Once again, Walmart has provided me with one of the most unusual and unsettling experiences I’ve had in some time.
I hate to support Walmart but it was necessary to do some big box store shopping in order to finish up my Xmas capitalism blowout. After twenty minutes of pushing, shoving, and regretting my recent renouncing of cigarettes, I finally arrived at the cash register. No feeling of relief here, as the woman in line in front of me is holding a gun.
Now don’t panic, this woman was no robber. She had mom-perm like mad, and no self respecting armed robber would be caught dead with such a terrible ‘do. No this woman simply walked into the store, picked out the biggest, shiniest gun she could find, and bought it. For $59.95. Taxes in.
I’ve heard rumours of this sort of thing happening, mainly in gun happy USA. But here in Canada you can apparently arm yourself for less than the price of a more respectable perm than the one modeled by Shooty McHousewife. To make things even weirder the cashier took this all in stride and made jokes about being married to a hunter.
‘Har har har. My fat husband likes to shoot defenseless animals. He doesn’t even like deer meat, he just thinks they look better mounted on a wall. Har har har. By the way, I love your perm. Har har.’
And people wonder why I look shell shocked when I come home from the mall. I found out recently that the original inventor of the shopping centre was so depressed by what he had created, he moved to Europe to escape it. Turns out he hated cars and intended malls to be a social gathering place for pedestrians. Undoubtedly he’s buried under a parking lot somewhere. Stupid poetic injustice.
Xmas shopping did help me learn a valuable life lesson today. I cannot, under any circumstances, shop for underwear for myself when the men’s underwear department is filled with middle aged women buying tighty-whities for their sons and husbands. Sure I would look oh so fashionable in comparison as I picked out my somewhat stylish striped boxer-briefs, but I just couldn’t do it. Something about hordes of middle aged biddies knowing exactly what I’ve got on under my jeans makes me feel terribly vulnerable.
In retrospect, I should have camped out in the bra section. How fun would it be to snicker and point as they pick out their 68 double F’s? Turn about is fair play after all, but I probably would have been asked to leave after I’d laughed myself to tears.
Oh it’s hard to be a Jew at Christmas… But I bet it’s harder to be a recovering Christian at Christmas. As a former Christian now happily in remission I have no idea how to deal with the holidays. I couldn’t care less about the religious significance, and I’m disgusted by the blatant commercialism. Not that I won’t indulge, but that’s expected. It’s hard to sit around on Dec. 25th explaining why you didn’t buy anything for all the people who thought long and hard and still bought you a $10 gift certificate to Cotton Ginny.
Every time I see the hordes of acid wash jean wearing, donut eating, chain smoking, child dragging embodiments of all human misery running through the malls with rapidly melting credit cards I just want to scream. Why all the panic to find the perfect gift? Nobody is going to remember anyway. Anyone out there remember what you got last year from your parents or siblings or various far flung relatives? Of course not. What did you get them? Didn’t think so.
Christmas is not the most wonderful time of the year. It’s the one time of the year when people can feel good about verbally assaulting anyone who refuses to conform. Don’t like Christmas? Well then you’re a Scrooge. You’re a terrible human being who believes only in misery and hate. How dare you be allowed to live during the month of December? Cold hearted bastard. You’re as bad as that atheist vegetarian from work. She absolutely ruined my turkey dinner last year!
Not a Christian? Well that’s okay. We’re PC now. We respect your diverse beliefs and customs. But you’re still coming to my kid’s Christmas concert right? And you got my Christmas card in the mail didn’t you? Don’t forget you’re working Christmas this year too. I didn’t think you’d mind since you’re not Christian and all. I’ll be busy with all my Christmas dinners and parties, so thanks again for covering for me. Have fun!
And who decided that Christmas is a month long deal? (ordeal?) Some places drag out the decorations as soon as Halloween is over. Speaking of Halloween, that’s a holiday I can understand. Don’t like Halloween? Peachy. Turn off your lights, lock the door, and go out for dinner somewhere. If you’re lucky you won’t see a single trick or treater. And in case you make that fatal mistake of admitting in public that you don’t like October 31st? Big fucking deal. In fact, lots of people will agree with you. No ridicule or public condemnation, guaranteed!
So this is my plan for Christmas this year. I’ve devised a single, scripted response to deal with any Christmas related interaction. It goes like this:
The real beauty is this works almost anywhere. Someone wishes you Merry Christmas? “Fuck off!” Carollers fa-la-la-la-laing at your door? “Fuck off!” Hot guy pulls you under the mistletoe for a little Christmas cheer?
Well, I guess that’s the exception to the rule. Merry Christmas!
Am I the only person who finds the automatic grammar check included with most current word processing programs really offensive? Let’s just imagine for a moment what the world would be like if everyone obeyed the rules indicated by the little green underlining. I’d be bored as shit! Canadian literature would be non-existent without colloquialisms and randomly inserted vulgarity. And sentence fragments? Love them. Lost without them.
I am fully aware that I do not write, or talk for that matter, in perfect grammatical form. I happen to enjoy not obeying all of the rules. In fact, I enjoy it when other writers bend the rules from time to time. If we all obeyed the little green lines then every blog hosted on this site would read like an instruction manual for a microwave or universal remote.
Now I’m worried that this feature is having an adverse effect on the quality of written material available today. Nobody in their right mind writes with a typewriter or a pen anymore, not if they’re writing something of any length. Is it possible that the computer grammar police are leading to books and magazines written in bland, colourless style? Like that utter piece of shite, 2 ‘The magazine for couples’. Absolutely nauseating, although I doubt WordPerfect is to blame for that helpless mess.
In order to improve on the quality of today’s reading materials, I’m asking all my faithful readers (I’m looking at you three!) to do two things. First, turn off the little green lines. Your grammar is just fine. And if it isn’t? Fuck it. Who really cares about grammar anyway? I’ll take artistic expression any day, thank you very much.
Second, make sure that your word program is set to the proper language! In a disgusting display of American imperialism (sorry, had to throw in a little propaganda) most word processing programs are set to American English for the default language. This results in writing atrocities like the words color, splendor, center, ad nauseum. Not only do these words when properly spelled get a little red line, they actually get replaced automatically! Try all you want, you will never write about the colourful splendour of the shopping centre ever again! (Not that you should, down with materialism and all. Again, sorry.)
And finally a few helpful suggestions. omitting capital letters is not cute omitting punctuation is annoying AND CAPS LOCK IS FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY. And pleaz, leav the spel cheker on. It’s their four a reson.
For homework, read my blog every day. Nine out of ten doctors agree that reading my blog prevents prostate cancer.*
*Test subjects were women aged 12-14. Doctors may not be medical doctors.
Obviously I changed my mind re: the whole protest thing. How could I really miss out on one of the largest political protests Halifax has ever seen? And try as I might, I am still mightily offended by Bush, and it’s my democratic right (Remember those America? You had them once too) to show my frustration with his administration any way I can.
Besides, Barrington Street looks really fucking cool when you’re marching down the centre of it with 5000 other angry people. I can’t understand how my parents grew up in the 60’s and 70’s and have never gone to a demonstration of any kind. Obviously a terrible oversight on their part.
But on to the biggest news of the day. I saw Bush. I actually saw him and got to give him the finger. Not my most mature hour I’m sure, but I feel much better anyway. Despite feeling great and socially active and all, I’m very disappointed with some of my peers. One actually railed against protesting because she thought we should all be excited that a celebrity was coming to Halifax. Um, hello, this is your conscience calling? Remember me? Yeah well that ‘celebrity’ is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent Iraqis, and lord knows how many Texans. (Down with capital punishment too while we’re in a protesting mood.)
Others were being ridiculous in more subtle ways. A surprising number of usually lucid people were actually impressed by Bush’s speech. He was so funny! Yeah he’s a fucking knee-slapper. Oh wait, no he’s a fucking fascist, that’s it.
Fascist is a word I hate to use. I think Dan Savage yelled at people for it once, telling them to keep it in reserve until we really need it. Well I’m sorry folks, but is anyone else out there worried that we might be headed in that direction? Let’s see, stirring up hate of minorities (me, etc.), declaring war on sovereign countries, stripping away civil liberties (hello ‘patriot’ act), and weakening the UN. Add in the fact that he’s a religious nutball and a big old fan of the death penalty and I actually feel pretty bad for Americans.
From the excerpts I heard of Bush’s speech it looks like he was going for folksy and down home charming, as usual. For a pretty folksy and down home province, I really don’t think Nova Scotia bought it for the most part. From what I hear he made jokes about PEI potatoes and Alberta beef. Since he’s doing nothing to stop the US ban on these two products, maybe he should just shut the fuck up rather than go for the polite chuckle. Or here’s an idea. Make some jokes about common sense, decency, and responsibility. Stick with the theme George, those have all been banned from the US for at least four years now.
So George W. Bush is coming to Halifax. And I don’t care. I’m a little surprised at my reaction to this as I know I should be livid and marching through the streets. Honestly, I hardly feel anything one way or the other. I realize he’s a terrible president, and from most accounts not a very nice guy in general. I’m fully aware that he’s causing chaos in the middle east, helping to ruin the environment, and doing all he can to strip gay Americans of their meagre rights. I know that I stand for almost all he stands against, and vice versa. And yet I still don’t care that he’s coming.
Why? Because I’m tired. I’m so tired of him, of America, the whole bit. As a Canadian, I am fortunate enough to live in a relatively free, democratic country that for the most part respects my rights as a citizen. We have gay marriage, the Kyoto accord, the forthcoming de-criminalization of marijuana, and most importantly, our military isn’t occupying a formerly sovereign nation. Sure Canada has it’s problems and shortcomings, but we’re no America, not by a long shot.
And since we aren’t America, I feel justified in letting go of my rage against President Dubya. He’s the American president, so let the Americans worry about him. And the Iraqis of course, since he is the real President of Iraq for the time being and foreseeable future.
I hope that when Dubya arrives in quaint, friendly little Halifax he is greeted by an absolute horde of protesters. I hope that he has a miserable time here, and that Canadians’ abhorrence of current American policies gets broadcast around the globe. And I hope that nobody notices that I didn’t bother to go out to join the crowd.
I’ve said before that the only thing worse than hatred is indifference. At least when somebody hates you they still have very powerful feelings for you. I don’t hate Dubya, that would imply that I give the slightest bit of a damn about him. Frankly, he’s proven over and over again that he’s not worthy of my time. So when George W. Bush arrives in my city, I intend to give him the reception he deserves here and everywhere else in the world.
I’m going to ignore him, and wait patiently for him to go away.
Hilarity! Before work Bri and I sat down for some brief KITH watching, which as always was a very good time. More people would have the occasional good day if they only started it with Simon and Hecubus.
Such good times. Although I now know the ending of Presumed Innocent, not that I ever intend to watch it or know even the beginning or the middle. I’d post the ending here but I’ve already spoiled one movie this month. (It’s made of people!)
Anyway. Had a phone call from Haley the other day, which although once a daily occurrence has become a rare treat. School will do that though. Not that I go, god(s) forbid, but she’s approaching exams and has little time for socializing.
Crystal’s been away for a day or so too, so no word yet on the FUNeral. Lots of discussions going around lately about funerals. Oddly more about the inaccuracies in TV funeral portrayals. This is how it is on TV: Everyone hugs, everyone bonds, everyone reaffirms the joys of living, blah blah blah. Here’s how it really is: Everybody fights, everybody vents, everybody remembers why they only visit their relatives once a year. Most of them anyway.
But back to relatives I do enjoy. This morning, thanks to one such family member, is market time, much to my dismay. I’m so very, very tired, but will still go as I am a brother of the highest quality. And Bri is a sister of the vegetable needing variety. Personally, I don’t eat many vegetables. I don’t’ trust them. Something about broccoli just seems to say SINISTER real loud. Oh right, it’s the taste.
Speaking of sinister tastes, I tried baked beans for the first time this week. One question bean eaters of the world: What the fuck is wrong with your taste buds? Good lord but beans are the grossest thing known to man! And I’ve eaten bugs! (another story, another day) Taste, texture, smell, visuals, all wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. You know what tastes better than beans? My ass tastes better than beans!
Seriously, ask around.
At least not today, or it doesn’t look that way yet. My god but I’ve had the worst 48 hours ever, at least as far as work is concerned. For a good day and a half there it really was looking like I had lost the hotel about $839.00 give or take a few nickels. As of last night though, barring any unfortunate disputes with Visa, it looks like I’m in the clear.
Which is great, since I’m one of the handful of people at my work who actually give a damn about their job performance. I’m not quite a perfectionist, certainly not in most other areas of my life, but with work I’m pretty fucking close. I do NOT like to fuck up. It doesn’t happen often, thank Jeebuz, but when it does it really pisses me off.
Which is weird, since this isn’t exactly my dream job or the career path I want to be in for the rest of my life. Still, it’s nice to know that I’ll still be gainfully employed for, oh let's say the next week.
Very fun morning today spent talking to Christine about books. I don’t usually have a lot of people who enjoy reading as much as I do. Except Crystal, but she reads classic British novels that would bore me to tears. Not much for discussion there.
Christine, however, is all about contemporary fiction, and also a bit of sci-fi and fantasy novels thrown in for good measure. She’s actually going to lend me the Lord of the Rings so I can try, hopefully not in vain, to read it again. The last time I tried I couldn’t get through the first five chapters. We had a very nice time although she refuses to believe that I actually liked 1984 more than Animal Farm. Both are great by the way, go read them now.
So I wrote the ex yesterday and despite all my previous venom I was actually civil and didn’t rub in the fact that I’m in a functional relationship too badly. Maybe a bit, but nothing obvious and crass. I have to say it was kind of nice to catch up, which is a good sign as I don’t really want to carry around any anger/bitterness/rage about the past. I realize this contradicts my blog from two days ago to a large degree, but it’s my blog so fuck off I can do what I want.
I almost suggested that I might be growing as a person. Don’t worry, not a chance.
I’m wide awake this morning even though it’s almost time for bed. If I had any kind of dedication I’d go straight home and sleep, get up early and go to the gym. Unfortunately that’s probably not me at all so I’ll most likely end up going home, buying some cigarettes, and watching a movie. Oh well.
Bri and I decided that we’re going to stay in the apartment until January. Partly because we felt bad about leaving G without a roommate and partly because we realized we were blocking out just how small the apartment we found was. It’s so cute and has a big balcony so how could we not ignore the size? Well it turns out we can’t, which is probably for the best. Looks like we’re going to spend the next month looking at places, which makes me feel better than if we had taken the first place we’d seen. I hate doing that because you can’t help but think that the next one could be perfect. Apartment hunting’s kind of like dating in that respect I guess.
Good thing I’m long past the first one.
My excitement today knows no bounds. For the first time in at least three years I have a new favourite movie! I know most people have probably seen this long ago but today was the first time I watched Soylent Green. I loved it! Even though In The Soire called half way through and asked me if I’d figured out that ‘it’s made of people’ yet. Thanks for spoiling the fun Soire! Actually I’m surprised I’d never caught the many obvious cultural references to this before. I almost feel as lame as those cave dwellers who don’t know that Darth Vader is Luke’s father. (Sorry to ruin the fun for you Neanderthals out there.)
A quick Google search informs me that I’ve missed SG references on Family Guy, the Simpsons, and Buffy to name a few. How sad! These are some of my favourite shows and apparently I’ve been paying only minimal attention to them for years. Lord knows how many jokes I’ve missed by now.
Anyway, I absolutely loved Soylent Green and can’t wait to buy the DVD. After watching that with Bri I went downtown to watch Alfie with Joey, Crystal, and Heather. Can’t say that there’s anything bad about watching Jude Law look sexy and flirty for two hours. Fully worth the price of admission. Aside from that the movie decent, but nothing to rave on about. (See SG)
Movies aside, Bri and I also went to see an apartment today that’s three houses down from Joey’s. It was kind of smallish, but redeemed by the reasonable rent, free heat, pine floors and wicked back deck. So pumped about the deck, I want this place bad just for that. It’ll be a little cramped at first but we realized that it will force us to edit out all the crap we keep around and never use. Not that I want to be a minimalist all of the sudden, but I’d love to have a nice uncluttered apartment. Only the bare essentials and some tasteful decorations and personal stuff. No bloody knickknacks. God damn how I hate them.
Ever go into someone’s house and find every available surface crammed with hideous glass figurines and cracked out collectables? How can anybody live with this shit? Do they put aside four hours a day just to dust? Either my allergies would kill me or I’d kill myself if I lived like that.
Bri wants us to go and look at a place in the north end tomorrow. I don’t have high hopes for it as the rent is suspiciously low, and the neighbourhood isn’t the safest feeling in town. Despite being a little on the small side the place we looked at today had a really comfortable feel to it. I’d be happier if the rent was lower but it is within our preferred price range, if only by about ten bucks. Mind you if the north end apartment turns out to be fantastic and at the southern end of the street, I’ll sign for it in a heartbeat.
Before we can move we’re going to have to sort out the December rent situation with G. He thinks it’s only fair that we pay the whole month’s rent since we only gave him three weeks notice. Personally I can’t afford that and think that since we outnumber him two to one, it’s not all that fair that we’re the ones moving in the first place. I’m excited to move to a place with free heat though, so I don’t actually mind. I have no problem with paying half a month’s rent, but anything more seems unreasonable to me. Add in rent at the new place, damage deposit, and moving fees and it doesn’t look like anyone’s getting Christmas gifts this year. Unfortunately I also find myself sympathizing with G as we’re leaving him with no roommates on short notice. Looks like the three of us are going to have to sit down for a serious discussion on this, which should be an absolute joy.
I’m open to suggestions on how to resolve this. I don’t want to come out of this looking like a dick, but I also don’t want to end up being a chump.
Long bloody night, to be followed by a long bloody day. Having very few guests in the hotel is great in a peaceful, restful way, but it’s so dull. The nights drag on forever, but you still can’t nap even for a minute. Fortunately I’ve got something to look forward to as Crystal is cooking us bacon and eggs in the morning. Sweet.
I suppose I’d better get on with this. Any guesses on who emailed me tonight for the first time in, oh, about a year? Anyone? No? Alright then.
Chris the bloody ex-boyfriend! Just writing to chat and see what I was up to and let me know what he’s doing. You know, just catching up, la la la.
WHAT THE FUCK? Why on god’s green earth would he email me now? ‘Oh hi Chris, sure let’s catch up. I’m fine, family’s fine, oh you’re still an emotional black hole huh? Well that’s good.’
Goddamn! I wish it was possible to make ‘the point’ a tangible, physical object. That way you could mail it to people who remain perpetually clueless. Then you could call them up in a week and say ‘Hey, did you get The Point?’ and they’d say ‘Sure did! Guess I won’t bother trying to be all friendly like with you anymore, maybe I should just stay out of your way huh?’ And you could say ‘Yep, you really did get it. God bless you Canada Post.’
Foolishness! At the same time there’s an upside to this. From his update I’ve learned that he’s still single and probably lonely way up there in the buttfuck Arctic. I, on the other hand, can now email him back raving on about my great new relationship, my plans to go back to university, my upcoming move with Bri, etc. Of course I could take the high road and pass on all this information in a slightly less than insufferably smug way, but where’s the fun in that? As far as I’m concerned if somebody’s been a son of a bitch to you in the past, you’ve got every right to be one to them in the future.
Joey honey please disregard that last statement as it doesn’t apply to you. No matter how mean I once was that does NOT entitle you to stop being sweet and cooking me dinner and performing other niceties. I’m very sorry but there IS an exception to every rule, and you just happen to be it this time.
As I was saying, I’m a big fan of the forgive part, but definitely not of the forget. You simply cannot call, email, FedEx or smoke signal someone up out of the blue and pretend you’ve never been nothing but sugary sweet to them. Especially not if you’ve been, in the words of my favorite smashing singleton ‘A complete emotional fuckwit’.
My apologies to you Helen Fielding, but plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery.
Today I made the viciously awful mistake of standing sideways in front of the mirror in my work uniform. From this experiment gone horribly awry I can deduce one fact:
I must loose weight. Now.
Not that I’m obsessive over my weight. I’m always a bit over what I probably should be, but I couldn’t care less. I’m much more comfortable when I’m a bit on the round side. I can’t imagine being skin and bones, I’d be sharp and jabby all over. None of this for me.
However, I’m now in immediate danger of having to become a nudist. That’s right, my body has reached critical mass as far as my wardrobe is concerned. This could not possibly come at a worse time as winter is fast approaching. Winter in Canada no less. Perhaps if I lived in California or Guatemala or the middle of the fucking Sahara this would not be such a problem. As things stand though, it appears I must take immediate action to avoid a frostbite crisis.
Aside from my poor diet and aversion to the gym and all activities that take place therein (locker rooms excluded, obviously), I can think of two factors that are clearly responsible for my sudden horizontal growth spurt.
Number one: Public Transportation.
Busses are far too convenient in cold weather. Ever since I started taking the bus to and from work my body has gone into blubber mode. In warmer times I walked at least an hour every day, now that fall and almost winter are here I now walk about twenty minutes a day. On a good day, maybe thirty. No good can come from this, as my straining belt can attest.
Number two: Joey.
Single people are invariably more weight conscious than people with significant others. One has to maintain a healthy, pleasing body shape in order to land a partner/date/one night stand/fuck buddy. Now that I’ve got all of the above (role playing is fun!) I’ve let myself go without even noticing. Joey, lovely boy that he is (and he really is very, very lovely) will never mention this as long as I am able to fit through the door to his apartment.
While I am in no danger of needing the jaws of life to get out of any doorframes, I’ve decided to take action now in order to avoid that fate. This means I must now endure, with regularity, trips to that voluntary torture chamber we call the gym. I am not happy about this, but I am resigned to it. Not to worry though, I find weight loss progress blogs tasteless and overdone, suitable only for guests of the Dr. Phil show. I will, however, post occasional updates provided I make positive progress. If in two months time I can’t fit through standard doorframes, most of you shall never know.
And if ANYONE writes a comment suggesting the Atkins/Southbeach/Hollywood-Starvation diets, I will personally hunt them down and suffocate them with my flub.
Here’s to feeling the burn, but not while peeing.
How's this for the ultimate relationship faux pas?
Entering the washroom while your girlfriend is in the tub having a bath, dropping your drawers, and taking a shit. Right in front of her.
Seriously. This actually happens to people. People I know! How do these men ever expect to have sex again?
Such a lovely note to start with. On to less offensive matters, I went to the farmer's market yesterday for the first time in years. Anytime I go anywhere and am overwhelmed by the smell of fresh bread, that's a fucking good time right there. I bought cranberry-jalapeno jelly and it kills me just to smell it. Such a good time.
Yesterday was a good day. I slept over at Joey's all day, which I was afraid would incovenience him but didn't at all as it turns out. He abandoned me twice and went to run errands. Which is great that he's so comfortable leaving me alone in his home. Still, it would have left me feeling pretty disoriented if I'd woken up while he was gone. What a great opportunity I had to rifle through his things! Wasted! I could have watched ill-gotten porn for god(s)'s sake!
Curses and death on that, I guess. Wrapped yesterday up by going to dinner with Joey, Bri, and G at Freeman's. This was a great time had by all, but still rather weird in retrospect, given the whole Bri-G dynamic or current lack thereof. I lost $3 on video lotto (curses! death!) but didn't loose at DENIRO, so the whole event was kind of a draw, broken only by good pizza and respectable ceasar salad. Looks like Bill Cosby was on to something here.
My apologies on such a wickedly schizophrenic blog. Tomorrow I promise to have a new soap box to stand on.
First and foremost, just to get it out of the way...
GOD FUCKING GOD DAMN STUPID PIG IGNORANT AMERICAN VOTERS!
WHAT THE JESUS IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?
Okay, let’s try taking a different tack on this. Four more years of Bush means what? A weakened American economy, which judging from the past four years seems to actually benefit Canada. A brutal, unending war in the middle east that’s possibly so horrible it will turn most average Americans against the president and political party that took them there.
This is really great in a way. No sarcasm either, it really is. If we can be honest here for a moment, then we can admit that as Canadians, we hate the United States. Not individual Americans necessarily, but the nation itself, and it’s government. We smile and act polite, mainly to rake in tourist dollars, and then we spit (sometimes literally) and hurl insults behind their backs. Not exactly the most mature, responsible behavior, but we all do it.
And now, finally, our natural feelings have been validated. Everyone will back us up this time. Not only did George W. Bush stay president, but this time he was legitimately elected by the majority of the American electorate, who we can now blame openly for all his actions. No more hiding behind ‘Oh well they didn’t really elect him so we can’t judge to harshly’. Oh no, not this time.
So let’s just state this clearly for the record. I feel bad for the American soldiers who are dying in Iraq. I feel bad for the American workers who are losing their jobs in a sluggish economy. I feel bad for the gay and lesbian Americans who can’t have their relationships recognized by the law. Hell, I feel bad for just about every American out there. And to them, I’d just like to say one thing:
You brought this all on yourselves. So fuck you.
Damn I'm so sick of waiting to see Dubya booted on his ass! I've endured, with varying levels of patience, the non-stop news coverage of tomorrow's election run-up for the past year!
Can you imagine if Canada devoted 365 days to campaign coverage? We'd all vote for Peter Mansbridge or Lloyd Robertson just to get them off the air, we'd be so sick of the sight of them. Not that I'm not sick of seeing Bushy, but that feeling came in the last days of the Clinton admin.
Speaking of which, does anyone else miss the Clintons terribly? Sure they had scandals, but they were funny scandals. I'll take a little errant sperm over errant missiles any day.
While we're on the topic of terms that are (or at least should be) coming to an end, Crystal's boorish ex finally left the nest today. And it only took two whole months for him to leave. Seems he was staying to 'help her financially'. Okay, here's the thing with that. When you weight the pros and cons of this (helping financially vs hurting mentally), this is a pretty ridiculous excuse. Why can't people simply admit when they're just too lazy to do something? Or when they really ARE just there for the oil?
Wasn't that a great segway? If only the scooters ran as smoothly as that did.
But back to the issue here, does anyone else find it funny that our southern neighbours are called the United States of America? Let's put this title to the test, shall we?
United on Abortion? No.
United on Gay Marriage? No.
United on The War? No.
United on Political Affiliation? God no.
Looks like it's time for a name change America! I think The Divided State of America has a lovely ring to it. Challenge time then my friends. This one's going out to any Americans, or Canadians (or Mexicans for that matter) who live near the Canada/DS border. Grab a can of spray paint, and save the DS government a few bucks in sign replacement. It's only fair that visiters be welcomed by accurate signage, or in this case a fair warning.
Only six or so hours to go now. Best of luck to you Mr. Kerry. May the Force (of the entire world's frustration) be with you.
Which could describe either my blog entry today, or myself, whichever.
Ugh. Today went so absolutely well until about two hours after I smoked my last cigarette. Now I'm tired, cranky, tired, hateful, tired, and about to buy another pack first thing in the morning. Which pisses me off but I've got three days off coming up, and that seems like a much better time to quit than when I'm working eight hours, off for eight, in for eight, and out drinking it up all night.
Yeah, hooray for blogging when it helps you make slowly killing yourself seem like the logical thing to do.
Nothing starts a day off wrong like getting up when it’s dark out, after going to bed when… it’s… dark… out. Sigh. It’s hard to avoid getting up on the wrong side of the bed when it’s too dark to see which side’s which.
Somehow, regardless of this, today actually was really great. I got up at 6pm and was at the mall to surprise Joey by quarter to seven. Record time, especially when you factor in the bus ride, and the bus being late. Surprises seem to be Joey’s favourite thing, so he was pretty happy when I showed up at the end of his day. I bolted when his supervisor came along, even though she laughed at me and told me not to be so foolish and to wait inside.
I desperately needed coffee anyway, so I made a quick stop at Tim Hortons.
Speaking of which, I am SO SICK of people knocking Tim Hortons! I know it’s the cool thing to do, but let’s look at the facts:
1. The coffee is actually not that bad, at least in my opinion.
2. They’re distinctly Canadian. What kind of person are you if you’re knocking Tim Hortons all the time while you’re on your way to Starbucks?
You’re a TRAITOR! That’s what kind of person you are. Either that or a non-Canadian, in which case you may go about your business. But if you are Canadian, and you do prefer Starbucks over Tim Hortons, then you’re off my generic winter holiday gift list.
But I digress. Frequently. For the first time in over a year I went grocery shopping with a significant other. What an enjoyably domestic experience! We bought separate groceries but it was still a lot of fun. Groceries were followed by pizza making, by which of course I mean placing a pre-made pizza in the oven. Still good though. A little trash TV later and I was out the door and on the way to work.
Blogging today has taken on a new form, as I now have to write in Word and copy/paste into Blogger. I read on BBC News yesterday about a woman who works for Delta Airlines who got fired for blogging at work. Well actually it was because she posted a picture of herself looking kind of slutty in her Delta uniform on her blog, but that’s just plain stupid. Either way I’m choosing to be a bit more discrete.
Speaking of blogs, if you want to be truly horrified, check out my sister’s blog. It’s so gross that I actually can’t check it at work anymore. At least not until a certain picture is removed.
Also check out Crystal’s blog for her recounting of today’s acting performance.
Susan Lucci won’t even be nominated once the academy checks out this shit.
Yawn. Terrible Halloween costume ideas all three. I however, have a fantastic, and simple idea. Not that I'll mention it here of course as that would ruin the surprise for certain government employees.
I tend to dislike Halloween because I always wait until the last possible second to come up with a costume idea, and then am dissatisfied with the result. This year of course is more of the same, except with a lot less caring involved. My mind set towards my costume: meh, who cares. My mind set towards Halloween: yeah, pressure-free fun! Besides, lots and lots of drinks will be served so I'm sure I won't be too self conscious for long.
The pirate tour was a bust. Joey and I got to Historic Properties and found out the tour consisted of three guys dressed in cheesy ghost costumes standing around in the cold having a smoke break. Thank you Halifax and your consistently piss poor tourist traps. We bailed and went on the long walk to forever through the south end, downtown, and along the waterfront. Actually the boardwalk was great as the tide was weirdly high and we actually got to listen to waves breaking on the rocks for a change. No tampon floaties either. Talk about your night for romance. Unfortunately I had to go to work but it was still a lovely evening overall.
Funny how this works but I spent ten minutes on the SMU campus the other day and am once again pumped at the prospect of going back to school. Also Crystal is expressing interest in going with me, which would be too cool for school. Or rather not, I suppose.
Had lunch with Pat today and discovered that you really aren't supposed to take multi-vitamins on an empty stomach. I spent the first half of the meal sitting there looking pale and shaking, not eating because my stomach was disolving itself. I'm told I was a whole world of fun to be sitting across from. Still ended up having fun though after I managed to get some food into me.
Did anyone else try to see the lunar eclipse tonight? What a ripoff. When the stupid clouds weren't covering the whole thing all it did was get slightly rust coloured for about a minute, and then it was over. How's that something to get excited about? I should sue ATV news for raising my expectations to an unreasonable level.
This could be fun. Could be. Hmmm.
Joey's taking us on a walking tour of historic properties, that I've been told may feature pirates. This sounds so unbearably touristy I could cry, but I'm going into it with an open mind. I freely admit that this is one of those things I'll do because I like making him happy, but I can't go into it with a neg attitude or he'll catch on right away. Could be fun. Maybe. I'll try having an open mind about it and see how that goes.
Got back to Halifax (see Halisex, Whorifax, etc) after three days at home with ma and pa. Got two fantastic free restaurant meals, and equally enjoyable home cooking, and time with the parents and the dog. Good times were definitely had by me but oh god how ready was I to come back to Halifax. Land of vices and things to do and distinctly lacking in cows. How do you spell relief? Not C O W I can tell you that much.
Still, home's really relaxing and nostalgic and pretty. Not the town itself but our house is nice, so's the cottage, which mom and dad did a lot of work on. I laughed and said now there'd be so much less I had to do when they kicked it. I think dad found this funny, maybe not mom. Probably a little, knowing her. Got sweet Big Stop food, the only thing Irving's doing in this world that isn't damning them to eternal hellfires. Well it probably is, but I don't care. Go Big Stop! Woo!
I'm currently listening to The Tragedies right now, and it's entertaining me in that I've never heard a band say 'whores' so many times. Then again they are from halifax (whorifax, halisex, etc).
Apparently the Ling and Meags didn't get typhooned to death, but another girl Margaret got hit in the head with a DVD player during the last earthquake. She was in an electronics store 10miles from the epicentre. I hear that all the Japanese people will grab onto and cover any foreign looking people because they assume that you don't know what to do in an earthquake. Which is, as far as I'm concerned, a completely accurate assumption. I know Margaret was pretty grateful for this attitude. She was pretty pissed I guess as a major aftershock hit right after she had finally convinced herself it was okay to go to bed.
Is it wrong that I'm kind of jealous that I didn't get to experience an earthquake? Not that I want one here, our house and most of the buildings around here would turn into splinters at a remarkable pace. Still, what's more exciting than an earthquake? This is only an attitude someone living outside an earthquake zone could appreciate I realize, so please don't comment and rip me up for insensitivity. It ain't gonna happen here, so I can be as blasé as I want about it, got that? If you really want to get even make nasty comments about hurricaines. Honestly they're still weirdly exciting too, unless you get swept out to sea or a house falls on you. That'd be less than cool.
Still more exciting than pirates though.
I hope somebody out there knows the song I bastardized for the title of today's blog. If not, sorry but you'll have to remain unenlightened for the time being.
My apologies to my (very) few faithful readers for my infrequent blogging, but I'm entitled. This was my birthday weekend so I don't feel too guilty about taking a few days off.
The festivities this year were pretty choice. Some key figures were missing due to sickness and death, literally for a change, but there was still a fine array of folks present. Lots of debauchery and indulgence, followed by some violence (in game form only, of course). All together we partied, danced, and drank for eight consecutive hours. No small accomplishment, if I may say so myself.
Great presents from Bri, Joey and others, including an unopened bottle of tequila in my fridge and some slight illegalities from Nicole. Bonne fete indeed.
Altogether we danced and drank and drank and danced for eight solid hours before heading off to bed, but not before I had a strange girl arrested and thrown in the drunk tank. I'd feel guilty about this but if you can't have drunk girls arrested on your birthday, when can you?
And, I got the BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER! I got the Golden Girls season one on DVD from Bri! It's not out until Nov. 23rd but I can wait a month for that. Oh Bea Arthur, we'll be together again soon...
Found out today that GFry is coming back from England/France/Germany on Saturday. Thankfully I'll be away in the homeland and won't have to worry about the state of rage my poor painting job in the kitchen might provoke. It'll be nice to see him again once he calms down though. Apparently the tour went really well in France after England's suckassery. I guess the French enjoy music to commit suicide to. Sorry G.
Also discovered today that southern Japan got hit by a huge typhoon, which makes me wonder about Meags and the Ling. Hopefully they're okay, I'll have to check out Ling's blog over the next few days to find out. Either that or wait for Meag's hourly email update. So far this makes one earthquake (in the first week, no less), many accounts of near death by bicycle, and possibly two typhoons.
Sure Meags, I'll come visit you real soon.
Hilarity! Craig called today to tell Bri and I that he had gotten two extra free tickets to the Just For Laughs comedy tour. I love comedy and have never been to see an actual big comedy show, so this was super fun. Obviously we accepted his offer, and we ended up meeting Craig and Laurae and his place. Grabbed a quick smoke and half a Danish beer there (love the Danes, and love their beer apparently) and cabbed it over to the Cohn.
OUR SEATS WERE IN THE THIRD FUCKING ROW! I realize we weren't seeing God in concert or anything but it was still very exciting. Unfortunately we didn't get to sit with Craig and Laurae, and I forgot to ask them afterwards how their seats were. If we got the better seats that sucks for them, expecially since it's Craig's birthday today.
Speaking of which, it's two days until my birthday! Or one now since it's technically after midnight. Apparently Bri has a wicked birthday gift for me, but it won't be here for another week or two. She refuses to tell me what it is until my birthday. Now I can see the logic in this, even though I won't be getting it until later, but I really want to know! I want presents! Lots of fun presents!
Got money from ma and pa, which was greatly appreciated, but not as much as the note inside. Mom wrote 'Have fun and celebrate with this, and don't even think of spending it on bills!'. Not that I would, but how cool are they to insist that I party on their money?
Maybe I'll buy some crack with it mom. Would you like that?
No, probably not.
My lovely associate thinks that I am in the back office slaving over a backlog of paperwork. This was true up until about five minutes ago when I put on Icerberg radio. Funny how listening to your favorite Greenday tune from grade 8 (that's 8th grade for you finicky Americans out there) can completely dissolve your work ethic.
Not that I need much work ethic today. Thanksgiving is the favorite holiday of any hotel worker. After three or four months of high occupancy and cranky guests, this is the first weekend of the unofficial low season. Nobody travels to a business class hotel on the holidays, so this weekend is blissfully quiet. Add to that the fact that I brought cranberry herbal tea to work and my placidity level is way way up.
This relaxation could also have a lot to do with my aforementioned hiding out, or the fact that I finally did my laundry today. Things are bad when you pick up a pair of pants, do the sniff test, and realize that you just might have to wear jogging pants or boxer shorts outside today. Especially when it's chilly and rainy.
Speaking of chilly and rainy, the weather doesn't seem to be affecting me today. I don't think I really mind rainy days, just the cloudy, crappy grey ones. Rain is actually kind of nice. I love getting off work early in the AM and seeing a rainy, angry sky. Fast moving clouds are just neat.
Didn't get to see Joseph today, but just got reminded of him by way of a Sarah McLachlan (aka I hate Halifax cuz I'm petty) song. I know this is just pathetically clichéd for a gay couple, but she's sort of our relationship's house songstress. Not my fault or his, she's just been the person on the stereo both times we've gotten together. I'm surprised we didn't ditch her after the first time, but she doesn't seem to be a bad omen afterall.
Crystal's back from the south shore (bub) today, but I didnt' see her as I got her message too late. Turns out I missed movie night with Mr's Depp and Bloom. Curses and Death on that one. Instead Bri and I turned my bedroom into a psychiatry office and chatted for a bit. Also got to sit in my lazyboy for the first time since I moved. Sad that its' been covered in clothes and junk since Sept. 1st. The rest of my room's been okay, but I think everyone has that one piece of furniture that seems to have a magnetic affect on dirty clothes and unopened mail.
Is anybody out there studying this? Probably not, honestly physics students are so lazy.
Ugh. Can't write any more tonight. Madonna's on the radio now and nobody kills my creativity like her. Why do so many people think that all gay men love Madonna? That's almost as offensive as people who think we all love Barbara Streisand. What am I, 55? Should I be paying a lot more attention to London Life and Norwich Union commericals? Has anyone born after 1960 even seen Funny Girl? I haven't. I had to go to IMDB just to look up something she's been in!
I hope that debunks that myth once and for all.
Don't forget, no medical exam is neccessary!
I'm about to commit a gay man's cardinal sin. I am going to openly and proudly proclaim my hatred for bitchy queens. I've just had the extreme displeasure of having to throw a nasty drag queen and her boy toy out of my lobby. They weren't guests, and they were making out on the lobby couch so badly that we could hear it all the way over at the desk. When I asked them to knock it off and leave, I was told they were 'busy'.
Well, no shit. OF COURSE YOU'RE BUSY! YOU'RE BUSY RUTTING IN MY PLACE OF BUSINESS YOU STUPID FAUX CUNT!
Goddamn! I hate bitchy queens.
Anyway, some short tempered requests (the kind made with periods, not question marks) from me later, they vacated and now life is somewhat back to normal. Still I'm fixated on my latest obession: Why can't people just be civil? What's wrong with having a little manners, and maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of class? Now I'm as big a fan of inappropriate behaviour as any other self respecting early 20's pot smoking left leaning secular queer. But come on, if somebody asks you nicely to please take it outside, don't be a bitchy queen about it. Just calmly and politely pick your clothes up off the floor and make your way home with a little dignity.
Speaking of bitchy queens, (I'll so die for that later ;) I finally got to spend some quality illness free time alone with Joey. He let me ramble on about my increasing desire to go back to school, and had lots of great feedback since he's a SMU alumn himself. And he cooked me dinner to boot. Not sure yet what terrible things he's been up to, although there must be something to account for all this lovely behaviour. Even the hounds were somewhat well behaved. Must be a new moon or something.
Bri visited me at work tonight, a rare and welcome occurance. Funny how I always yell at people that Halifax is safe to walk around after dark yet worry anytime she goes outside alone after 8pm. Must be because she's pretty small.
Today's been full of excitement. On the way to work I saw four Vote for Victor signs! And at work, I found out that Desperate Housewives is made by the same guy who made Golden Girls! And it stars Teri Hatcher, who I've loved since before it became apparent that I really shouldn't be into her. How can I not watch this show? Aside from the fact that I don't know when it's on and am probably working...
So annoyed! Voteforvictor.ca doesn't work! I'm still voting for him, but my confidence has been severely shaken.
Maybe the whole internet is down. I'll have to check with Bean.
I'm sick to death of no one caring about politics! Contrary to apparently popular belief, gnorance is not bliss. I would like, someday, to have a political discussion with someone under the age of 75!
With that goal in mind, here are two blogs for you to check out. One gentleman I generally agree with. The other, in my humble opinion, is a complete whackjob. Feel free to guess who's who.
Bri, Joey and I were fully exposed to Da Ali G Show for the first time today. Definitely good times, but I have to say I'm not a big fan of Borat, the Kazakhstani TV personality. Funny, but not 'ha ha' funny. More than made up for though by the Ali G interviews.
An odd thing happened today at 1:30pm when there was a knock on my bedroom door. A very REM sleepy me mumbled some question and a man responded asking if 'we' could come in. While this sounds like the setup for a dream come true, it turned out to just be my landlord and some window measuring guy. This is super sweet in a very different way, as it looks like we might be getting new windows within the next two weeks! Our current ones are so old the glass is streaking, which I think only happens after a hundred years or so. Maybe this winter it will actually be colder outside the house than inside. Dare to dream.
I think I've decided for the time being to apply for school next September, rather than January. Given my university history it's probably best that I take my time and think it over first. Still I'm very excited to be considering school as a possibility again. I got an email from Dad warning me to be absolutely sure this time, which made me want to verbally destroy him despite his having a point. Didn't last long though as ended up writing him a nice letter back. I miss Dad a bunch lately, which is weird since we tend to get on each others nerves. We're way too much alike to spend too much time together.
Amanda and I are working together tonight and she's informed me that she's sleeping with a firefighter. Man, my jealousy knows no bounds! First name deleted due to stupid closetcaseness sleeps with a rickshaw runner, and now this! The only thing hotter than sleeping with a rickshaw runner or a fireman should be perfectly bloody obvious. I'll have to figure out a way to accomplish this so I can get back my hard earned feelings of unwarranted superiority.
And we watched Margaret Cho for two hours! Hilarity!
She found the winner for most tasteless bumper sticker of the year:
This car was made with tools, not chopsticks. Lovely huh? Just as (un)impressive as the postcard I saw where I guy had written the following:
Went on a boat tour today. Twenty people on board and I get sat by one autistic and one Down's. I'm a magnet. Yeah buddy, you're also an asshole.
No more week long absences from blogging. No more I say!
For as much as I enjoy writing at the best of times it's been super hard to muster up the energy and creativity to write the past few days. I guess blogging gets easier with practise but that it's not like riding a bike, to mix pseudo-proverbs. Blogging progress can be completely negated by a simple long weekend away from the keyboard.
Fortunately lots happened today to write about. I started the day by going straight from work to the dentist, expecting hateful drilling noises and dental dams that fly off my face. (True story, snapped off and flew right across the room. Dr. T was less than happy.) Turns out my dentist was feeling kindly/lazy this morning so he only kept me for 10 minutes! Fixed one small depression on one of my eyeteeth and sent me packing, sans lollypop.
My early dental parole also let me have my review in the morning, instead of having to trudge back to work after a minimum of sleep to be picked apart in the afternoon. Surprisingly enough I earned not only an E for Effort but a few gold stars as well! Excellent times, how fun it is to have sunshine blown up one's rear end.
A bus ride home and five hours of sleep later it was time for kitchen conversation with Bri. We discussed my oh so sudden desire to return to university after a three year absence. If I get accepted and can find funding this will be my fourth university, a fact I'm refusing to dwell upon. It's easier to ignore than the fact that after three universities I still have nothing more than a high school diploma, which is probably the cause of me sudden scholastic urges.
I checked out SMU today, since it's the only school in Halifax I haven't been to, and found out that I missed the application deadline for winter by one week. This could be a good thing as courses are probably much easier to sort out when you start in September, and this will also give me almost a year to make sure that this is what I want to do.
Crystal has convinced me to try applying now despite the deadline just so I don't kick myself all January for not applying. Besides, if I don't get accepted I'm only out $40, and if I do I can still put off going until September if I feel I need to.
Complicating things further (although not really as I'm kind of disinterested) is that at the end of my review it was hinted that a promotion could, could be coming my way in the new year. I'm not spending too much thought on this though as I'm becoming more and more certain that this isn't the industry I want to work in for the forseeable future. Not that I plan on letting my bosses in on this, just in case.
Hmm, suddenly hoping for many reasons that no managers here are reading my blog. This would be very bad, although an increase in my readership would be appreciated nonetheless.
One last fun experience to relate for today. I got on the bus to come to work and sat directly across the aisle (on one of those bloody aweful busses where the seats face each other) from a girl who looked vaguely familiar. This can be awkward enough when you both are giving that "Do I know you or am I just buzzing?" look, but today was made much worse when this girl called me by name and asked how I was.
I spent the next fifteen minutes locked in a stilted conversation with this girl. I still couldn't tell you who she was for the life of me, but I can tell you that I deserve and Emmy for my performance. I'm absolutely sure she doesn't know that I was completely blanking on her. Once she made mention of my hometown I was home free. There's only so many points of reference you can have when discussing a town of 1300 people.
The day suitably saved I continued on to work to mull over school, work, life, and other irritations. Thank gods I have five days worth of other people's blogs to catch up on or I might have to actually do some serious self examination.
I'll have to send the people at blogger.com a nice card, or maybe a flower.
In theory the whole point of taking a vacation, even a mini one, is to relax. This was my goal at the start of this past weekend, and to some extent is one I achieved. The only problem is that I relaxed too much. After five days of complete inactivity I have no ambition to do anything, and no patience with those who want to make me do things.
The timing of this lethargy couldn't be more inconvenient. Currently I'm facing seven days of work, a dentist appointment sure to feature loads of drilling and scraping, an employee review, and the daily pressures of coexisting with other human beings. Add to this mix my ongoing non-smoking binge and my apparently unbeatable cold and I'm in a swell state.
Tomorrow's employee review is particularly laughable. Of all times to have my performance reviewed. No chance of getting five stars, two thumbs up, or a smiley face sticker. Not even an e for effort today.
Ugh, too much dreary hate and death, emotionally speaking. Strange how five days of nothing turns into too much information to write about in one blog. So here's to tomorrow where I'll have only one day's idiocy to recount.
I love picking up the newspaper and being treated to good news for a change. Like today, when it's being reported that Russia is going to ratify the Kyoto Accords. I don't care if you're bored by the news or by politics, this is COOL. Literally, as it means we can look forward to a lot less global warming. Sure the world's biggest polluter (our esteemed neighbours to the south) still refuse to sign, but so what? It's looking more and more like they enjoy being on the wrong side of the issues. If they want to keep isolating themselves and alienating the rest of us, that's just peachy keen jelly bean. Besides, how cool and liberal does Canada look by comparison? Even my endearingly backward province has just legalized gay marriage. How's your progressive? As far as I'm concerned America can just keep on making us look better and better. (Because we are.) Today's been a pretty nice day overall, even good world news aside. On the smaller scale, I got about 7 hours of sleep, followed by a fresh batch of groceries. Grocery shopping is a detestable chore but the end result is definitely worth the hassle. Especially when it includes 2 bite brownies that I'm sure are good for me emotionally, if not physically. After supper I finally got to indulge myself in a little Joey time, which had been greatly missed during my week long quarantine. This would have been more enjoyable had it been just the two of us, but we had choice company in the form of Melissa. Of all Joey's friends, she is not only the least vile but also the most excellent. (With the possible exception of Christina, who is in a special category all her own.) Much bonding took place in the way of school reminiscing and ex-prof bashing. Also I was presented with the rare opportunity to offer valid relationship advise, and observe the immediate after effects. I'm pleased to say both parties are doing very well. My advise was actually given off the cuff in that I didn't even realize I was giving it, merely making an observation. Still I was rewarded with a nice thank you afterwards. As I said, Melissa is choice company. Joey-time was lovely, although it will undoubtedly be better once I am rested and fully recovered. Making my day all the better is the fact that rest and relaxation is only five hours away. A five day weekend should be the perfect cure all. Going home to visit Ma and Pa is an option for at least two of these days, but not one that I think I'll take. After being ill for so long travel is probably not a good idea. Sleeping and vegging, then repeating, sounds like a much better plan. Besides, I need some love and affection, and not the kind you get from a visit to your parents. I hate to finish off with a piece of bad news, but something worse than Trading Spouces has happened to television. I learned today that Golden Girls, the comedic staple that first introduced me to the word slut at the tender age of 12, has been taken off Prime and replaced with vapid Hollywood entertainment blather. The idiot box has just gotten a whole lot more so, another sign that tv is a medium on it's last legs. Our only hope rests in quality blogs that can inform and educate todays youth of the glories of television past. Picture it, Sicily, 1992... No wait, I guess I can't. ~Attila
Today was grey in every sense of the word. It was rainy, cloudy, and nothing exciting (good or bad) really happened. Days like this are best spent in bed, which I finally got to do for 8 solid hours. I've decided that sleep is the best tactic in my ongoing war with my cold. One more day spent in the company of my pillow may actually make me feel human again.
Bri was most grey today too, which always brings me down a bit. Crys on the other hand was uncharacteristically sunny. Perhaps her weather/mood ratio works in reverse? Whatever the reason I'm glad she's coming out of her funk.
Aside from sleep very little was accomplished by me today. Haley called shortly after I awoke (about 6pm) and invited me over for company and cheezy comedy. Grey-ness was subsequently replaced by Family Guy and a sort of dream sequence glow, for a short while. Spent early evening in pleasant mellowness and returned home to Bri and reality tv of appalingly bad quality.
Television has really reached the latest in a long series of new lows, this time in the form of "Trading Spouses". Not only does this program offer up some of the most unappealing specimens of middle America, but it also dares to bastardize the name of one of television's greatest triumps.
Ah the loveliness that is Paige Davis and co.
Soon after Amanda arrived to rescue me from the horrors of r.t.v. and we ventured forth to work together. The walk gave me (lots) of time to reflect on the day's major accomplishments:
1. Slept tonnes.
2. Broke umbrella beyond repair.
-End of List-
Highly unproductive day, which I will blame entirely on general grey-ness. Absolutely uninspiring. Also there was a total lack of Joey today, as he had been co-opted by his tiny friend before I even got out of bed. Bright spot on the horizon for today: New plan to kidnap Joey for much of this coming weekend. Undoubtedly that most colourful cat will purge my world of grey in record time.
Until then, I'm monochromatically yours,
I took yesterday off work due to being ridiculously tired and sick. Went to bed about 1:30am (which is crazy early for me), intending to sleep until noon or six pm or some deliciously late hour.
Absolutely no luck on this front as Mrs. Kettle called at 9am to say the whole fam was in town. Ungodly. Surprise visits (or not quite surprise but with little notice) are excellent, but only when they occur at reasonable times. 9am is not a reasonable time for man or beast. (or at least not for this man/beast)
As a result I am still mildly unwell and unable to pen my new self-help book "Snoozing your way to better health and personal satisfaction". Very upset about this as it is surely a best seller waiting to happen.
Instead, I piled into the van with the rest of the fam and retreated to a semi-great veggie restaurant downtown. Ended up paying for meal for six out of my own pocket out of possibly misguided desire to feel like a saint child. Worked somewhat although I would feel much better about the situation if my cc hadn't declined. (Hateful Visa. Feel like reenacting last scenes of Fight Club. If unsure, watch immediately.) Entire dining experience has been further tainted by resulting intestinal distress. Tarted-up month old tofu is undoubtedly to blame.
Next onto the mall for capitalist society therapy. Against all better judgment SisterGirl and I ended our self-enforced ban on the Sears Outlet Store. Found no good buys as everything in store was infected with pleats. I've finally figured out where all the world's pleats fled after 1992. Sears Outlet Store / Pleat Refugee Centre. Arnold Palmer eat my rear.
Many minutes of fruitless shoe searching (so much easier than soul searching. Hmm. Almost willing to explore puns involved in 'sole searching' but not quite) followed by mall related miracle.
Found: 1 pair wicked-ass pants on sale for $19, marked down from $99! Some poor soul attempted to hide them behind ugly shirts for later purchase, but now they are all mine. I am entirely convinced that I can conquer the world in these pants. (Note: start on this plan as soon as pants are hemmed.) Plus they make my Arnold Palmer dining experience rear look great. Bonuses abound.
But then back to sickness and exhaustion, relieved only by ditching fam and deefing with SisterGirl. An excellent plan, followed by thrown together pita pizzas and lentil soup. The Boy showed in time for soup, bringing one of the Hounds with him. So much fun to have a hound in the house. As long as it's one that doesn't pee every time it sees me. That's understandably less fun. Yo quiero chihuahuas that don't piss on me constantly.
Supper and social hour was followed by a brief nap made all the better by the humidifier that is attempting to cure my cold. Waking up in a room that's hot and steamy and rain-forestesque while knowing on a deeper level that it's fall and crisp-y outside is oddly satisfying.
Unfortunately a 45 minute nap followed by an 8 hour night shift is not satisfying. It's mentally exhausting and results in rambling blogs entries containing little insight and no point.
For occasionally more comprehensible blogs, see SisterGirl's Blog or Rural Chic's Blog.
Here's wishing you all health, wealth, and un-expired tofu products.
Apparently the end is nigh (sp?), which is very inconvenient since I've just started my new blog.
It's Judgement(al) Day, and everyone is joining in the fun!
Like the pizza delivery man, who after knowing me for five seconds, told me I need to learn to relax. (Granted I was threatening to do violence to drunk loiterers outside, but that's hardly the point here.)
The point, for those who missed it (they come quick around here and don't stay for long. Pay attention now!) is: How does one offer lifestyle advise after five seconds? Even Dr. Phil waits until after the first commercial. Perhaps if life had commercial breaks (I'm sure somebody is working on this) people would pause and think about these things before opening their mouths. Maybe there's an upside to rampant commercialism after all?
No. Definitely not.
Commercialism bugs me, but not as much as people who dispense with the judgement ad nauseum. Just spoke with The Boy and he has had a similar disturbing run in. One of his more vile friends actually took a cigarette out of his mouth, threw it on the ground, and said something to the effect of "I'm concerned about your smoking habit. It hurts me that you're smoking."
This is something that has to stop. Concern for a friend? Wonderful. Encouraging people to be healthy? Fantastic. Claiming to be hurt by another persons actions that do not affect you in any way (especially since they were outside in the wind at the time) simply because you disapprove of said actions?
Uncool. So very uncool. When was the last time you heard someone say "I'm hurt that you part your hair on the left." or "It hurts me that you don't floss."? (If anybody has actually heard these examples said with any degree of seriousness, please take appropriate action immediately.)
I should beg and plead for people to stop judging before it's too late, but then I would have to go back and delete the majority of this blog. Seeing as it's almost five in the morning and I'm quickly running out of steam (see venom.), I don't think I'll bother.
Judgement(al) Day has definitely arrived. I hope you're all wearing clean underwear.