Monday, October 31, 2005
Baby Got Back
Some status changes. I called my friend and asked her why we weren't talking. She said she was just taking a break. Then we talked for like 4 hours. I think the air has been cleared quite a bit, but I still feel cool towards her. When I left her house she hugged me and wouldn't let go.
We went to a party on Saturday night that had the potential to get really crazy and fun but Nick wanted to leave and do something else, so after driving someone home I went home too. There was a bartender at the party who was soooo cute. He looked like blond Jake Gyllenhaal. He winked at me. I wanted to ask him if he liked girls.
It was beautiful weather all weekend... so warm and sunny. I took some longer walks with the dog, then she rolled in something disgusting so I gave her a bath on Sunday.
Some status changes. I called my friend and asked her why we weren't talking. She said she was just taking a break. Then we talked for like 4 hours. I think the air has been cleared quite a bit, but I still feel cool towards her. When I left her house she hugged me and wouldn't let go.
We went to a party on Saturday night that had the potential to get really crazy and fun but Nick wanted to leave and do something else, so after driving someone home I went home too. There was a bartender at the party who was soooo cute. He looked like blond Jake Gyllenhaal. He winked at me. I wanted to ask him if he liked girls.
It was beautiful weather all weekend... so warm and sunny. I took some longer walks with the dog, then she rolled in something disgusting so I gave her a bath on Sunday.
Monday, October 24, 2005
The Bad Cat Dream
I've had this dream at least three times, the latest time being this morning (it's 4:30am on Monday). The dream is I'm the same age and person I am now, and I drive home (childhood home) from someplace and it takes a long time, lots of highway driving, night driving, etc. I get home and everything is perfect. The neighbourhood is leafy and green. All the old neighbours are still all the old neighbours. Our Town.
In this morning's dream I arrived home alone except for my dog. There I found all the bank's executives waiting in long lines which extended outside the house and down the block. They were waiting to speak to someone in my house (don't know who exactly). My mom was there and so was my dad but he seemed to be sick - the stage where he was up and around but generally wearing a bathrobe and unable to speak. I had left my cats in the care of my mom. This is the part of the dream that's terrible. For some reason there's a huge feral cat population in the ravine behind the house (this part of the dream may be due to our former neighbours who took in stray animals and had the kind of house you see on television where people in hazmat suits have to come in and junk everything, and the city leaves you notes that say clean up or else. The reality was, the neighbours had lots of money because instead of cleaning and keeping up their house and property they just used to renovate and landscape every couple of years. They used to get the most expensive reno companies and landscapers in town, rather than clean the floor or pick up the shit in the backyard).
Anyway, the feral cats keep trying to sneak into the house and my mom feeds them, and she leaves all the doors open and of course my stupid indoors-all-their-lives cats have wandered away and mom doesn't know how long they've been gone. So there's cats all over the place and we can't get rid of them and my kitties may be flattened on an affluent street somewhere. Very tense. And my sister is usually there but she can't or won't help because she's looking after my dad. And my mom just sits there angrily because she knows we always blame her for everything.
And the bank executives wait patiently in line for whatever they're waiting for so I speak to them and they feel satisfied and leave and then I become a bank executive myself but I'm dreadfully upset over my cats but I don't show it.
It's the kind of dream where I'm in my old house with my parents but instead of feeling that deep longing I usually do, I feel stress and dread.
I've had this dream at least three times, the latest time being this morning (it's 4:30am on Monday). The dream is I'm the same age and person I am now, and I drive home (childhood home) from someplace and it takes a long time, lots of highway driving, night driving, etc. I get home and everything is perfect. The neighbourhood is leafy and green. All the old neighbours are still all the old neighbours. Our Town.
In this morning's dream I arrived home alone except for my dog. There I found all the bank's executives waiting in long lines which extended outside the house and down the block. They were waiting to speak to someone in my house (don't know who exactly). My mom was there and so was my dad but he seemed to be sick - the stage where he was up and around but generally wearing a bathrobe and unable to speak. I had left my cats in the care of my mom. This is the part of the dream that's terrible. For some reason there's a huge feral cat population in the ravine behind the house (this part of the dream may be due to our former neighbours who took in stray animals and had the kind of house you see on television where people in hazmat suits have to come in and junk everything, and the city leaves you notes that say clean up or else. The reality was, the neighbours had lots of money because instead of cleaning and keeping up their house and property they just used to renovate and landscape every couple of years. They used to get the most expensive reno companies and landscapers in town, rather than clean the floor or pick up the shit in the backyard).
Anyway, the feral cats keep trying to sneak into the house and my mom feeds them, and she leaves all the doors open and of course my stupid indoors-all-their-lives cats have wandered away and mom doesn't know how long they've been gone. So there's cats all over the place and we can't get rid of them and my kitties may be flattened on an affluent street somewhere. Very tense. And my sister is usually there but she can't or won't help because she's looking after my dad. And my mom just sits there angrily because she knows we always blame her for everything.
And the bank executives wait patiently in line for whatever they're waiting for so I speak to them and they feel satisfied and leave and then I become a bank executive myself but I'm dreadfully upset over my cats but I don't show it.
It's the kind of dream where I'm in my old house with my parents but instead of feeling that deep longing I usually do, I feel stress and dread.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
The Breast Police
The breast police
They live inside of my head
The breast police
They come to me in my bed
The breast police
They’re coming to arrest me, oh no.
The breast police
They live inside of my head
The breast police
They come to me in my bed
The breast police
They’re coming to arrest me, oh no.
Waddup?
Since my thing with my friend (her, anger rising over dog-on-couch incident; me, clueless), I have asked her in a polite email to please speak to me about any other outstanding issues, me not wishing to be subjected to another angry soliloquy, if she wishes. That was a few days ago, and no word yet. Still feeling light about everything. She left me some voicemails about a planned dinner that I was invited to. I declined, but left a corresponding message for her that she owes me $200 + tax because I finally got the dent in my car fixed. She backed into me last winter.
My mother-in-law had a flip out because when her moving bill finally came she/we realized that the quote was for each way, basically doubling the amount we planned for. After weeks of back and forth and me checking over all the notes and quotes and the bill with a fine-toothed comb, the mover guy knocked a few hundred dollars off and gave us two new quotes - $1900 if we paid cash or $2300 if we wrote a cheque. Another week of back-and-forth and my mother-in-law decided that to pay cash was too dangerous so she asked me to mail them a cheque, which I did. Then she gave me a cheque, which I deposited. This whole moving thing (which happened back in June and was 100% arranged be me) was deeply stressful for me. I think my mother-in-law should be living in seniors' housing with the possibility for an easy transition to assisted living. But now, she's moved to the co-op townhouse 2 doors down which is still too large for 1 person. And she still has far too much stuff. Her new place is still full of her old crap even though we spent months and months purging. She won't even go on a waiting list for seniors' housing. Waiting for a crisis I guess. FUCKING SENIORS!
Since hardscaping the backyard our neighbours on one side are completely exposed to us via the chain link fence. Two nights ago I went with them to Home Depot to pay for new fencing. The dude next door is going to build the fence this weekend. I was going to go to a hockey tourney in Midland (but not play), but instead I want to be around for the fence.
Work is crazy busy as a standard now. I have moved fulltime onto projects and my new "assistant" starts Monday. I miss my old "assistant" and dread the thought of having to train someone new. I say "assistant" because the guy in the summer was a uni student and the guy coming on Monday is doing a year long internship with us. So, either way, these people are not permanent.
Nick and I finally booked a weekend to Chicago. I'm excited to visit the city that's currently hosting Team Aniston. Go Jen and Vince, may your rebound canoodling endure. Things to do in Chicago: eat beef, see "architecture", spend money. Can't wait!
A friend has started up a meal preparation business. I bought 6 days of 3 meals + 1 snack (A LOT cheaper than the zone meal delivery). I am about halfway through the 6 days. It's all vegetarian with a lot of the stuff actually being full-on vegan. It's very nice but I've been stinking up the joint with the worst gas in the history of... gas. Unreal. Feel very healthy though.
Since my thing with my friend (her, anger rising over dog-on-couch incident; me, clueless), I have asked her in a polite email to please speak to me about any other outstanding issues, me not wishing to be subjected to another angry soliloquy, if she wishes. That was a few days ago, and no word yet. Still feeling light about everything. She left me some voicemails about a planned dinner that I was invited to. I declined, but left a corresponding message for her that she owes me $200 + tax because I finally got the dent in my car fixed. She backed into me last winter.
My mother-in-law had a flip out because when her moving bill finally came she/we realized that the quote was for each way, basically doubling the amount we planned for. After weeks of back and forth and me checking over all the notes and quotes and the bill with a fine-toothed comb, the mover guy knocked a few hundred dollars off and gave us two new quotes - $1900 if we paid cash or $2300 if we wrote a cheque. Another week of back-and-forth and my mother-in-law decided that to pay cash was too dangerous so she asked me to mail them a cheque, which I did. Then she gave me a cheque, which I deposited. This whole moving thing (which happened back in June and was 100% arranged be me) was deeply stressful for me. I think my mother-in-law should be living in seniors' housing with the possibility for an easy transition to assisted living. But now, she's moved to the co-op townhouse 2 doors down which is still too large for 1 person. And she still has far too much stuff. Her new place is still full of her old crap even though we spent months and months purging. She won't even go on a waiting list for seniors' housing. Waiting for a crisis I guess. FUCKING SENIORS!
Since hardscaping the backyard our neighbours on one side are completely exposed to us via the chain link fence. Two nights ago I went with them to Home Depot to pay for new fencing. The dude next door is going to build the fence this weekend. I was going to go to a hockey tourney in Midland (but not play), but instead I want to be around for the fence.
Work is crazy busy as a standard now. I have moved fulltime onto projects and my new "assistant" starts Monday. I miss my old "assistant" and dread the thought of having to train someone new. I say "assistant" because the guy in the summer was a uni student and the guy coming on Monday is doing a year long internship with us. So, either way, these people are not permanent.
Nick and I finally booked a weekend to Chicago. I'm excited to visit the city that's currently hosting Team Aniston. Go Jen and Vince, may your rebound canoodling endure. Things to do in Chicago: eat beef, see "architecture", spend money. Can't wait!
A friend has started up a meal preparation business. I bought 6 days of 3 meals + 1 snack (A LOT cheaper than the zone meal delivery). I am about halfway through the 6 days. It's all vegetarian with a lot of the stuff actually being full-on vegan. It's very nice but I've been stinking up the joint with the worst gas in the history of... gas. Unreal. Feel very healthy though.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Mormons OK
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Melts In Your Mouth, Not In Your Hand
I had a tricky weekend over Thanksgiving. First of all, I hate holidays. I hate anything with a religious connotation. But I love paid time off from work. Hooray!
So I get all kinds of great offers from people this past weekend because Nick's in London partying with his banker and pr boyz (Aussie rules football, Maple Leaf Pub, Uncle Harold, etc.), but I picked the wrong thing to do. I got to my friend's parent's place on Saturday afternoon. They asked me to bring the dog. I could've left the dog with my neighbour. I almost did... but thought it might be fun to bring her. Well long story short, my friend is annoyed with me all weekend and on Monday morning (early!) she confronts me in that special way she has. I say confront because it's not like a conversation, which would imply two-way communication. This is like an angry speech, a devastating little monologue where the wind is knocked out of you and you can't respond because of your shock and surprise. I left literally minutes later wondering what the hell happened. It turns out she's angry and "embarrassed for me" because my dog has been getting up on her couch and her parent's couch for two years. I make the dog get off, but sometimes she jumps back up, and then they say it's ok. My bad. This isn't like for days on end, maybe for an hour. The friend's been feeling this way for two years and felt the need to let me have it in a little blowout on Monday morning. I'm glad she finally got this off her chest. However, it would've been nicer to be spoken to like an autonomous adult, not an employee. She's also pissed that she dropped hints and I never picked up on them. She said I "should've known better". I know my learning style is that you have to tell me something in a direct manner. I am not too good at picking up obtuse hints and nuances, and I'm also sadly unskilled at reading minds. So... I was glad to get out of there to a more neutral place, like the highway.
At home I spent the day with my brother. That night I left the friend a message to the effect of "thanks for letting me know, it sounded like it was bothering you a long time. Talk to you later." I haven't heard from her since. Maybe this will be a breakup... don't know. It's not bothering me at all actually. Feeling rather free...
I had a tricky weekend over Thanksgiving. First of all, I hate holidays. I hate anything with a religious connotation. But I love paid time off from work. Hooray!
So I get all kinds of great offers from people this past weekend because Nick's in London partying with his banker and pr boyz (Aussie rules football, Maple Leaf Pub, Uncle Harold, etc.), but I picked the wrong thing to do. I got to my friend's parent's place on Saturday afternoon. They asked me to bring the dog. I could've left the dog with my neighbour. I almost did... but thought it might be fun to bring her. Well long story short, my friend is annoyed with me all weekend and on Monday morning (early!) she confronts me in that special way she has. I say confront because it's not like a conversation, which would imply two-way communication. This is like an angry speech, a devastating little monologue where the wind is knocked out of you and you can't respond because of your shock and surprise. I left literally minutes later wondering what the hell happened. It turns out she's angry and "embarrassed for me" because my dog has been getting up on her couch and her parent's couch for two years. I make the dog get off, but sometimes she jumps back up, and then they say it's ok. My bad. This isn't like for days on end, maybe for an hour. The friend's been feeling this way for two years and felt the need to let me have it in a little blowout on Monday morning. I'm glad she finally got this off her chest. However, it would've been nicer to be spoken to like an autonomous adult, not an employee. She's also pissed that she dropped hints and I never picked up on them. She said I "should've known better". I know my learning style is that you have to tell me something in a direct manner. I am not too good at picking up obtuse hints and nuances, and I'm also sadly unskilled at reading minds. So... I was glad to get out of there to a more neutral place, like the highway.
At home I spent the day with my brother. That night I left the friend a message to the effect of "thanks for letting me know, it sounded like it was bothering you a long time. Talk to you later." I haven't heard from her since. Maybe this will be a breakup... don't know. It's not bothering me at all actually. Feeling rather free...
Friday, October 07, 2005
Street Detritus
Most every morning I come across Eastern Ave. where it turns into Richmond St. I've got to go up a ramp at the bottom of Broadview and then down a ramp, coming down over the end of King St., and I come out at Parliament. That's how we get to work. Well for about a week there's been a crime scene pylon sitting out there on the ramp. Some poor fuckin cop is out there pondering, "Now where in the hell is number 17? That's my whole case, man."
It's like when you're driving along the QE. That's a tight, fast, straight highway. You have got to drive close to all the cars around you. It never fails when I'm driving down that highway I see some fuckin shoe at the side of the road. Where's the other shoe?? Where's the dude whose shoe it is? When someone's hit by a car they're shoes always go flying off. It's creepy.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Why I Love The Internet - Kate Moss Doing Coke
Here's the video with charmingly serious play-by-play commentary in Italian no less. It's kind of a lengthy video but bear with it because it's cute at times, i.e., Kate Moss tells somebody named Ronnie to stop doing something and then mutters, "You're so gay." Also they drink alcohol and smoke weed. The best though is how the commentator says "Babyshambles" ("BEYbee-a-shambolls"). By the way, I could care less that she's a too-thin model who does coke, is in rehab in Arizona, has a kid, and whose boyfriend is an even bigger druggie rock "star". I just don't care, but who in the hell lets themselves be video'd whilst doing these things? Have these people never heard of Paris Hilton?
Here's the video with charmingly serious play-by-play commentary in Italian no less. It's kind of a lengthy video but bear with it because it's cute at times, i.e., Kate Moss tells somebody named Ronnie to stop doing something and then mutters, "You're so gay." Also they drink alcohol and smoke weed. The best though is how the commentator says "Babyshambles" ("BEYbee-a-shambolls"). By the way, I could care less that she's a too-thin model who does coke, is in rehab in Arizona, has a kid, and whose boyfriend is an even bigger druggie rock "star". I just don't care, but who in the hell lets themselves be video'd whilst doing these things? Have these people never heard of Paris Hilton?
Sunday, October 02, 2005
I Kicked It With 17 Year Old Boyz
That's really the middle of this crazy story, but I like it as a byline. The title should really be... I don't know, Congratulations Dirty Skirts, or Dirty Skirts Party Like Fuck And Are Fucking Hot. Something like that.
( I swear the Chinese guy across the street is going to buy a gun and shoot his wife. They are having another screaming row but as usual, the topic is a mystery.)
Yeah, another hockey party last night. Yesterday I woke up early a little anxious because I was supposed to bring a main veggie-friendly dish to this pot luck. I walked party puppy and then got the dry cleaning and then went to the grocery store. I bought lasagna fixins and some pie stuff. I made a gigantic veggie lasagna. First layer - portobello mushrooms and tomato sauce. Second layer - sauteed diced carrots, onions and grape tomatoes tossed in salt and pepper. Third layer - spinach, ricotta cheese and garlic. Fourth layer - diced cubanelle peppers, 4-cheese combo, green and yellow zucchini slices. Fifth layer - mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce. All this in a giant foil roasting pan. Can you dig it? Plus a sweet potato pie made from scratch and real whipped cream.
I also brought over 3 rockin cds, tonnes of leftover booze from our party last weekend and a bouquet of flowers from my garden. I am a good fuckin party guest.
On the way out the door I changed my rather nice Browns boots with the 2-inch heels for my blue Converse All-Stars. I think this change gave me good luck for the rest of the night. I also wore the Freya bra that's ugly but makes my tits look great. Also no panties. All this for an all-girl party.
Alexa's whole house is wired for sound. There was a remote in the bathroom that I used every time I took a pee to play my favourite songs. I also cranked the volume every chance I got.
I brought cans of 50. A few of us decided to shotgun them out in the backyard. On the way back there Julie stepped on a dead rat that was covered in maggots. A lot of screaming ensued. I whipped the rat against the corner of the fence. Julie had dead rat goo all over her sock so she took it off. She then stayed with one foot bare the rest of the night. When we shotgunned the beers we got beer all over our faces and hair and chests. Somehow I remember it being a lot easier when I was in university.
Upshot is - some of us got pretty loaded. Somehow I ended up running down the street with Meghan to get smokes, except we had different ideas about how to get the smokes. I thought we would go to a store and buy smokes, she wanted to bum 3 smokes. The first two guys she approached wanted to give us pot (they didn't have cigarettes). The third guy we approached gave us all the smokes we wanted. We ran back and smoked them against the side of the house. A lot of kids were passing by. Every time a group of boys walked by Meghan yelled at them, "How old are you?" For some reason it seemed hilarious. The kids were all abandoning a park party and going to someone's house where the parents were away. Meghan's yelling netted us some high school guys who amused us for a good hour. They kept trying to guess how old we were ("22? 23?" Bless!) and we kept screaming with laughter. We looked at their real IDs and fake IDs. I asked the one guy Matt if he had a girlfriend and he confided that we was "workin on it". The other guy said he really liked my shoes and I got all aw shucks about it. We told them that we would show them our tits if they would make out for 5 seconds (they wouldn't).
We told them we're hockey players and I think they were a little in awe. Kathy eventually came outside and made them leave, but not until I showed Matt the dead rat and I picked it up for him. When we left them and returned inside they fooled around with the doorbell for a while and pleaded with us through the open window, but eventually they fucked off, and I have to admit, I was a tiny bit disappointed.
Then we sang around the piano for a while. Then the party broke up and a few of us when to a bar close by (Meghan left to go to another party -- BOO!). I got a drive home with someone who wasn't drinking but who stayed the entire night, what a trooper! I came home at 2, had sex, woke up at 6, walked the dog, and was still smashed. I am sure I didn't look so great in the harsh light of day with expensive makeup in ugly streaks under my eyes. But my hair still looked great. Beer makes amazing hair gel.
Read paper, made bacon whilst in underwear, drank coffee, had more sex and now am writing these brief notes to the world. I don't know what's worse - bumming smokes with a hot 22 year old from losers in line at a Yonge-Eg bar, or *almost* showing my tits (a la Courtney Love) to two 17 year olds who like my shoes. I ask you.
That's really the middle of this crazy story, but I like it as a byline. The title should really be... I don't know, Congratulations Dirty Skirts, or Dirty Skirts Party Like Fuck And Are Fucking Hot. Something like that.
( I swear the Chinese guy across the street is going to buy a gun and shoot his wife. They are having another screaming row but as usual, the topic is a mystery.)
Yeah, another hockey party last night. Yesterday I woke up early a little anxious because I was supposed to bring a main veggie-friendly dish to this pot luck. I walked party puppy and then got the dry cleaning and then went to the grocery store. I bought lasagna fixins and some pie stuff. I made a gigantic veggie lasagna. First layer - portobello mushrooms and tomato sauce. Second layer - sauteed diced carrots, onions and grape tomatoes tossed in salt and pepper. Third layer - spinach, ricotta cheese and garlic. Fourth layer - diced cubanelle peppers, 4-cheese combo, green and yellow zucchini slices. Fifth layer - mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce. All this in a giant foil roasting pan. Can you dig it? Plus a sweet potato pie made from scratch and real whipped cream.
I also brought over 3 rockin cds, tonnes of leftover booze from our party last weekend and a bouquet of flowers from my garden. I am a good fuckin party guest.
On the way out the door I changed my rather nice Browns boots with the 2-inch heels for my blue Converse All-Stars. I think this change gave me good luck for the rest of the night. I also wore the Freya bra that's ugly but makes my tits look great. Also no panties. All this for an all-girl party.
Alexa's whole house is wired for sound. There was a remote in the bathroom that I used every time I took a pee to play my favourite songs. I also cranked the volume every chance I got.
I brought cans of 50. A few of us decided to shotgun them out in the backyard. On the way back there Julie stepped on a dead rat that was covered in maggots. A lot of screaming ensued. I whipped the rat against the corner of the fence. Julie had dead rat goo all over her sock so she took it off. She then stayed with one foot bare the rest of the night. When we shotgunned the beers we got beer all over our faces and hair and chests. Somehow I remember it being a lot easier when I was in university.
Upshot is - some of us got pretty loaded. Somehow I ended up running down the street with Meghan to get smokes, except we had different ideas about how to get the smokes. I thought we would go to a store and buy smokes, she wanted to bum 3 smokes. The first two guys she approached wanted to give us pot (they didn't have cigarettes). The third guy we approached gave us all the smokes we wanted. We ran back and smoked them against the side of the house. A lot of kids were passing by. Every time a group of boys walked by Meghan yelled at them, "How old are you?" For some reason it seemed hilarious. The kids were all abandoning a park party and going to someone's house where the parents were away. Meghan's yelling netted us some high school guys who amused us for a good hour. They kept trying to guess how old we were ("22? 23?" Bless!) and we kept screaming with laughter. We looked at their real IDs and fake IDs. I asked the one guy Matt if he had a girlfriend and he confided that we was "workin on it". The other guy said he really liked my shoes and I got all aw shucks about it. We told them that we would show them our tits if they would make out for 5 seconds (they wouldn't).
We told them we're hockey players and I think they were a little in awe. Kathy eventually came outside and made them leave, but not until I showed Matt the dead rat and I picked it up for him. When we left them and returned inside they fooled around with the doorbell for a while and pleaded with us through the open window, but eventually they fucked off, and I have to admit, I was a tiny bit disappointed.
Then we sang around the piano for a while. Then the party broke up and a few of us when to a bar close by (Meghan left to go to another party -- BOO!). I got a drive home with someone who wasn't drinking but who stayed the entire night, what a trooper! I came home at 2, had sex, woke up at 6, walked the dog, and was still smashed. I am sure I didn't look so great in the harsh light of day with expensive makeup in ugly streaks under my eyes. But my hair still looked great. Beer makes amazing hair gel.
Read paper, made bacon whilst in underwear, drank coffee, had more sex and now am writing these brief notes to the world. I don't know what's worse - bumming smokes with a hot 22 year old from losers in line at a Yonge-Eg bar, or *almost* showing my tits (a la Courtney Love) to two 17 year olds who like my shoes. I ask you.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
I heart the Rushmore Beekeepers
