On the other hand, I do have a nice pair of jeans coming my way. Yeah, I should look just like that, but with nicer shoes. Alls I can say is that they had better make me a man-magnet and better conversationalist.

You know, you think you know a thing or two about a thing or two...and then you find out you know shit. I'm feeling uninspired, lazy, lonely and fantastically unattractive. I came home from work and parked my ass in front of the TV for a two-hour special Trading Spouses. Good stuff, let me tell you. And so now I will go to sleep. I'm not tired and it's early, but even I'm getting bored with all this self-pity. Like an old friend used to say, "I am so confuso". I suppose I had better call her and we can prowl the town together. What's that the kids say about misery and company?

Today I chose to ignore the limitations of my Celtic hide and went a bit OTT with the indoor tanning. I felt alright until mid-day when I started to feel a bit hot and sweaty. I wore a rather low-cut top today and I vainly assumed everyone was staring at my tits. After a while, I joined in on the fun and snuck a look. I was horrified to discover a scarlet diamond seared into my cleavage. It looked like beard burn. After a quick strip down in the bathroom I was able to survey the full damage under the loving glow of flourescent lights. Turns out I scorched the bottom of my ass, my chest and my stomach. A whole new meaning to the term "pink bits". I am sure it will fade into a lovely golden glow. This way I look sunny and svelte for my melanoma diagnosis. Which reminds me, I must remember to take my Diane 35 with my morning cigarette.

It's late. I am tired. And so a token post to fill space and time:

I returned to work last week. I have been busy. There have been scheduling nightmares and personal anxieties. Suffering a bit from that early-thirties sands through the hourglass panic. I want to double my wage before I turn 40. I want to live in a home. Yes, a home. With a kitchen and a place for live foliage. I want to have dinner parties. I want to travel. I want to take care of the horrific dental work that awaits me. I want to go on a proper vacation. I want to go camping. I want to go canoeing. I want to go buy nice new sheets, a feather duvet, good pillows and - fuck it - a bed while I'm at it. I want to get my first pedicure and my second manicure. I want to have flowers delivered to me so I can pretend to hate all the attention. I want to find my best chocolate-chip cookie recipe that was lost early last year. I need to dye the grey hairs away - go a shade darker for winter. I want to find a good pair of jeans that give me an ass. I need to go get my eyes tested and pick out just the right pair of porno-librarian frames. I want to buy some art. I want to take all my excess belongings to the women's shelter - including the piles of good stuff I keep saving for the elusive skinny days. I want to learn to play the guitar and to speak German and Italian. I want to learn how to use Photoshop properly. I want to avoid obscurity as I wallow in it. I want to go to a really good party. I want to be swept off my feet. I want to try every drug I've ever heard of once (just before I die, on my deathbed will do). I want to be able to remember the titles of my favourite books/songs/political movements/etc. when I'm conversing and not after. I want to be trustworthy. I want to be desireable to some and frightening to others. I want to pay my phone bill before I get cut off. I want to learn to drive. I want to go to Seattle, stay at the Ace and buy cut flowers at the market. I want to really really enjoy a chocolate bar again. I want to go to sleep.

I want to get a dry-erase board so I can write this shit down.

Oh, and I went to see a good film today. Grey and beautiful, funny and tragic: The Return

summer holidays: sojo's tattoo (me, sojo, kristina)

Well, holy shit in shinola - it's my 233rd post since I moved to Blogger. I have no idea how many I left behind at ix.1sound.com or whatever it was called. That's a lot of sharing. Lucky duckies, each and every one of you.

The photo above shows my new haircut... oh, yeah and the lovely Sojo's pre-tattoo experience. But, back to me - unfortunately it is a marvelously unflattering photo (of me). The ladies look nice though, and it was a fun time worthy of photo documentation. And so I will not be vain and delete the fuck out of it. Know this: I do not look like that. Seriously, that jacket is puffy and my thighs are much, much thinner and I'm way smarter in person.

What, you want to hear about my day? Oh, you! I am signing another contract with ZeD, this time for a year rather than for six months. Well done, me. I also rec'd a bit of a raise. You know, on paper I'm a huge success. But, I've gone on about this before. I am happy to have my job, but it was tough returning after my brief holiday. It was so very nice to go for bike rides and out for coffees all willy-nilly-like. Oh well, at least I have a job to return to. You think the whining is bad around here now...


me and the charming ms k. - mid-bikeride

I still haven't found a new place to live - partly because I haven't looked and partly because of some other better reason that elludes me right now. I need a situation to arise. Like a kindly and stupidly rich senior citizen takes a shine to me and decides to give me a house or something like that. I'm holding out for this. Old people like me. I am very polite and sweet. In my family respecting one's elders is right up there with locking the bathroom door at all times and avoiding excess touching (unless it's Christmas or New Year's Eve - then it's open doors and familial groping galore!)

Jesus. I just caught a glimpse of myself hunched over my laptop. I must remember to never ever, ever sit in front of a mirror again. Mirrors are for posing. Body turned to the side so as to minimize full-frontal wideness, head tilted and lips licked and hair tossed just so. I need a good 2 or 3 minutes prep-time before I hit the looking glass.

I'm not really saying much here, am I? I am making Rice Krispie Treats, so I suppose I should go tend to my boiling marshmallows. I will burn CDs tonight. I'm a hardcore "mixed tape" geek.

I feel a bit more at ease knowing everyone is safe and sound. I am excited about my trip. I am not making sense.

Good night.

Listen to this and tell me what you think: elkland's apart. Yes, they sound so very much like The Cure, but is that such a bad thing. No. It is not.

So yes, I got me a haircut. I like it, but I lost some serious length. I'm aiming for full-on hair-slut status, so every inch lost wounds me. However, someone recently pointed out that I was beginning to resemble an aging Canadian writer. You know the type: Too-long hair, all frizzy and shot through with white, usually clipped back with tortoise-shell barrettes or in one massive braid down the back. An interesting aside: these women often develop an unsatiable passion for gauzy scarves and long skirts. And so, losing a few inches to avoid this fate is really not so bad.

I do believe I'm managing to shake off this recent attack of depression. I've had a pleasant past few days. It is nice to be busy and social. The worst part of coming out of a slump is having to once again deal with reality. I really really must find a new place to live. Perhaps I should get paypal and offer to do horrible embarrassing things for a few alms. You reckon any of you would throw me some chump change for new digs and the sheer joy one can take in another's humiliation? I think you could.

morose and shaggy

It is Saturday. I am getting my hair cut this morning.

I still can't shake the "po'-little-mes". I'm the worst sort of depressed person. I loathe being alone. I'm not big on it even when I'm in the most delightful of moods, but when I'm down I'm rather pathetic. My ideal way to navigate a bout of depression would be to crawl into bed with someone at my side to play with my hair and compliment me relentlessly until I feel better. There must be a service or something. There's that calm homeless dude who sits outside the Starbucks on Denman. I'm sure he wouldn't mind a bed to sleep in for a few days. Fuck, that's right. I don't have a bed.

I'm going to go flip through old issues of Cosmo to find just the right hairstyle. Cosmo girls are fun, right? They know the neatest sex moves and wear fantastically high-heeled shoes all day. They eat no food and always have the tidiest bikini areas. They are happy girls. Yes, I need Cosmos best cut for fall. I will post photos. No fooling.

Today was a bit of a failure, I'm afraid. Depression has been trying to make out with me all day. As a rule I'm a pretty easy lay so it's been a bit of a chore resisting my little black cloud's advances. I can't readily explain my foul mood. Other than the usual tit-twisters that life gleefully delivers, today has not been exceptional. I finally dropped the P from the MS - so I can't really blame hormones. Alls I know is that I would like to close my dusty and ill-fitting venetian blinds and sink into my sofa bed, rising only to replenish and relieve myself of gallons of filtered water. It only sounds glamorous because it is.

Funniest jingle I have in my head right now: "Tim Horton's for the seafood lover in you."

For some reason I have substituted Tim Hortons for Red Lobster. I've been singing it all day without realizing my mistake. As I turned down my bed I found myself crooning the fucking jingle again and realized how I had screwed up the "lyrics". I am very funny. A riot, really.

Tomorrow/today I need to do something fun, entertaining and summer holiday-ish. It's my very last day of holidays until forever from now. It's on, baby.

Quick update: I still would like to become very rich in a manner that requires very little real effort from my camp. I am pretty sure success, wealth and fame would be super flattering for me.

Cuddle Parties

Why am I always the last to know? As usual I am months behind what I'm sure real hipsters have already started to declare so fucking over. Forget cool kid Scrabble nights, nowadays bored Generation- blah, blah blahs actually pay $30 a crack to cuddle with strangers. This is supposed to be a non-sexual experience. Lot's of spooning, snuggling and PG-13 fondling. There is a list of rules and apparently there is also a little bell that can be tinkled if things get out of hand.

Horrifying and appealing in such a sick way. People assume I don't like to be touched. Just because I wear a sour expression and cringe when I sense you exchange air or feel the heat emanating from your body, doesn't mean I don't want you to lay hands on me. Look closer, I swear my body is saying "No, no - God, no!" but my left eye pleads "touch me, touch me now."

Since this is a just barely waning trend in the US, it's time to strike it up in Canada. I am so totally going to plan a spoon theme party. Of course all the guests will have to braid my hair and serve me shots of Amaretto in lieu of any cover charge. I reckon we can do away with a list of rules and instead adhere to a few common sensical guidelines. Hard-ons are not encouraged, but certain exceptions can and will be made.

It's been a busy productive couple of days. Enjoyable too, which is probably why I haven't slushed much. My holidays are turning out to be rather fun and relaxing. Weird, huh?

Don't worry lovers. I'm certain the other shoe will drop soon and I'll be productively miserable in short order. And if not, well remember I am on holidays.

Okay, this chick is an absolute whore for the rawk stars. I...think I might love her.

Sweetness.

Air crickets air crickets air crickets air crickets air

I am an asshole, you see. I have been a day behind all this week. I thought yesterday was Thursday and so I missed the Conan O'brien special I wanted to see. I lose. At least I'm consistent.

I had a lovely day yesterday. I went cycling around the seawall and spent some time sunning and getting splashed by big cool waves. The ocean still fascinates me. Growing up on the prairies wavy water meant major storms. Not the sort of weather you want to be out standing on a shore in. Yesterday, standing on sun-warmed rocks and being buffeted by salt water made me happy. And not even in a corny way, so there. There was this amazing fellow fishing on the seawall who looked so much like his name must be Rocco that it would ruin things for me to ever discover otherwise. It was hard to tell his age because he was so tanned, but I would guess he was anywhere from 45 - 65 years old and he was positively majestic. Standing at one of the most visible vantage points of the wall wearing wee speedos and covered in salve - he reminded me of some sort of Roman warrior. Huge potbelly be damned - he was a sight to behold. Though from a distance he did resemble a glazed Thanksgiving turkey more than a gladiator.

Today is Saturday. I feel the urge to do something. Hopefully I will.

Wow, Kilborn quit. I've always been much more of a Conan fan, but Kilborn was starting to grow on me. Speaking of Conan - tonight's show is going to be grrrreat. Shot like an infomercial, I'm told. I will watch it - and this time not just because I have nothing better to do.

So, I did it. I went out with friends. I had a nice time. We went for drinks and then rented some movies and ordered in Chinese food. Now it is nearly three in the morning and the pot I smoked is wearing off. Walking home from my friend's home, I realized of the five of us who had gotten together, I was the only one going home to a shitty, small and empty one bedroom. I hate sleeping alone. I want to get the fuck out of here. To make matters worse, I can hear my neighbours fucking as I type this. Gawd, how very depressing.

PRADA, PRADA SPORT, MIU MIU SAMPLE SALE
THE FULLER BUILDING
57th Street and Madison Avenue, 2nd Floor
August 16 - August 27 OPEN WEEKDAYS ONLY
Appointments on the hour 9AM - 7PM. The registers close at 8PM.

Why, oh why can't I be going to NYC now? Why am I not rich enough or lucky enough to be attending a by-appointment-only shopping event? More importantly, why can't I leave my apartment?

Equal parts squirm-in-your-seat embarrassing and spiteful fun - this just in from The Source for Youth Ministry:

Did he just say "Off the heezy my nephew?" What the heck does that mean? Glad you asked.


Okay, so it was fun reading the lingo - but the warning pleased me more.


This teen lingo represents today's culture and many of the problems that go along with it. Although much of it is humorous, a good portion of it is very offensive. Many of the words are terms for sexual activity and drug use. Many of the examples given are common quotes from youth today- these quotes, although somewhat edited, can be foul or vile (sadly, all the below phrases can be said in a PG movie). I believe this dictionary has educational value in helping youth workers understand teen mentality and culture, but please do use discretion.

Justin and Cammy are getting married. Two boring blondes planning a celebrity wedding hardly seems worth the keystrokes. Now all we can do is wait for her to get knocked up so we can grudgingly admire her baby-producing glow and congratulate her with being so okay with packing on weight. We'll have to listen to her gush over her newfound "feminine curves" and how for the first time she really feels like a woman - gag. Hopefully there will be many fat photos a la Debra Messing we can console ourselves while we wait for Vogue's inevitable post-pregnancy look-how-the-spawn-hardly-changed-her-figure photoshoot.

Sweet mother of pearl!
I just sat through the most unbelievable reality shows: Amish in the City and The Player.
I really don't know what to say. Both shows were so very very terrible.
I am still covered in goosebumps from embarrassment.
I can't tell you about these shows right now - you will just have to follow the links.
I just had to tell somebody and sadly I had to come here to do it.

Okay, tomorrow night I am going out.
No excuses - I have stated here that I will not bail.
It's as legally binding as anything.

it's wednesday.
it is my first official day of holidays and i am at work.
my forehead is buzzing with the irritation and ill will i am feeling for my fellow humans.
it is hot outside.
i own nothing but black clothing - not by choice, just the way it's worked out.

it has been a rough couple of days.
an important anniversary passed and was observed with sadness.
my apartment needs cleaning and i watched too much tv this morning.

there is going to be a meteor shower tonight and the weather is fine.
perhaps (who am i kidding?) i will go to the beach to watch.

silver lining: i got my itinerary for trip to nyc.
finally, something to look forward to.

yeah, so my hard drive cannibalized itself.
terrible thing to witness.
first, a grinding, munching sound, followed by the blue screen of death.
next, a nasty red screen and then utter blackness.
everything is gone.
my photos, my music, my files, my...everything.

this has happened to me twice before.
now, you may ask: did the silly bitch back up her files?
and i would answer: no, of course not. i'm a free spirit.
darling, non?

so, i will have to rely on my work computer.
coolio.

my life is dull, i am going to go to more "functions".
i will need a new pair of party shoes and a LBD.

oh, i have also decided that i am ready for a book deal.
no, i don't have a premise or an idea.
but i got heart.
and i got italics down pat.

this will make your skin crawl

tonight i walked the few short blocks to the beach to watch the fireworks.
it was a beautiful night, i remembered my blanket and i'm pleased to say the chatty wanker in the tilly hat sitting directly behind me hardly even annoyed me.
i got awfully misty-eyed several times.
turns out i'm not dead inside after all.

USA! USA! - image courtesy of defamer.com


jesus, time really is not cooperating today.
it's been 4:45 for hours.
i am bored and i cannot concentrate.
i can't leave work until 5:00 pm - i have set this goal for myself.

i don't know why i'm in such a hurry - its not like i have anything to do.

ooh, i set another goal - i am going to try to start capitalizing my text.

exciting shit, huh?

it's close enough to five now.

holy fuck!
i mean just last night i wished for money and looky what i woke up to!
i will bring y'all something nice back from new yawk.

you have a grrrreat day! i'm off to spend my rent money!
happy times here at last.

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i'm goin' to nyc, i'm goin' to nyc,
i can't afford it, i can't afford it.
i will sort that out later.
right now i just need to scrape the fare together asap.
i'm meeting my dearest friend for thanksgiving.
she booked her ticket today - so if i bail i will never be forgiven.
the fare is very affordable for people with money...only $500 CDN.

maybe i will man a lemonade stand this weekend.

back from ghost-hunting in victoria.
true story.
i had a good time, but now i'm tired and crabby.
i must develop a thicker skin - i'm too easily wounded.
or maybe i just think too much...mountains out of molehills...
off to sleep i scramble.

thanks be to all of you who had kind words for me in my absence.
you are good people.