it's a love affair - mainly jesus and my hotrod

so we went to this three day festival right - me, mike b, his friend l-o and the kiddo. perhaps when, five minutes down the road, i realized i had forgotten the tent i should have taken it as an inauspicious sign, but heck, what's a road trip without a few adventures, right?

right.

ahem.

part one - friday
so after returning for the tent, we made it across the border with no real hitches. we hit a couple o' parking lots on the freeway, and stopped at an albertsons for provisions (and when i say provisions, i mean beer. clearly.) (ok we may have bought some apples and peanut butter too. but i digress.) we arrived at the gorge on a beautiful friday evening and fell into what became the rhythm of the weekend - missing bands in favour of campground comradarie. we set up the tents, threw the beer in the cooler (no room for food. good sign.) and made friends with the neighbours. so interesting that we'd driven five hours deep into another country only to find ourselves surrounded by albertans. le sigh.

now being my raspberry self, i immediately developed a crush on one of them. go me. sadly, i'd sworn off men and unnecessary nudity for the weekend, given the presence of the kiddo. i did, however, manage to procure his email address by the end of the weekend and, now that i've translated the drunken chicken scratch in my journal, i've sent him a quick note to say hello. perhaps a roadtrip to edmonton is in the works for the summer, hm?)aaaanyhooo..... so we settle in to drink some beer, having come to grips with the fact that we will be missing some of the bands playing friday night (and when i say some, i mean all save NIN). the calgary girls in the tent to our right had been abandoned by their friends, who were in charge of bringing the beer, so we adopted them and poured liquor down their throats. ah the unifying properties of sweet sweet alcohol never fail to amaze me... as it got dark, we tucked our things away and headed off down to the ampitheatre. as we walked down, the kiddo had a bit of a vomit (another theme for the weekend), but reaching the show was pretty uneventful.

inside, however, it was kind of a gong show. a small order of curly fries was $5.50US. beer was $8.25. there were drunken people everywhere and vomit on the ground (see, toldya). we picked up some burgers etc as a makeshift dinner and were walking down to the stage when we passed by some guy who was pretty much twitching on the ground. the kiddo and i stopped to see if he was ok - his eyes were nearly rolling back in his head. we sat him up, the kiddo handed him the remaining half of his burger, and we watched him eat it, then continued on our way. who the hell leaves their friends like that? i don't get people.
anyway, we made it to within about 40ft of the stage - NIN put on a great show: all sorts of lights and smoke and spectacle. he did, however, pretend to play the keyboards during one of his songs (hurt, i think) - his keyboard player was hidden in the darkness at the back of the stage, but trent's hands were clearly not moving in time to the music. after the show we herded back to the campground and met up with our edmontonian friends (the calgary girls had succumbed to beer for dinner and passed out by the time we returned), and got to bed.

next: saturday - nature's wrath and ben harper....

spam bukowski

Anthem Anthem
mad...
Tuesday Channel Fuck
impacted
capital churning impacted capital churning
newly recruits witnessed firepower
backIron copy
bumping tapings Youre look.
Property unleashes Property unleashes

my fifty mission cap

things learned this weekend

emergency rain ponchos - best investment ever

trent reznor fake-plays the piano on stage

you should never hand the only set of car keys to me when i'm panicked /distracted by a projectile vomitting kiddo. i will lose them.

it is humanly possible to go for distance when puking

there are no taxies in quincy, washington

i heart london gourmet brand blueberry trailmix

people from alberta aren't that bad.

the walls at the 'country cabin' motel (in quincy washington) are really not very thick at all.

i can, indeed, wear my contacts day and night for three days.

ok that's all for now. i need to make my eyes not wear plastic bits, and i need to go to sleep. someone, somewhere needs to write an epic poem about my last 26 hours. you'll understand tomorrow..... :)

bunk skunk trunk

i will write you in the style of the raspberry, to pretend it's her. it's not though, it's me again. i'm in charge of keeping posts in this blog so it keeps the hits and it keeps it's readers. i also guess i need to keep the style and tradition you all have come to expect in raspberry land.

you know she once went into my blog and posted about her sexual encounter in a car? i told her to be dirty and shit, and she pulled through in flying colors. so in that sense i will tell you about ridley's first time. you know i'm not even doing this for you, i'm doing this for rasp really, cuz i know she'll get a kick out of it. but i hope you appreciate it.

ok my first came when i was 19. i know, shitty. especially when all my friends were like "dude i had some major sex the other day, man it was banging!" you know they're problaby full of shit, but you believe it anyways eh? i then you wonder "how do I get that?" and "how does it even feel?"and then shit becomes depressing, and then you act like an idiot. man, youth is retarded. i don't even wanna touch the ridley i was when i was in high school. anyways....

i was seeing this girl for a good month or month and half or so, and it was getting heavy, and some heavy petting occured, and boobaged happened (by then I never have held a true boob), and all that fun stuff. she knew i was a virgin. she could sense it in my eyes, in my weirded-out-ness, she wasn't one of course, but she would "teach" me. ok I was still kinda weirded out on the whole thing because as a guy I was supposed to know, y'know?

it wasn't romantic at all. it was like 3 in the afternoon, we were at her mom's house watching tv, and her mom came home and we went upstairs to "listen to music," in which she put on Dr Dre 2000, her favorite rap record. she then took off her clothes to reveal a black bra and matching panties. she then told me to take off my pants to play with my penis. she then mounted me, and asked me if I could stick it in. of course I said (I mean come on). she then groaned and gave this sexy look that I will always remember because it became the look I would always see when we were fucking. I'm sure all girls have a look, but that was her look. It was unique, it was something burned in my mind, it made me horny when I thought about it. It's funny because you think of the uniqueness of the people you go out with and you think like music, or like common interests, or like a smile, or like a joke, or like a saying. the look was for me. you could not replicate it.

it was done quickly, she changed, i sat down and thought "that was it?" then I went home and thought about it some more and congratulated myself in that pathetic sort of way. but it was an accomplishment, a rite of passage, no one forgets that, no one forgets who, no one forgets the clothes, the scenery, the noises, the sensation as different as you thought it would be.

needless to say, the next time was much much better, and much more proper.

i know, not as sexy or quality as a quality rasp sex post, it's not my style, but I tried and it's something at least that everyone can relate to.

let's get sandy!!!

Since I'm Rasp's Evil Twin Brother, I have known her for a while. But now that she's gone I can tell you a bunch of things about her you might not know:

1) She likes to tell people that she gives money to homeless people, but she doesn't
2) Raspberry is not her favorite fruit. It's problaby not even top 5.
3) She had black and she went back
4) Her favorite Beatle song is "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," sneers when someone mentions the White Album
5) When she is "Away" on MSN, she isn't really
6) Once punched out a guy on street because he looked at her funny. She went "WHAT?!" and Poof! he was on the floor
7) She hasn't even shown you her favorite tattoo
8) Once saved a man in Reno
9) Then killed him
10) She received a spanking from Prince William
11) Her favorite emoticon is the one with the humping stormtrooper
12) When she cries, she looks at herself in the mirror, just so she can freak herself out
13) Told a racist joke to a dead baby
14) Secretly cheers for the Edmonton Oilers
15) Her favorite t-shirt is the one that has the Good Times guy that says "Dynomiteee!"
16) Hated Lord Of The Rings
17) She has a friend whose birthday lands on Christmas. She double gifts.
18) Made Paul McCartney divorce his ex-wife
19) Not even a natural blonde.....more like strawberry blonde
20) Didn't even go to the festival, she's hunting secret maneating aliens in the dessert....

Oops, I've said too much

one last thing before i go

raspberry out.

swim out past the breakers, watch the world die

ok kids so i'm outtie-500. which is to say, work will probably be nuts as everyone realizes i'm not going to be here until tuesday, and i'm going to the constantines tonight and so probably won't be able to post again till i get back monday. i'll try and take lots of pictures, and will be thinking of you with love.

in the meantime i leave you in the capable hands of my twin brother, mister ridley thunder. or, if he should feel so inclined nk. or heck, even ciavarro but he's currently on a mission to kill all of his readers, so maybe we don't want that, huh?

so goodnight, and goodluck, and play nice with your sister while i'm away....

UPDATE!!!
ok we have an extra cons ticket for tonight. who wants to come?

old and fat

oh i'm SO not ready for this trip this weekend... the kiddo lost his birth certificate, so i paid to express a new one and it hasn't arrived.. we need to get it so he can get across the border....

oh i'm so stressed out. i have a list of things i need to get to bring with me, and i am going to see the constantines tomorrow night, so i headed out to london drugs to pick up some stuff. i returned home with a bag of blueberry trail mix, a travel sized container of sunscreen, and some roap. i'm all set right?

right.

no sinister blade will poison us

i feel as though i need to apologize with you. i feel as though i've not been pulling my weight around here these days - my posts have been uninspiring and there has not been nearly enough photography. well, until the last couple of days, anyway, 'cause i think i've been back to normal lately. this morning i was staring at my little bloggity trying to figure out what was going on, and why i've felt so disassociated with my life and my creativity, and i popped on over to read tony ('cause i always read him first in the morning, and 'cause he always kicks me out of my slump). lo and behold what did i find? it's like he's tapped into my brain all the time and i don't know if it's 'cause he's the blogfather or if it's 'cause i'm sending out an sos to his heart, but he's got a list of the causes of 'blogger burnout':

heres when you will experience "blogger burnout":

1. when your internal dialogue gets hijacked by your concerns about what your readers will think.
2. when you are afraid to write down what you are truly thinking about at that moment.
3. when you believe the lie that some people just arent capable of good writing.
4. when you believe the lie that there is a certain way that you "should" write anything.
5. when you get more involved in punctuation, spelling, or aestetics than saying what you want to say.
6. when you get caught up in traffic, hits, popularity, readers, and/or fame.
7. when you believe the lie that what you think doesnt matter.
8. when you believe the lie that what youre about to say has been said before and/or written down better.
9. when you forget that most ideas can be expressed in less than 15 minutes.
10. when you dont set aside a little bit of time each day to update your blog.

now the question to be answered is which of these nasty stds have i caught?

1) well, i guess that happens sometimes. after the whole 'raspberry's a homewrecking whore' extravaganza of a couple of months ago, it's kinda been at the back of my mind.
2)see number one.
3)i think that everyone is capable of writing well. i taught first year university english - i know these things...
4)yeah i get caught up in this. sometimes my academic brain gets pissed off at the laissez faire style of my freewriting brain and i just can't make them talk to each other.
5)see number four
6)now if that were true i'd *only* be posting naked pictures and talking about sex
7)yeah that happens - especially when the voices start whispering whispering in the back of my skull
8)hello, grad school neuroses...
9)no i fully agree with this
10)ok guilty as charged.

so i guess my point is that i am going to try and be a good little blogger and really kick your asses with posts and pictures and all the fun stuff you want. and really, shouldn't there be at least one spanking, for the all the slack-ness? i can't believe that no one has suggested it before now.....

allow me to retort

ok so the other day ridley offered some advice to women posting online dating profiles, and i felt as though i should respond in kind. i know his profile is good, 'cause i screened it for him before i let him put it up. hey, what are older, less evil sisters for?

1) learn how to spell. the letter zed has not, does not, and will not, replace(d) the letter ess. unless you are jay-z, of course, in which case you are a dirty cheating bastard - go home to beyonce. call me!

2) we all know you snowboard. this is vancouver. you can't swing a stick without hitting a guy who skis, snowboards, and does the grind for fun. you tried surfing / want to try surfing / love to surf. your middle name is 'extreme sports'. you all like sitting on patios in the summer, and you all live in kitsilano. let it go.

3) don't post a picture of you with your arm around another girl. period.

4) if you are just looking to get laid, they have a section for you. use it. don't put a profile in every one to expand your market - you are playing with people's emotions and that's a Very Bad Thing.

5) please, if you are posting a photo, make it current. if it can't be current, please ensure that it still *looks* like you. your class photo from 1989 just won't cut it, unless you drive a delorean.

6) of *course* you are laid back / a really nice guy. what else are you going to say? you're a neurotic workaholic asshole who bites his nails and roadrages in the bumpercars at the PNE?

7) what's up with the fish? why is six out of ten of you holding a fish?

evil twin brother!

i've decided that ridley is my evil twin brother. you know, just because. my younger evil twin brother, but my evil twin brother none-the-less.

ok it's time for some self reflection, because for some reason i have neglected to take my meds since thursday, and i tend to get like this on such occasions. i can feel the anxiety creeping up - that "i blew up a balloon too vigorously" feeling in my jaw, the scratchy itchy tears hiding just behind my glasses, the inability to sit still. my hands are jitterbugging across the keyboard chasing my fingers through the forest for the keys like i've had seven cups of coffee and no food in a week.

i went out on an emotional limb on saturday. i let myself get caught in a moment with the cruiseship boy and i let down my guard. i forgot that time hadn't stopped - that after i left the ship he'd still be on it and i'd be back in my real life and that i wasn't indestructible. safe within four walls and deep within the confines of a down duvet i was a superhero, for a while, and nothing could hurt me. but here i am back on dry land hacking away at the jungle vines of insecurities and self doubt.

this is when i get self destructive. this is when i throw myself into mindless sexual encounters hoping that i can lose myself in the touch and the heat, lose myself in the fucking and kissing and biting and screaming and drown out the voices in my head.

and it works, you know, works for that lifetime encapsulated within a moment and the taste of sweat on my lips.

then before i've climbed off your body, your eyes still closed and your bottom lip caught beneath your teeth, my brain's already racing running chasing west through the narrows. won't somebody please hit pause? won't somebody please catch my hand pull me in tight wrap their arms around me remind me that it's ok to stop, ok to breathe just breathe.

an affectionate date - i'm section eight

ok from the 'world's colliding' department.....

last night i was chatting with someone i'd met at the height of the online dating madness. he had gone to a myspace party (which sucked, naturally) and i berated him because of course he should be supporting buzznet not myspace. he asked what the difference was, and i responded nothing except i have a good friend who works for buzznet. he replied "oh tony pierce?" and i said yes. he apparently has met tony, and used to read the blog.

huh, i think to myself. he then mentions that he, too, has a blog, but an msn thingy. so naturally i read it. he's kinda angry - like says things that piss people off lots. i comment that i have a friend who writes that way as well - even managed to ruffle the feathers of deaf america. he asks 'oh ciavarro?'

oh why yes i do... so now i'm trying to figure out if he's read *this* blog, and, if so, how do i feel if he doesn't own up to it? like isn't that poor manners? so i didn't say anything, i just let it pass on by, 'cause of course if i asked he'd want the address and then he'd see me with my tah-tahs out and there wouldnt' be any milestones for him to try and reach, you know?

but what *is* the etiquette of a situation like that? if you are introduced to someone, or meet them in a similar fashion, and you've read their blog so kinda know them intimately, shouldn't you say, oh by the way, i know about that funny growth on your thigh - go to the doctor - and i agree with j-mo. you should cut the guy with the chia pet fetish loose.

anyhooo... he was spending today baking green and chocolate flavoured brownies, if you get my drift. i pointed out that they taste like ass unless you drench them in chocolate/espresso sauce, baileys, and vanilla ice cream. he respects the way i managed to combine alcohol *and* drugs and so has asked if i'd like to hang this week. perhaps i'll solve the mystery at that point. or should i wait for him to mention it, if he's even been here?

curse the corpses, call in the futurists.

ok so the sister may have been on to something with this whole matthew mc... ok i'm gonna have to learn how to spell that. one moment.

ok let's start this again, shall we?

ok so the sister may have been on to something with this whole Matthew McConaughey thing. i just spent the day with him. he makes my heart pit-a-pat. (as an aside, there's NO WAY i would ever have guessed at the spelling of that name). i displayed REMARKABLE restraint - like unheard of for me restraint. which is to say, i was in his bedroom, on his bed, for almost the entire day, and neither one of us removed a single article of clothing. the skirt may have ridden up my legs a few times, but skirt has a mind of its own. it really can't be controlled - let's not kid. i also drove him nearly to the point of insanity, which kinda wasn't really a win win situation 'cause fuckinell i was along for the ride, wasn't i?

le sigh.

southern men, i swear - the born in georgia lives in arkansas accent; the good manners; the values; did i mention the accent? oh and a tattoo that he'd have to be naked for me to see? and i still don't know what it is? and it's driving me INSANE with curiosity? i am a leo, after all, and you know what curiosity does to us kittens.

------------------------------------------------------------------
a hundred million thank you's and kisses to mr tony pierce, who very sweetly contributed to my sasquatch fund xoxoxoxo

love love love is a dangerous drug

i'm searching for my summer '06 record. you know - the one that i'll play over and over again when i'm driving, windows down, sunglasses on, moving too fast in and out of commuters nursing their third cups of coffee of the morning scowling at the newsradio headlines and traffic reports. i'm searching for the sound that will help me transcend the roadwork and flashing four way stops sail on past the speedtraps and c.h.i.p.s. i'm searching for sweet mellow happy chair-dance singalong songs - not too hot, not too cold, juuuust right.

any thoughts?

so few people have favourite moments - go through the comments and judge who wins a date with sundae.

i had possibly the worst date ever this evening. i know i know - i swore off. i should really listen to my own advice. i'll tell you about it in the morning; i had just enough beer to make me verryy sleepyy.

gnite xoxo

ps - oh and i gave ridley possibly the sweetest seduction move ever. maybe if you are sweet to him he'll share.

scratch a living

ok housekeeping - i'm tired of looking at the cd list. i kept it, but until i have a 'real' computer there will be no downloading of fun songs. yes it sucks, but hell.

numero duo - i'm really fucking broke. i'm freaking out about this whole sasquatch fest thing. soooo tacky as it is i added a paypal thing. if you want to donate, cool. if not, no worries i won't hold it against you at all. i'm just sayin'. the link is over there......

ok so only one person wants to date me? so close to real life, sadly... mind you, i guess it makes the judging a whole lot easier, doesn't it?

celebrate good times (come on!)

ok so i'm 95 hits away from 40K.

this seems like a big deal.

what shall we do?

how about... 'win a date with raspberry'?

and, since it's my party, i'm gonna be a little narcissistic about it. tell me your five favourite raspberry sundae moments - comments or posts - or just five favourite raspberry trivia items, the best answer wins a date with me. it'll be open judging - i'll put them up and everyone can vote but you can't vote for yourself.

the caveat is you have to make it to vancouver. i'll take you out to dinner, to see a band, whatevs. you know, as long as i can afford it.

ok... GO!

like the deserts miss the rain

i have allergy induced asthma. fun stuff, batman. at least i know i don't have pneumonia, or bronchitis, or consumption.

ok maybe still consumption. i wanna be your huckleberry.

i bought myself a moleskin notebook today. i have a convoluted relationship with paper journalling. i used to do it faithfully at least once a day - sometimes three or four. i was particularly fond of plain, spiral bound notebooks with dividers. everytime i hit a divider i'd note something significant about myself - who i was dating at that moment, what my favourite song was, mundane stuff like that. kind of a cliffs notes to the previous chapter, if you will.

oh shit i fully got distracted by the intro to charlie's angels and lucy liu's luscious luscious freckles...

where was i? ah yes, print journalling. so i used notebooks and i wrote everything down - bad thoughts, good thoughts, boring thoughts, grocery lists... everything. then i came home from school one day, after a night class, and found the guy i'd been living with for almost a year reading my journal. he went cover to cover while i was at school and i haven't been able to get over a distrust of putting my inner monologue down on paper ever since. interesting, huh, since i've spent two years putting it out into the universe where anyone can follow along.

when you buy a moleskin you also get either a postcard or stamps, each with a quotation about writing. you can send in your quotations and they'll use them in their next print run. on the set of stamps that i got with my book, there's a quote from de maupassant.... "words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. but black words on a white page are the soul laid bare."

i haven't been around much in the last week. i've been sick, and sick and tired. not of anything in particular - just in general. i'm not comfortable in my skin. i don't know if it's because of all of the drugs, or if it's just spring and i'm getting caught up in my head. sometimes i have trouble laying out my deepest feelings here - this is still a facet of me, not the whole thing, and there are things that go on that i'm not comfortable sharing with other people. i am still a very private person and some stuff i just can't share. so i'm going to try and do both. we'll see how it goes, huh?

just breathe

ok so this whole not being able to breathe thing is getting old. actually it already is old. the sister is now calling me 'darth'. sadly, it fits.

i'm so doped up on antihistamines that i can't even see straight, and yet i managed to pull off some more excel spreadsheet miraculousness today at work - i truly rule the spreadsheet realm, at a cellular level. fuck the columns and rows. i rock the cells, man. me & johnny cash at fulsom prison, bustin out all over the cellblock, drinkin yellow water.

i just reread that last paragraph. it made no sense at all.

tomorrow i go to victoria for the night with the sister. she has a man she wants me to tame. this sounds like bad news. mind you, he is reputed to talk like matthew mcconnaghy. macconahie. fuckit - you know who i mean. this is not a bad thing. nope, not bad at all.

ok i'll stop now.

radio killed the video star

so here's what i've been thinking about lately.

when i was young, my grandparents had muchmusic *way* before we did. no, they weren't progressive - it's just the way their cable package worked. heck we were the LAST kids on the block to get hooked up with much - my folks always figured it was a frivolous luxury. clearly they didn't understand that muchmusic was to kids of *my* generation what dick clark's american bandstand was to theirs. from day that muchmusic (or mtv) hit the screens, it immediately took over from radio as a way to broadcast popular culture

luckily for my sister and i, we visited my grandparents pretty much every other weekend. sunday mornings were, in my world, dedicated to citylimits and that supercilious scion of the urban myth of toronto cultural superiority, kim clarke champniss. now citylimits aired at midnight on fridays, but rarely did i get to watch it at that time. lucky for me it was rebroadcast on sunday mornings.

it was through citylimits that i was first introduced to so many of the bands which fostered my burgeoning sense of teen angst and alienation: depeche mode, the smiths, bronski beat, the cure, husker du, the red hot chili peppers, nitzer ebb, skinny puppy... oh the list of videos and bands i discovered through that show goes on and on. citylimits, and muchmusic as a whole, exposed kids, especially kids like me who lived in small northern cities or towns without access to a real 'underground' culture, kids like me who were surrounded by people who figured that nazareth and trooper were the end all and be all of the music world, to music that they NEVER would have heard otherwise, to clothes and styles and attitudes they would only see (maybe) on summer trips to vancouver or edmonton or toronto. muchmusic shaped my musical identity; it nurtured my teenaged pop culture psyche; it showed me that there was MORE.

in the early nineties, citylimits was replaced by the wedge - a half hour long primetime watered down version of its programming big brother. actually, the wedge is still on today - an isolated island of music and interesting ideas in the reality tv sludge that is the 'new' muchmusic. canada's music station had to take ren & stimpy off the air in that same decade, because its lack of musical content violated the stations licensing agreements. where, i ask you, are those broadcast regulators today? watered down clones of their mtv big brother programs dominate canadian music television airwaves. nowadays, videos make up a minute fraction of what is actually aired.

80's trivial pursuit asks its players to identify the first video played when mtv hit the airwaves august 1, 1981. the answer, of course, is the buggles' "video killed the radio star". as i was listening to 'left of center' on sirius, the question that i asked myself was whether or not radio has reasserted itself as the dominant purveyor of "alternative" youth culture - has radio once again become the primary means to disseminate new music?

as i was cooking supper tonight, for example, i heard gnarls barkley, gomez, beck, and death cab for cutie. out of curiosity, checked my television listings - much music is currently playing much on demand (and hour long program of inane posturing by vapid presenters loosely disguised as a viewer's choice program), while muchondemand is showing an mtv-produced documentary on george michael. see what i mean? is the music video even a valid art form, anymore? the artistically acclaimed postal service video 'such great heights' was recently converted into an apple commercial, without the band's permission - could it be that music videos are now merely training grounds for advertisers and movie producers?

mainstream fm radio has a long way to go before it generates the energy and excitment of satellite. commercial radio is just that: commercial, and it is tied to the moral sanctitude of its advertisers. satellite, of course, has none of those boundaries to traverse, so is free to explore the frontiers of music and cultural ideas. it may very well be that satellite radio has, indeed, killed the video star.

i could astound you if i wanted

so i'm sitting here gazing fondly at the product of two days (off and on) of work - a perfectly organized and pared down closet. ok when i say pared down you have to understand that it's still crammed full. also that i do not, by any means, have a small closet. but it's pared down none the less and is exceedingly tidy.

i think i've written here before about having mild o.c.d - it manifests itself in certain funny ways like how my desktop icons are arranged, and being distressed if anything but tea goes in the cupboard tea basket, and things like that. so as i was organizing my closet i knew that i was putting things back based on the type of clothing - jacket, skirt, pants whatevs and (to a lesser extent) by season. what i didn't notice until a third of the way in was that i was also sorting by colour, and making sure that the colours eased from one into the next smoothly. how did i notice myself doing this, you might be asking? well self was becoming rather distraught over the fact that i couldn't figure out where to place an aqua coloured top. i was rearranging stuff in my head, and actually had a moment of triumph - a moment significant enough for me to crow aloud - when i realized that a little pink summer blouse did indeed have small aqua coloured flowers in it: flowers which would allow me to segue neatly from the pink to the blue family.

the fact that this whole closet tidying venture probably would not have taken two days if i hadn't been quite so obsessive about the replacment of the clothes has not escaped me. And neither has the fact that, if i hadn't been so obsessive about sorting the clothes i was keeping as i removed them from the closet, as well as the clothes i earmarked for the thrift shop, i probably could have been done in an hour.

they’ll pin your renegade heart to wall and leave you there to hang

whoopsy - friday i do not have a date with an english teacher (as in a teacher of english, not an englishman. or woman. or muffin. *ahem*.) i actually have a date with someone else entirely. then i'm going out with an artis. and then maybe to a cinco de mayo party. 'cause you know, it's friday and how am i gonna possibly top last week otherwise?

there will be, however, no gin. this i guarantee.

i was *supposed* to go out with the english teacher tonight but accidentally doublebooked him with punkrock boy - not that prb is guaranteed to be available, but heck. i did actually see him for a bit last night - i was in his 'hood and he had some time before going ot a stag, so i stopped by for a while, hung out, drank some beer, talked about life and stuff and the things inbetween.

oh hey did i mention that he's probably moving to costa rica next month?

break the pressure, come play my game of gesture

things i don't understand:

1) how i can work in a building surrounded by some of the most brilliant engineers and designers in the world, and not a single one of them can find the extra sugar packets to refill the container when it is empty.

2) how i can go for months at a time without spilling on myself, and the moment i wear white i morph into raspberry spillypants.

3) why some mornings my meds make me pukey and some they don't.

4) why i always resist the thought of *going* to yoga, but once i'm there i feel a million times better. moreover, i KNOW that this is the way, and yet i get all grumpy about it everytime, regardless. in fact, last night i was so mellow that once i got home i didn't even speak for half an hour. i just didn't feel the need. i heart that.

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ok so tonight begins the end of my dating spell. i am having drinks with the accountant, then might visit with punkrock boy, and then am coming home. tomorrow night prb and i were thinking about going to see that bettie page flick, but he's fifty-fifty on whether or not he has to work. hence the tonight thing - he didn't want to not see me this week. he's so cute. then friday i have a date with an english teacher... then i'm done for a bit. i'll do some re-dates, but nothing new.

should be interesting...

todae's horoscope

i like this one:

No one has better instincts than you, as you will so handily prove today when you whip off the mask of someone who's all talk and no action -- be generous when you reveal their true identity. Chances are they were just trying to impress you anyway. There are many mixed signals coming from a friendship you thought was solid -- again, trust your instincts on this and consider that this person isn't always the best at communicating. Ask them what's up and get to the truth.

so i went and had dinner with the mushroom king last night. we were going to work on his business plan (he asked for my help) and i'd promised to cook him dinner so i figured i'd do that too. i made good food, we went for a walk to get wine, watched the ufc on tv, didn't do the plan 'cause his computer was having issues.

i kinda feel like we're married, or in some kind of long term relationship. weird huh? i'm strangely comfortable with him, he tells me about his dates and stuff, i don't tell him about mine, and things are good. friends, i guess, but still weird. there are definately moments where i feel like there is something.. more.. but i might be misreading them. artboy proved that my instincts aren't the best, anymore. or maybe ever were. i dunno.

i have a couple of dates pending, but i think that i might go on them and then give up on this whole dating thing. it is kinda making me feel empty inside. this isn't how i want to spend my days or evenings.

le sigh.

i'd like advice please. i don't want to be ripped apart, and i am listening (i always do), but i'm feeling kinda fragile and i don't want to be insulted. that's the difference between advice and criticism, i figure.

two fifty for an eyeball

ok so yesterday when i was shopping with the sister i bought myself knee-length skinny white capri thingys. i'm wearing them today with an off-the shoulder black sweater. about twenty minutes ago, i thought to myself 'self, how long do you think we can keept these little pants spot-free?' and self responded 'look down, dumbass, you already splashed coffee on them.'

le sigh.