a beach.
in the daylight. bizarre.

i have a telephone.
once again, i feel like a citizen.
it is quite humiliating telling people you don't have a phone.
not to mention i was growing tired of hovering over the payphones
at the local community centre.
i'm sure i came off as a bit of an unsavoury character -
cursing the heavens and everything beneath them for my miserable lot in life,
all the while, violently cramming quarters into the slot.
but, i'm much better now.

i am worried about the people i care most for.
it seems like no one i know can get a break.
i wish to hell i could do something to help.
but i cant - and i doubt my help would be all that welcome.
tis in the nature of the humans involved, doncha know.
a simpler way to say it would be - human nature, i guess.
my prose is flowery today.
that is to say my words are wanking.

it is hard when a nuturer like myself has to show restraint.

went to see the lost skeleton of cadavra
it was shockingly terrible.
for some reason that worked for me

it's friday night.
i have been invited to karaoke.
i declined the invitation - i have more important things to do tonight.
that, and karaoke scares the shit out of me.
i love to watch, but i fear for myself.
i hate being pressured into making an ass out of myself.
i imagine karaoke pressure is similar to shooter pressure.
you know, when someone buys you a platter of shooters.
you feel guilty because they spent the money,
and they go on and on and on until you feel so trapped
you find yourself guzzling blowjobs and china whites using only your mouth.

tomorrow i will meet my sister downtown for celticfest
there will be a parade and plenty of opportunity to spend money i do not possess.

i wrapped up my drum playing stint today.
despite myself, i have to admit i had fun.
i would like to learn to play properly.
i would like a groupie.

feeling a bit of depression seeping in.
things don't feel all that right.
i am worried and tired.
i feel like sleeping for hours and hours.

feeling tired and haggish.
check that - looking tired and haggish.

i feel old.
spring brings out so many fresh looking young things.
i try not to hate them.
ok, i maybe i don't try all that hard.

oh boo fucking hoo.

sunday, i will have nicer things to say.

i have a bird.
i do not like her.
her name is millie.
i feel sorry for her,
dumped into the trainwreck that is my life.
i will go home and hold her,
because i have to - for her sake.

tomorrow i will play drums.
on national television.
funny strange or funny ha ha?
who knows.

people are spiraling around me.
can't seem to help anyone.
talk of parasites frustrates and upsets me.
shouldn't surf the internet these days.

i rarely slush anymore.
terrible.
i no longer have a computer at home...
i mention this daily - so get used to it.

so, what do you think about love?
i think about it often lately.
i have developed a theory.
well more of an over-thought observation.
i think that once you tell someone you love them,
you begin to convince yourself that it is so.
that by saying the words - you make it real.
because once you tell someone you love them -
and they return your affections,
you start saying it all the time...
you feel compelled to say it.
and so you convince yourself and your victim that this thought that
was only rattling around in your head, perhaps moments previous,
is the real deal.

now, im not saying this is a bad thing.
just interesting.
what if you never say it?
and how often is love declared out of a misplaced sense of duty,
or more sweetly, when you feel a gush of affection you can't contain?
but, then again...what's the big deal?
i love many people.
it doesn't change much.

i have been remembering the first time i told a fellow i loved him.
it seemed such a heavy thing.
like signing a contract. grave. important.
frightening.

i wonder if i still feel the same way?

isn't it funny how when times are tough,
every song you hear seems to be about you?
i'm a bit of a lyric monger.
even the most crap radio song can get to me if i pay close attention to the lyrics.
as i have no stereo, i've resorted to muchmusic.
honestly, i prefer muchmore music.
i am into my adult easy listening phase, i guess.
i never used to watch music videos.
now i find myself enthralled.
every video is a nifty little short story.
some terrible - okay most of them are fucking awful.
but, i find i am fast becoming addicted.

moving day

i have no computer.
i have no telephone.
my cable only reaches channel 34.
strange ways here we come.

settling into my new neighbourhood nicely, thank you very much.
it is so convenient and ridiculously easy to spend money.
there are so many restaurants i want to hit.
not to mention i live right beside a beauty mark.

went for a stroll on saturday night.
the west end is couple central.
so many linked arms and darling duo hijinks.

when im on my own, i am really on my own.
strange.
have to learn to get along with myself.
but i can be so frightfully tedious and dull.
do you know what i mean?
of course you do.