mercredi, décembre 31

happy nye

So we're off to see MSTRKRFT tonight for new year with a few friends.

This brings me to contemplate two things:
1) MSTRKRFT was the first "date" the architect and I had, really - we went for brunch and to the beach beforehand, but the night we went to see the two killer djs from mont-royal was the first time I introduced him to my friends and him me to his.
2) This evening we looked at each other and voiced, aloud, the fact that we've both been thinking that we are getting too old for this sheet - the staying out all night doing drugs etc etc. I mean, we'll probably always do it but chances are this is the last time for a long time. If it weren't for the fact that it's MSTRKRFT we'd probably be doing dinner with friends tonight instead of clubbing, for sure.

We're in such a better place from last year - literally and figuratively. We've got friends here (hell last night we had a bookswap and ended up with 30 people in our apartment. Apparently we're getting a reputation for throwing great parties); we've got a great apartment; we're better off financially; my work visa should be here any day and then we'll be golden... oh and then there's that whole married thing. When I think back to where I was 5 years ago, I never would have pictured myself here. I guess that's what's cool about life - you take the path that sparkles to you and who knows where it will lead?

Anyway, I just wanted to say Happy New Year to you all - the long time readers and the folks who have just ended up here by accident. I wouldn't have made it through some of the shit I've seen without you guys here listening to me blather on, and I appreciate it more than you will ever know.


lundi, décembre 29

Study: Teenage 'virginity pledges' are ineffective

Subtitle: Youths who promise abstinence are also less likely to use protection

What, teenagers lie? And then make stupid choices? No! Can I get a Bristol Palin up in here? Speaking of, shouldn't she have popped out another red neck republican by now?

Ug I'm bored and I have a headache. You know when you are *SO* bored that you are beyond actually doing anything? Like when you used to follow your mom around whinging, and she'd suggest about a billion things for you to do (six hundred million of which involved some kind of chores or another) and NOTHING sounded good because you just couldn't shake the lethargy? Yeah that's how I feel.

In other news, I almost cut the top of my thumb off with my new knives the other night.
Good times. I'm just not used to moving so fast - the old fugly ikea knives I had kind of limited you b/c you could only chop so quickly. Not my pretty new globals, though - they went ripping through that concombre like nobodies' bidness. Oh and also my thumb, and thumbnail. Yay me!

vendredi, décembre 26

All I want for

So for Christmas I received a starter set of Globals and a soon-to-be-brother-in-law (I think that goes down on record as the longest hyphenated word I've ever typed.) Both of these things are awesome.

It wasn't bad, you know - I mean, I missed my fam and my friends, but we had some really good friends over for xmas eve-eve, we had a great meal with the architect's fam on the Eve, and spent the day opening presents, chatting with my family via skype, and then drinking at a friend's place. Last night we headed home to chill and decompress and realized that we'd actually had a really nice holiday. I had only two moments of emotude: one when the kiddo opened his christmas eve gift over the phone with me and told me he missed me, and the next was a post-supernatural text from the sister saying that it wasn't the same without me. Damn those winchester boys.

mercredi, décembre 24

happy christmas to all

OK so here we go - I'm off to the architect's family christmas eve dinner. I just talked to the kiddo for a minute on the phone as he opened his christmas eve prezzie (always a tree ornament; this year's zombie themed). I bawled my eyes out for a solid ten minutes upon hanging up the phone and may descend into blubbering idiocy momentarily. I really think the only way to get above the black cloud surrounding my head is to alight the alcohol fueled stairway to oblivion. Wish me luck, folks.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and that all your hopes and dreams come true.

Merry merry
raspberry sundae

vendredi, décembre 19

I have

A belly full of harp beer and chips smothered in curry with mushrooms and faux meat.

This is a good thing.

That is all.

jeudi, décembre 18

If Thursdays were like underpants

So now that we're officially not going home for the holidays, I'm trying to figure out what a SoCal Christmas looks like.

Metaphorically, dumbass - I know that the streets will be mostly empty except for legions of Family Trucksters loaded up with kids and gifts and reindeer sweater clad parents and that it will probably be warm and sunny (though you'd never know it considering the rain of the last few days) and that there will be lights and trees and the smell of turkey will resonate from beneath kitchen doors.

Metaphorically. Who will we see? Will we have fun? Will it be kinda sad and lonely?

I've started making some plans - we're having dinner xmas eve with the architect's aunt & uncle (will they let me bring tourtiere? I must!) and we have a pajama brunch planned for the day of. We've also started trying to figure out how to video conference present opening with the family back home.

The alternative plan is for me to drink till I pass out and spend the entire season in an alcoholic stupor. I have to tell you - right now I'm seriously leaning toward that option. Oh and I'm starting tonight. I am going to champagne happy hour with some folks.

lundi, décembre 15

I'm only happy when it rains

It's fricking pouring here today - like Vancouver style rain. While this is good - what with the drought and all - it also sucks because I've been spending the late morning / early afternoon coming to terms with the fact that I'm probably not going to get to go home for Christmas.

I mean, we have been entertaining the thought of renting a cabin on the US side of the border but fuck honestly it's beyond our means at this juncture. So, basically, I'm depressed as fuck today and trying to sort out what Christmas without the kiddo and my family will look like. The rain, while apropos, is not helping with the mood.

I know, I know - people are away from their families all the time for Christmas and it's all part of being a grown up blah blah blah. I'm just not looking forward to it, is all.

mardi, décembre 9


I lost a follower. I had two, before, and now only one. Pity. I wonder who my follower is? Is it a weird creepy stalker kind of follower? Or an interesting fun friend type follower? Inquiring minds et al.

NK I really try not to think too deeply about my current situation in SD. I mean, for the most part it's pretty awesome: the architect is great, our apartment is cool, we've met some nice people. On the flip side, I have no job and no car, so my day-to-day activities are restricted to things I can do for under $10 and happen to also be in walking distance. I have a lot of fun acquaintances, but I wouldn't say that I've made any great close friends. Generally I don't speak to anyone all day long - I email back and forth with the sister and the architect, but that's about it. In fact, when people phone, I almost let it go to voicemail b/c I can't think of anything to say. I miss my friends and my family. I don't know if I'm going to get to go home for Christmas. These things weigh on me, even though I try and ponder life only one moment at a time.

Plus I gotta say - 23degrees with less than two weeks to Christmas is kind of weird for a girl who grew up jumping into snowbanks as tall as her house.

Ultimately, this was a good idea. I mean, the company I worked for is closing that office, so I'd have been out of work in short period of time anyway. The architect's job is so much more satisfying to him, and he has way better opportunities down here than he would have in vancity (recession notwithstanding). I'm just really worried that I'm becoming boring - that I'm losing who I am. At the same time, though, I'm not sure how to stop it.

vendredi, décembre 5

If it's crowded all the better because we know we're going to be up late

Right now I'm pretty sure I would murder my cat (the backup cat, not the primary cat) for a mcdonalds breakfast - scrambled eggs, hashbrown, and those english muffins that manage to somehow be raw and burned all at the same time at the same time. Clearly it needs to be eaten thusly: hashbrown cut in half; half of the eggs placed on top of 1 side of english muffin; hashbrown half placed on top; liberal application of salt and pepper; bite/chew/swallow/nomnomnom.

Sadly, the only McDonalds in the area is a long walk away. Also, I'd have to go to the hospital because of the eggs and I'm pretty sure that if I'm going to eat eggs and spend a day and 2 grand in the hospital, those eggs should not be from mcdonalds.

So I'll suck it up and maybe microwave myself a yam & eat it with butter and salt and pepper. This way, at least, I can pretend that it's sort of good for me - all those antioxidants and whatnot.

I can guarantee you, though, that it won't be as good as mcdonalds' breakfasty goodness. Le sigh.

lundi, décembre 1

I've been a

lazy shit. I know it, you know it, let's move on.

Well, honestly, last week was a bit of a write off as far as down time went. I ended up running from one end of god's green earth (or at least San Diego) to the other for tests etc to do with the immigration stuff. As a result, I do know that I am actually *not* your huckleberry, despite years of insisting that I have consumption. Frankly I'm sort of disappointed - I always thought it was a noble sounding disease, with more than a little bit of romance to it.

Of course, your lungs also liquefy inside your body, causing you to cough them up bit by bit, but whatevs.

I had the worst sleep last night. I don't know if I'm getting sick or what, but I was FREEZING when I came to bed. I was super stealthily trying to warm my feet up on the architect without waking him up. Fortunately he was pretty much out cold and so I could nestle my piggies up between his thighs like a wiener in a bun and he didn't even move. Plus I kept waking up totally obsessing about random facts and details that weren't even that stressful, I just couldn't shut my brain off. Now I have a major ache in my right eye and just want to lie here in bed all day.

Unfortunately, I need to clean the oven, then walk over and pay rent, and also go to the library - I know, big day for me.

We went out this weekend and bought a fake tree and a bunch of decorations. I didn't want to spend too much since I have so much back in Vancouver, but I really wanted to get a few things. Last year was so hectic what with moving into that apartment on Dec 15 then going up to Canada a week later we didn't bother at all. This year, though, I'm insisting. We also got a cute little electric fireplace heater thing. The lights you can see behind it are the byproduct of the fake flame - they're way more evident in the photo than they are in real life, but they fascinate the cats to no end. Dude I've wanted one of these for*ever* so yay for accommodating husband-type persons.

jeudi, novembre 20

If the weather outside

So one of the crazy things about living this far south is how frickin' early it gets dark. Like, the shadows are getting long at 3.30 in the afternoon - it's almost like living way up north again, though you'd think it would be opposite.

Anyway so late yesterday afternoon I walked to the library and to get some salad & wine for dinner. When I returned home I poured myself a glass of the aforementioned beverage and retired to the front porch with it and my book and the cats for a little leisure time. Keep in mind that when I ventured out to the porch, the sun was setting but the sky was totally clear and loverly. Anyhoo, after I'd been sitting there for a few min, I looked up to see this crazy frickin' fog rolling across the sky. My pictures totally don't do justice to how low it was and how fast it was moving - seriously I thought maybe one of the hospitals nearby was on fire, until I realized that the temperature had totally dropped and there was a fresh dampness to the air. It was kind of like being in a Stephen King movie or something. I sat and watched it until it was too dark to see; totally entranced by the way it was roiling across the sky, weaving in and out of the buildings and trees. Weather is cool.

mercredi, novembre 19

Would you woo?

OK so at long last we've reached the end of 2wks of visitors - three different sets of family members staying in our apartment with us.

Don't get me wrong - I loved the company and it was awesome to see everyone, but it really did wreak havoc with our sexlife, my social life, and my hermitude. I mean, I can't very well eat crackers in bed clad only in my panties when my parents are in the next room waiting to go sightseeing, can I?

Well I suppose I could but it wouldn't be very polite. Ditto the wild crazy sexytimes - Ian and I slept on the pull out couch for the last week. Bitch squeals when you twitch, never mind go at it doggy style, so sex was def. off the table. And the bed. You know what I mean.

There's a medium-high possibility that my documentation will not have been processed in time for me to go home for Christmas. This makes me anxious. I can't imagine not spending Christmas with the kiddo - seriously. I mean, I acknowledge the fact that he's getting older and as he moves into adulthood there's a real possibility that we won't be able to do it (he'll start a family of his own etc) but I'm just not ready for that to be NOW, if you get my drift.

I'm craving pizza, even though I just ate so am clearly not hungry. Stupid body.

mardi, novembre 11

Tuesdae's Child

is watching the temperature climb with mixed feelings. Sometimes, fall should be fall - sweaters and scarves and warm coats; layers and toques and hot drinks in your hand as you crunch through the leaves in the fog.

I see the weather says we should be back up into the mid-high 20s, though, by the end of the week. This is good for my folks, who will be visiting with me, but bad for me because I want to wear sweaters not flipflops. Who would have thought that I'd be longing for cool air and frosty mornings? I think probably it's just how much I love fall clothes. Summer clothes are sundresses, but psychologically I can't wear a sundress in mid-November. Plus people here look at you funny: once the date clicks past October they're in full winter gear no matter what the temperature. OK maybe not parkas but you get the drift.

This funny in-between life has me in a funny headspace. I'm not unhappy, but I'm not happy. I feel like I'm just waiting for something, but I have no idea what that something is. I want to re-invent myself, maybe, find a new style a new look a new way of thinking about the world. I want to get excited about something. I'm victim to the post-obama melancholy. Yes we can, but can we? what can we do?

I wrote a letter yesterday to appeal to the sympathies of the US government - to ask them to please process my application for permission to travel in time for me to go home for Christmas. I've never spent it away from Calvin. I don't want to start now.

lundi, novembre 10

Mondaes are for sleeping in

.. and drinking coffee in bed while eating PB&J toast curled up against a kitty.

Mondays are for listening to the world go by behind the red velvet curtain and not wanting to join the rush.

Mondays are for reading blogs and books and balloons.

Mondays are for emailing with the sister and thinking about rainy Vancouver winter days and fireplaces and dominoes.


fantastic post over at David's Travelling

dimanche, novembre 9

Windy Sundae

Hm that post title makes it sound like I have gas. This is not the case, I assure you.

I've been blog absent again, for no real reason that I can think of, except that I need to be in a groove and when I'm not I just don't have rhythm. Because, of course, you need rhythm to get the groove. (is that the way the song goes? I'm really not sure)

It's kinda gray and rainy today - the wind is a-blowin and the rain is a-fallin. This may be contributing to my overall sense of lazy, but then who knows. I could just be a lazy ass good for nothing who never wants to do anything but lie in bed eating bonbons and reading mystery novels.

At least I've convinced myself that red wine is a beverage best enjoyed after 12pm (and I know it's after noon on the east coast; I'm talking local time, here) otherwise I'd probably be half cut already. It *is* 10.30 after all.

mercredi, novembre 5

mixed blessings

OK so I'm so very happy and proud that the US has elected their first person of colour to the presidency. I'm so sad and ashamed that California passed Prop 8 which changes the constitution to specify that marriage can exist between only a man and a woman, thereby discriminating IN THE CONSTITUTION against homosexuals. It makes me a little sick to my stomach, actually, and I can only hope that when they finish counting the 3million-odd mail in ballots that something changes.

vendredi, octobre 31

Jack Skellington on a Skateboard

I'm still coming to grips with the fact that I live in a part of the world where you don't have to wear your snowsuit over your hallowe'en costume.

That said, I'm totally torn about what to dress as. I mean, here it is - day of - and I've got nothing. I'm clearly in a funk. We do actually have two parties to go to, as well. What to do, what to do.....

jeudi, octobre 30

NO on Prop 8

OK so I'm still visiting with family, but I just wanted to take a moment or two to give some exposure to the No on 8 campaign. The yes folks are spreading some fairly vitriolic propaganda, stuff that has really no basis in fact. In addition, they are blackmailing local small businesses and have hacked the No on 8 website.

I would like to encourage everyone to take a moment and volunteer time (if possible) for No on 8 (or No on 4 if in Florida). If time isn't possible, then spread the word or send some cash - anything will help.

mercredi, octobre 29

Oh. Hi there, blog.

I have company for a couple of days, so I'm doing the company shuffle. My living room has become a bedroom and I'm struggling to make smalltalk. Praise jeebus for the lubricating tongue teaser known as sweet sweet red wine... Is it too early to start?

I'll be back tomorrow, I promise

Raspberry Sundae

PS - going to a hockey game tonight!!!!!

lundi, octobre 27

things found in rental cars

So on Saturday we had to rent a car, because our sweet go-car is in the shop getting his breaks did and I wanted to go shopping (shocking, I know). Anyhoo, as is often the case, the sun reached a point in the sky where the visor was required for safe and comfortable operation of said rental car (a sweet, sweet toyota corrolla, btw), and what do you think we found?

Why, two citations, a vice report, and a letter from the San Diego County Attorney assuring Mr. Dustin Bigguns (name changed to protect the 'innocent') that he was declining to prosecute for said vice arrest.

Oh - and despite the fact that the name on both the letter and the citations was male, the vice report described the person as female, which would lead me to believe that the perp (yay CSI vocabulary!) was a man dressed as a woman. Not that there is anything wrong with that - it's just an interesting addition to the anecdote that cracks me up.

We turned it into the guys at budget with a giggle when we returned the car....

samedi, octobre 25


Man this presidential election thing is really overwhelming sometimes. I mean, I'm Canadian - have you ever paid attention to Canadian federal election proceedings? (The answer to that question is 'Canada has elections?' - even for most Canadians, unfortunately.) I mean, the most recent was held in mid-October, after about 6 weeks of campaigning. Contrast this to the TWO FRICKING years that we've been bombarded by Americal political propaganda from both sides. It's quite amazing that no one has become immune to it.

Or have they? Maybe the increase in vitriol of the recent weeks has more to do with media over saturation for the poor voters. In order to break through the BTDT apathy so prevalent in the American public, it's necessary to fling around slanderous barbs and virulent conspiracy theories. And, unfortunately, a great percentage of the population often buys the full meal deal of the BS.

One of the cool things you learn when you get an education is how to think critically, and in thinking critically, you understand that *EVERYONE* has an agenda. Usually it's as benign as convincing you that their opinion is the correct one: a toasted cheese sandwich is a good idea for lunch; taking an umbrella is a good idea if the weather threatens rain; Palin is a terrifying Stepford wife Cheney-clone who doesn't have two braincells to rub together - that sort of thing. In order to convince people that your opinion is right, you compile a collection of facts and/or propaganda to support your argument. A good critical thinker reviews a number of these arguments before forming an opinion. Unfortunately, most people in this day and age don't bother to learn how to be good critical thinkers: they simply opt for the argument that's the loudest or the flashiest. The presidential election shouldn't be entertainment, even if it does have more plot twists, comedians, and emotional upheavals than a Hollywood blockbuster most of the time.

vendredi, octobre 24

Lust (2)

I feel like posting a bunch of random crap today, so here's another. This is why I love the show Supernatural....

From Traveling David

See more Ron Howard videos at Funny or Die

jeudi, octobre 23


Does someone want to redesign my template for me? I'm bored and can't bring myself to do it. Plus I somewhere along the line lost my little rasperry favicon up top there. One moment it was there, the next - not so much. Le sigh.

I'm also extremely envious of people buying clothes. Even though it's going to be 35degC here today, I feel the need to buy a new fall wardrobe. OK so I'm having a bit of a pity party over here - sue me. Hmph.

I made a killer turkey curry last night - we had naan bread and basmati rice. I wish there had been enough left over for some breakfast for me (I've begun eating lunch food for breakfast at like 10am. I dunno why - I'm on a huge morning meal savoury food kick). Alas, there was only enough for the architect's lunch, so I may have to make myself a blackbean quesidilla.

This post sucks.

mercredi, octobre 22


So I'm a recent convert of the website cork'd - it's basically a social networking site (like yelp or whatever) but you review wine. Now, we all know how I feel about a tasty bottle of red, and I'm always on the lookout for new bottles. Today, for example, I was reading about a new (to me, anyway) region of France - the Basque. Sure sure the Basque region of Spain is well known and accounted for (terrorists, good food, etc) but France? I had no idea.

It just goes to prove to me how much traveling I really need to do. I mean, I haven't even seen all of CANADA, never mind the US. I've never been to Mexico, and I want, nay NEED to explore more of Europe than Great Britain and southern Spain. I may want to do it all as a crazy food tour. Does that make me a bit obsessed? Possibly... But I don't actually care too much.

And how much of a country can you see in 2wks? Like, do you pick your two weeks and choose one specific region per year, go there, and hope to see it all in your lifetime? Too many people bank on being able to travel once they retire, but who knows what will happen with the economy. Will everyone be left sans job security and/or pension funds (not like I have either at the mo, but you know what I'm talking about)?

Anyhoo.... If the wine thing is your bag, baby (or should I see right up your terroir), send me an email or whatevs and I'll add you as a friend or viceyversy.

mardi, octobre 21


You know, as I contemplate the economy's spectacular implosion, I am forced to ponder wtf actually happened to all the money. Take any number of major corporations - they somehow had enough to pay execs millions of dollars in yearly salaries and then all of a sudden - nothing. Layoffs, closing plants and offices, huge packages to the same executives. Or the lightbulb factory where I used to work - I came in at a time of huge financial prosperity. Within two years, they were laying off over half the workforce (we called it Black Thursday).

Who was held accountable for the financial debacle? The CEO who presided over the fuckup is still in situ. How is this fair, when the folks who showed up for work every day and did their jobs as they were supposed to were laid off? Seems to me as though the top level execs should have been the first out the door, since their principal duties are generally comprised of keeping the company fiscally solvent, no?

Multi-billion dollar bailout packages for companies that can't run themselves effectively kinda make me nauseous, especially when it's reported that as soon as the money was received they scheduled spa vacations for their executives. How does that not make you sick? The sense of entitlement some people have astounds me. Families are losing their homes; going bankrupt due thanks to medical expenses; barely able to make ends meet and this company is spending 23K on spa treatments for its execs. They justify it by saying the retreat was required for company morale. I submit that a steak dinner and a pep talk would have sufficed, considering they were on the brink of bankruptcy.

lundi, octobre 20

Sloth - Second only to Gluttony for the rank of Raspberry's Favourite Sin

It's kinda hazy out today, still, and so it's making me not want to leave my bedroom, despite the fact that our floors desperately need a scrubbing and I want to bake some bread.

Le sigh.

Weekend != eventful. Which is good, I suppose, considering the debauchery (chemical and gustatory) of the weekend previous. Someone of my advancing years should not indulge too many of this type of weekend in a row. That sort of nonsense, as well as excessive exposure to the sun's harmful rays, will lead to premature aging. No one wants a dried Raspberry, this is for sure. On the other hand, lack of exposure to the sun's rays leads to an unripened Raspberry. I've been trying to decide on a good day to head over to the pool and was leaning towards Thursday, but I have just received a call to put in a couple o' hours at the salon. Wednesday may be the day. You know, in case anyone wants to come with.

vendredi, octobre 17

Chuckle & Grin

jeudi, octobre 16

Canada doesn't want you

"Stephen Baldwin, who has threatened to move to Canada if Barack Obama is elected, has now challenged the candidate to box for charity. "I'd like to knock some good sense into Barack," Alec's right-wing bro said at the Printing House Gym in the Village. "I wouldn't hurt him. But if he wins the election, he'll hurt me. He's a cultural terrorist." This from the man who enriched us all with "Sex Monster" and "Snakeman.""

Source - NY Daily

I was here to please; I'm even on my knees

Still Bronte, for what it's worth. I've even pulled the curtains in the bedroom. They're red velvet and block the world out oh-so-well.

Take a lil look at the blogroll to the right: I've been wasting days reading through my old posts and the comments that match and have added some of the folks who are still out there, somewhere, under the rainbow.

Fuckinell! Someone is driving up and down my street with the bass cranked so high on their car stereo that it is actually HURTING MY HEARS (typo but I'm keeping it). Am I really getting that old or is it ok that I'd like to go outside and smash his/her windshield in with my air conditioner? Smashysmashy rage! And there they go again... OK I live on a really quiet street that dead ends in a canyon. Where are you going, little bassbin twin? What are you looking for?

OK so I have to stop reading my old posts. Going back through my personal history is having a weird effect on my mental health - like I can't shake the feeling that I'm just not fun anymore; that my life used to be so much more interesting than it is now. I need to stop rehashing my past, thinking about how much fun I *used* to have, and remind myself of how good things are now. I'm just not sure how to shake the funk and get over it, is all.

mercredi, octobre 15

Do you think that

since Madonna and Guy are getting divorced, she'll give him his balls back so he can make good movies again?


I spent all day yesterday in a bit of a moody funk, reading through old blog entries and semi-wishing I was still crazy so I could still write well and still be off the hook fun to hang out with. I think I'm maybe a bit dull, nowadays. Perhaps not, though - just my blog is.

Maybe I just need to masturbate more. Heh.

Anyhoo - I spent all of yesterday in bed. I'm blaming the semi-flu the architect has gifted me with (I'm still a bit lightheaded) (shut up, you), but really need to get out of the house today, or else I may go crazy. As it is I've been boring the cat with my chatter. You know you are doing poorly when even the CAT leaves the room to avoid a conversation with you. Sheesh.

mardi, octobre 14

Me & Emily

I'm feeling a little Bronte today, and am lying here in my pjs with a glass of juice and a plate full of hummus and pita chips. There will surely be crumbs in the bed, but I'll blame the architect and no one will be the wiser.


Anyway so I've been flipping through old blog posts and checking out people who used to comment. Most of them have gone away - blogs and all - yet I'm still here. I wonder where they all went? Did they get bored with their current situations and begin new ones? Did they just give up the innerweb, bored with blogging and its plebian sameness? I wonder....

newly single
dean simon, aka the farmer in the deli
write hard

There are more....

My gmail status is 'insufficient madness'. Someone who knows me from now not then inquired. What's insufficient, he asked? Seems like the world has enough. I pointed out that it's really just a comment on how I feel as though I can't write worth shit when I'm not batshit insane. Almost worth going off the meds for, no?

lundi, octobre 13

Weekend Roundup

So even thought it took me a bit to get into the idea of going out on Friday, I ended up having so much fucking fun I'm really glad I did. Of course, having to cook dinner for 13 people on Saturday when I was more than slightly rEtarded was somewhat less than a good time, but still.

Round about 3/4 of the way through the evening, TCM played da funk, and I had a major flashback to first summer I was a grad student. It was hot, sunny, and I was hanging with my prof and one of the other students all the time & we had SO much fun. We went to this biker party out in the middle of nowhere 'cause Monte was spinning, and we ended up in the parking lot dancing in the rain. It was one of those moments that will just always be in your memory as a highlight of your life, you know?

vendredi, octobre 10

Let's talk turkey

OK so clearly my days of shit disturbing and getting folks all riled up are over. Le sigh.. I guess that's what happens when you flake on your blog for a year. I'm trying to be better! I swear!

So the architect and I were in the grocery store last night picking up Butch (the turkey)* and the lady behind the till said "what are you guys doing? It's not Thanksgiving yet!" To which I naturally scoffed that of course it is, if you are Canadian. We then had an interesting discourse about the differences between Canada and the US holiday wise - meaning she asked if Canadians have Christmas at the same time as the US. I politely bit my tongue and said yes, of course, but we have way more fun with Boxing Day - Canadians are a pugilistic sort.

So I'm going to see the Crystal Method do a dj set tonight and I'm pretty frickin excited about it. Actually, that's totally a lie. I'm TRYING to get excited about it. It's just that I'd way rather sit in a great restaurant and have a meal and a few bottles of wine with friends than go to a club. Oh I *AM* getting old...

* Please see "Dave Cooks the Turkey". All of my birds since my first experience of that story have been named Butch as an homage.

jeudi, octobre 9

prop (h)ate

OK so I may be taking the lid off the proverbial barrel of monkeys here, but off we go regardless.

How easy for you is it to be friends with (like invite into your home friends with, not just be cordial to at a social gathering friends with) someone who has political opinions so completely distasteful to you that it makes you feel sick to your stomach?

Case in point - the other evening, a friend of the architect's (and by extension kind of a friend of mine) changed their fb status to 'xx wants you to vote yes on prop 8'. (For those of you not in the know, Prop 8 is the bill which wants to overturn California's decision to allow gay marriage.) I find this morally repugnant. Sure sure, I can understand how you may be religious and not approve of the gay lifestyle, the same way I understand how some people can be anti-abortion.*

HOWEVER what I don't get is the self serving self INVOLVED bullshit idea that you have the right to decide what is ok for everyone else. I mean, aren't we supposed to live in a society that advocates all men equal under god? Moreover, isn't this supposed to be a world in which there is a distinct separation between church and state?

That whole 'traditional definition of marriage' argument is bullshit. Before 1967 (Loving v Virginia), interracial marriages were against the law in many states (still are in many Arab countries). Should we revert to that? Fuck if you want to get really historical, you can find justification for SLAVERY in the bible. We redefine traditions every six seconds - it's the evolution of culture.

We've come so far, people - we've learned so much (as a society) about how to accept people as equals. Let's just take this one more step, ok? No one is going to force you to marry a gay man or a lesbian woman or even go for coffee with them, if it offends you so greatly. Just, please, accept the fact that two men raising a child (or a dog) in a happy household is more of a marriage than an unhappy or abusive man and woman living together ignoring or mistreating their children. Gender does not a marriage make - companionship, friendship, love, and a decision to live together and weather good times and bad; a willingness to make a public and private commitment to be faithful to another person for the rest of your days - let THIS be the only traditional definition of marriage that matters. Let love live.

* Notice here I said anti-abortion, not anti-CHOICE. That's a major distinction and I did it purposefully. While you have the right to say abortion isn't ok for YOU, no way do you have the right to say that I can't make that decision for myself.

mardi, octobre 7

fried green tomatoes

I ate too much tonight, and drank too much wine, but what else are you supposed to do when you show up at the gulf coast restaurant and bottles of wine are half off? OK so I may have yakked but it was worth it, dammit. The architect is currently snoring it off at the other end of the couch... I'e been strictly forbidden from taking photos of him while he's snoozering, otherwise I'd have a sweet shot of him with his eyes closed, mouth open, and hands folded across his belly.

Plus now I don't feel so guilty about eating aforementioned fried green tomatoes. mmmmmmmm

I ended up working the salon today, which was pretty cool. I mean, our house is still a mess and I am on the ship tomorrow so no cleaning there, but I figure I can shop and clean and cook and still get a good dinner party together for Saturday. I'm cool like that.

dimanche, octobre 5

chopin in the dark

The architect is asleep in the bedroom and the chat is asleep on his fugly cushion on the couch and it's 9pm. I cannot possibly go to bed at 9pm. Well fuck it of course I can, it's just that we pulled the couch out today and I napped for 2 hours so I'm only moderately tired instead of obscenely tired like I have been for the last two weeks.

I think I'm getting back into the swing of SD - feeling not quite so alone again. Saturday I went for drinks in the afternoon with a great group of people and it was just what I needed - a few stiff cocktails in good company. Now I'm focused on getting the thank you cards out and the menu planned for my annual Lost Waifs and Orphans Thanksgiving Dinner. I guess this year we're the waifs and/or orphans but whatevs - that makes it even better. I'm just following the Nick Hornby guide to unemployment; breaking my life up into 1/2 hour units and it seems way more manageable.

It rained like a mofo here last night. I like sitting inside listening to the rain - always have. There's something about hearing the water run down through the gutters to the street, hearing the cars hiss by, hearing the wind and the drops hit the windows when you are all curled up inside in your jammies that makes the world feel kinda cozy. Down here, especially, since it only rains so very rarely. I've started scouting for a stand alone electric stove for our living room, since we don't have any heat in here at the moment. There's an ugly gas radiator stored in the cupboard, but I refuse to pull that out when we can get something chic and cozy - something that kinda looks like a fire. I miss my old fireplace.

It gets dark here so frickin' early. I remember being amazed at how much shorter the days were when I moved from PeeGee to Vancouver, now here I am in a part of the world where Zeus shuts the light off at 6pm on the button, banging his thunderstick on the children's doors as he does room check. Lights out... lights out... I'm still trying to adjust, and inevitably I find myself getting ready for bed then discovering that it's only 7.30. When's fall back? That will make it even worse.

samedi, octobre 4

thread count and other pressing issues

So here I am back in SD, reclining upon 660 thread count sheets (yay wedding presents!) and drinking pineapple juice trying to kill this frickin' chest cold someone in Vancouver was sweet enough to pass on. Sheets = good wedding presents; colds, not so much, in case you are shopping for the next bride to be on your list.

It's funny how when I was up in Van I missed my house and my stuff, and how once I got back here I missed my friends and family and the kiddo. It's like I don't know what I want. Actually, I do - I want everyone to move here. The weather is soooo much nicer. Seriously. The architect told me I'd get bored of the constant sunshine, but that smacks of ridiculousness.

I am, as well, completely exhausted. The week run up to the reception was exactly that - me going at a dead run trying to get everything ready. In the end, some stuff worked out and some stuff didn't, but I think everyone had a really good time, so that's all that is important, right?

mercredi, septembre 17

Pocketbook romance

We've been having an email argument (centered around finances, as usual) all day. I've come out of it with a bad feeling in my belly and the worst temptation to just stay in Vancouver after our reception.

This temptation, by the way, is currently being fanned by the sister, who insists upon sending me job ads. Not entirely selfless, this girl, though I puzzle over what place I would have in her life now that she's got herself a steady boyfriend. I digress.

I've spent the better part of the day on the verge of sobbing my eyes out. Nothing like going for a mani/pedi/brow wax and having to choke back the bawl as the esthetician rubs your cuticles away.* The architect is burned out and unable to bring in more money. I am still sans green card and pretty much in the same boat. What to do? My only money option seems to be to stay behind in Vancouver and get a job. Hopefully the parents can put up with me for six months or so and I can put some cash aside. The thought of this, though, leaves me completely in the weeds. I don't have anything anymore - no car, no room of my own, my friends have moved on with their lives. I share the architect's space surrounded by furniture he's paid for. I can lay claim to a few kitchen items and the quilt on my bed - other than that, I have nothing. Nothing.

They say that you are not defined by your material possessions, but you are surely defined by your lack of them, and I have nothing of my own, anymore.

* I have a barter deal going with my manicurist - I poke around at her website and she gives me monthly mani-pedis. No money transferred hands. God I sure did need that pedicure, though.

mardi, septembre 16

Fly me to the moon

So I'm heading up to Vancity on Thursday for the second of a billion wedding celebrations. I mean, shit - if you have a good time doing something once, why not keep doing it? Seriously.

Anyhoo, I'm downloading some books to put on my iPhone for the flight. Dude wtf didn't I think of this before? I can listen and only have to carry the phone. Oh fuck let's not kid - I will have to take a couple-twelve books with me anyway, but I mean this idea is the shit.

OMG I just realized it's free burrito day at chipotle.... God I'm going to be a frickin whale.

lundi, septembre 15

Into the Infinite

RIP David Foster Wallace, dead from an apparent suicide at his home this past Friday. He was, arguably, the premier essayist of the postmodern era - surpassing (in my opinion) even David Sedaris and Hunter Thompson. His distinctive style - rambling prose, lush facts, and deliciously tangential footnotes - made him both a pleasure and a challenge to read.

I would like to say that I practice the sincerest form of flattery when I make my meagre attempts to construct creative non fiction, and that I model my work after his, but I have neither the talent nor the innate intelligence to do so. The man was a walking encyclopedia of fact and somehow managed to be the Cliff Claven of our generation without being annoying or pedantic. Moreover, what he didn't know, he researched - exhaustively. For example, a footnote to this article on the Maine Lobster Festival includes an apology to the readers of Gourmet Magazine (the article's first publication point) for missing the opportunity to interview the sole member of PETA present at the fest, for the purposes of adding an alternative viewpoint to the narrative.

I respect that.

I respect and relate to the urge to learn *everything* about a topic; the urge to immerse yourself completely in the archane minutiae of a subject matter and burst forth from the other side perhaps not smarter, but infinitely richer than you were a short while previous.

I know nothing about DFW's personal life. I don't know if he suffered from depression, addiction, or societal malaise. I know only that I hope he's now sitting with Damiel and Cassiel, listening in on the words and thoughts and dreams of the world for, if ever there was a sentiment that personified DFW's work, it is "I want to know everything".

mercredi, septembre 10

It's true

I am sitting on a step waiting for the library to open. Yes I am that cool.

You spin me

So last night I hosted my quasi-monthly geek group gathering. What's a geek group, you ask? Well it's a few people who get together approximately monthly to discuss a peer reviewed article selected by another member of the group*, do some eating, and have some drinks.**

Well, I guess I drank WAY more than I thought I had, because after everyone had left (around 9.30 I suppose), I was all of a sudden LOADED. Like I got the spins and went to the bathroom to force myself to yak. SO GROSS - red wine is kind of like acid coming back up. I'm sure you want to hear that. My point is, that when I came back to bed I still had the spins - I was doing the whole one foot on the ground thing and nothing was helping. Dude how did this happen? I was sure that I'd only had a couple of glasses of wine, though upon closer inspection I guess I did drink about 3/4 of a bottle. But that's not that strange for me. The drunky spinny thing? Not normal. Not approved, to say the least.

In any case, I quite expected to feel like ass this morning, but it's not too bad. I'm STARVING though, and craving pizza, which isn't the best thing for my ever expanding waistline. I may have to buck up and go get some in any case because the rumbling coming from my belly region just startled the cat. Heh.

* Last night our selection was "The Pub and the Irish Nation" by Bradley Kadel. It was pretty good, but was an excerpt from his dissertation so it wasn't completely well flushed out - there was some basic information missing that would have made it much better as a stand-alone article.
** I made Dublin Coddle and soda bread. There was a lot of Guinness and Smithwicks consumed, though clearly not by me.

lundi, septembre 8


OK so there was a House marathon on yesterday afternoon / evening. I started watching somewhere around 4pm and finally tore my eyes away at around midnight when an episode I'd already seen slipped into rotation. Not an episode I'd seen anytime before, mind you, one I'd already seen THAT DAY. I've never really watched the show before, and yet all of a sudden I was fascinated and in deep lust with Hugh Laurie. Rawr. I also drank a bottle and a half of wine as I watched, so I'm not sure how much the one had to do with the other.

At any rate, rawr. I do feel mildly hungover, though - nothing too crazy, just that irritating ick feeling in my left temporal lobe (that's the technical term. Learned it on House yesterday) (Heh).

So I'm going back up to Vancity in a week or two for our wedding reception. We've been half-assed planning it for months and now here it is three weeks away and I'm starting to panic about the money and whether or not we can pull it off. I think it should be ok, but at the same time I dunno how we are going to make it happen, you know? I'm probably just getting nervous, but when I think about the whole thing I start to get a little sicky in my belly. Le sigh.

jeudi, septembre 4


I'm sure that everyone has seen this by now, but in case you haven't - here's a fabulous report from the LA Times music blog featuring an A Capella performance by RATM steps away from the RNC.

mercredi, septembre 3

my cat

Yeah so I was reading on Sabrina, See yesterday how one of her friends threatened to dismember her or anally penetrate her with a hot curling iron or something if her blog degenerated into love and cooking and puppies and crap. Since I'm fairly sure I've already jumped that shark here, I'm going to continue along my merry way.

My cat has pretty much decided in his mind he's a pinup girl or a porn star all of a sudden. I swear you can't turn a corner without being confronted by the no-nutted wonder, spread eagled and airing out his junk. I mean, I can't say for sure that's what he's thinking, but the photographic evidence as illustrated above would certainly go towards supporting that thesis, no?

They've been ripping up the street out front for approximately a billion years and right now it sounds like they are using a dental drill on chalkboard teeth. If I'm not here tomorrow it'll be because I took a kitchen knife outside and murdered the entire work crew. Wish me luck.

mardi, septembre 2

I got something to say

So I've been participating in this online talkboard social networking site thingy since we moved down here. I mean, it's pretty fun and it's how we've met pretty much everyone we know in SD, so that's cool, but it also serves to remind me how stupid people can be when you allow them the thin veil of anonymity that the innerweb provides.

For example - in one of the threads the other day, one (married) member of the group was indulging in a bit of online flirting. Someone took it upon themselves to send his wife (another member of the group) a message ratting him out. Now this couple has been together a LONG time. They clearly have boundaries within the relationship for harmless flirting and whatnot, and who knows whether he crossed that line with what he said. However, once a third party becomes involved (i.e. the rat) the wife is almost honour-bound to take action, don't you think? If she lets it slide, she kind of looks like a cuckold, a chump, or something along those lines.

I mean, why do people regress to junior high school the minute they get behind the keyboard? It's like getting to school on Monday and having that girl who pretends to be your friend (even though deep down inside you kinda know she's spreading rumours about you all over the school) come up to you and say she saw your boyfriend kissing someone else. Even if it's not true you a) feel like an asshole and b) kinda have to take action. Gawd I've never been very good at that game.

Dude I'm a flirt - always have been, always will be. It's harmless, though, and the architect knows it. I encourage it in him, he is amused by it in me. However, if someone came up to him at a party and made comments, of course he'd feel like he had to say something to me about it - even if he knows I'm loyal, faithful, and would never betray him. All of a sudden we are in conflict for something that has been, to this point, not a problem. Ridiculous. People should mind their own business.

lundi, septembre 1

By the way

Maktaaq has written a fabulous post about the point of blogging. Check it out.


While some folks (i.e. the sister) have adopted the new EA facebook scrabble as their own, I'm still holding out. The jingly jangly animations etc are too distracting for me. I mean, I'll play it b/c I don't seem to have another option with her, but I'd rather stick to emailing the old school scrabulous back and forth.

I've been reading like a madwoman, lately, and, to my credit, I've been mixing up my brainless mysteries and/or fantasy novels with a nice smattering of non fiction and biographies. I just received my first $5 Borders Bucks coupon (for every $100 spent) and promptly spent it. Also, I've been walking down to the library at least once a week, and perusing our two local used bookstores easily that often. AND the architect's aunt is clearing out her library and is letting me go through them before she donates. Yay!!!

In other boring housewifely type news, I baked bread for the first time in forever yesterday. The brother gave me an artisan bread cookbook for my bday last month and so I gave it a shot (as pictured). I think it's too salty, but the architect says it's still tasty. I'm going to buy more flour and yeast, though, and play around with it. Mmmmmdeliciouscarbsmmmmmmmmmmm

vendredi, août 29

Hockey fans and Whatnot

So the other night when we were on our way into the amphitheater to see that band, what, the radioheads or something, my ticket was checked by a guy in a Maple Leafs tshirt. I made fanboy flappy gestures about the obviously well worn specimen and the guy asked if I happened to be Canadian. I said yes, and I was disregarding the fact that he was wearing a LEAFS shirt because of the overall coolness of seeing a Canadian hockey tshirt in pretty much the southernmost part of California. Really, seriously, I should be mocking him because, well, it's the Leafs, let's not kid.

He said actually I'm a Canucks fan I'm from Vancouver. I was being pushed along by the crowd so couldn't smack him for wearing that trash as a Vancouerite. If I'd known I would have taken him out.

The funny part though was the look on my friends' faces at the chances of running into another Canadian hockey fan while going to see a British Band in the US of A.

We're everywhere.....

jeudi, août 28

Snatch my body any day, mr Yorke.

So yeah, I went to see Radiohead at Cricket Amphitheater last night. Wow is really the only possible response. I mean, besides contemplating the fact that my irritation with all of the drunken assholes perhaps shows a bit of my age, but we won't talk about that in this forum. We here at the Sundae Sanatorium are content to wallow in our own disillusions, thank you very much.

Anyhoo, yeah, so Radiohead is f'ing incredible. The amphitheater has a pit area, seated balconies, and then the top lawn, and we were in the second row of balconies, but more or less directly behind the sound booth at DEAD centre; basically, the sound and lightshow was all set up exactly for us. Can't really go wrong with that, huh? The only thing that could have made it better would have been if the architect had been able to go with me. Unfortunately he had a bit of a snafu with a project and wasn't able to get away in time. Fortunately, though, a friend was only to happy to warm his seat for him.

$12 beers are less than exciting, but what are you going to do? At least it was good beer, not piss-poor molson in a plastic cup.

setlist (for those who care):
15 Step
There There
All I Need
Talk Show Host
Where I End and You Begin
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
The Gloaming
Faust Arp
How to Disappear Completely
Pyramid Song
Climbing Up The Walls

House of Cards
You and Whose Army?
Paranoid Android
Street Spirit (Fade Out)

Everything In Its Right Place

mardi, août 26

A simultaneously awesome and terrible personal sidenote:

The kiddo turns 9teen today. Those of you who've been around for a while may recall some of the crappy stuff he's gone through, so I just thought I'd fill you in =)

It's interesting reading stuff I love doesn't always inspire me to blog, but being irritated usually does. I'm sure that's extremely healthy. Heh.

I won't get into what it was that irritated me specifically (I don't want to open a big ol' can of shitstorm here) but suffice it to say that I read some blogger's posting, disagreed with it and with most of the comments, replied along that vein with backup facts and links, and, after moderation, the blog-owner failed to post it. While I agree that everyone has the right to control the comments on their space, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me to refuse to encourage respectful dialogue within an internet forum. Well, unless you are afraid of being proven wrong, of course.

Whatever, though, I happened upon this blog quite randomly and cannot fathom going back, as there are so many good blogs out there.

Now that I'm down in Amurrika, I get to listen to Pandora again, which rules. It's such a cool way to discover new music, and there's even an application for my iPhone*. Last night while I was cooking dinner I felt like listening to some groovy cocktail type chill music, so created a station based on Thievery Corporation. It occurred to me at the time that this station would be equally fantastic for both dinner parties and sexytimes. Now these two activities don't appear to be that similar (orgiastic Romans aside), but when you think about it, they aren't that far apart, either. Both involve two (or more) (perverts) people coming together for sensual exploration. Both have begin with an appetizer, a main course, dessert, and cleanup. (I'm purposely leaving out the salad and cheese courses, because, well, ew.) For both events, you want a soundtrack which enhance the experience but doesn't distract from it - preferably something that has a bit of a groove and will fill in any quiet spaces. Something sexy - the musical equivalent of a seduction; a sultry look or an oyster** or strawberry dipped in champagne.

Or at least that is what I generally prefer when in le boudoir - nowadays, anyway. Back when I was younger my stereo was usually playing ministry or something equally aggressive. But then my definition of a really fancy dinner was fettuccine alfredo and a glass of chilean cabernet, so there's no accounting for the tastes and predilections of a 19 year old, I suppose.

* Yes I said iPhone! I am now the proud owner of a new 8gig 3G iPhone, thanks to the always handsome and charming Architect. Yay for husbands!
** I actually don't like oysters, and have recently discovered a bit of a nasty allergy to shellfish. However, I hear that they work well as an aphrodisiac, so there it is.

lundi, août 4

read this

I missed it a couple - 3 weeks ago but you should read it now.


I recall having a conversation, one day, fueled by wine and probably a little weed, a conversation between a first nations girl, a girl who's parents escaped from Czechoslovakia in the early 70s and me, a girl who's dad grew up Catholic in Belfast. The F/N girl was getting passionate about cultural genocide and racism and I couldn't knock her for it - she was making some valid points and speaking some very powerful truths. I did get a little upset, though, when she told me that I couldn't know what she'd been through; what her grandmothers had been through.

I tried to talk to her about the fact that my dad was always very quiet about the kind of crap he suffered as a boy, but I knew that my grandpa had a hard time getting a job because he married a catholic, and he had to work for less money and walk to work barefoot so he could save his shoes for on the job. And I knew that when I was visiting my cousin we came really close to getting shot because he said "H" the wrong way. And I know poor lucky the leprechaun is still chasing after his lucky charms and that every fat frat boy and his douchebag cousin wear 'blow me I'm irish' tshirts and puke green beer every March 17. I know about cultural appropriation and having your myths and stories turned into a pot full of jokes at the end of the rainbow, and about having your language banned and almost lost. I know I'm a generation removed from it but I didn't get to learn gaelic at home because the english said my dad wasn't allowed to learn it when he was a boy.

Maybe it's different. I don't know. But I think that maybe there are a lot of people out there who know what it feels like to be told they aren't good enough. I think that maybe it's not about the colour of your skin it's about being a good person and loving the people around you and remembering that we are all part of the same family, really.

But anyway, yeah, listen to Ryan 'cause he's smarter than I am and says it way better.


Man, so I've been trying to get into psychiatric intake stuff down here b/c I don't have any insurance so need the free crap. Of course, it's fucking impossible. There's one at UCSD that I've been calling and calling and calling. Finally someone called me back and told me I have to call in on Monday mornings only, and just let it ring until someone answers. Ok so I did that and no one answered till almost 8.30, at which point they told me that all the spaces for this week were filled and that I would have to call back next Monday morning and just let it ring until someone answered. I said 'Well that's what I did today" and they replied "Yes, but it's 8.30 now, and all of the spaces have been filled".


mardi, juillet 29


Fucking hell my sweet sweet facebook scrabble has been shut down! The powers that be at facebook have caved to Hasbro and taken the scrabulous app offline. I may cry. In fact, I died a little inside when I logged on and tried to play my turns.

I'm not sure what I'll do all day. The new EA/Hasbro app blows chunks. They've over engineered it to be a wanna be GTA6 or something and it isn't working at all.

I dunno what this world is coming to. The Sasquatch has left Kokanee country in search of Montreal, hoping for an indie music deal or at least a fashion shoot; scrabulous is dead; and an earthquake shook LA without delaying the release of the new Lost Boys movie. I can't see the forest for the trees, kids, and even Corey Haim can't help us now.

lundi, juillet 21

it's my party and

I will talk about my impending wedding reception if I want to.

Yes we are still having one (for those of you who've been privy to some of the scuttlebutt leading up to it) it's just taking us a while to get off the ground with the planning and the invitations. Part of it is because we've been broke as fuck, and part of it is because... well that's the whole reason, actually. Everything costs money, you see, and food / wine are just more important than spending money on an event that is months away.

Oh except that it's now only 2 months away, now, and all of a sudden everything urgently needs to be done - especially the invitations. Getting the architect to understand this, of course, is not the easiest thing on the planet to do. He's a last minute, arrive 15 minutes late kind of guy. HOWEVER that sort of lackadaisical attitude will simply not do, in this situation.

Le sigh.

I've been vaguely tracking the progress of the smelly-ciavarro nuptuals and am amazed at the stuff that they are doing that we didn't do. Engagement photos? What? Showers? Nope, none of those... Hmph. I can't decide if I'm relieved that I escaped the stress involved, or disappointed that we didn't go all out. Whatevs, I guess. I'm leaving my sister in charge of planning the 'deck the hall' girls only party for the night before the reception. I figure as my pseudo maid of honour it can be her job. If anyone out there, though, wants to help her out (you know who I'm talking to, Filthy, Van-nasty) I'm sure she'd love the assistance.

Oh and a big HOLLA and a cyber-shot of fireball to van-nasty, the nasty one herself. It's her birthday, after all.

mercredi, juillet 16

all of them are talking, and they're comedians

So I'm lounging poolside yesterday (it's my Tuesday thing) (also usually my Thursday) (and sometimes my Friday, as well) and I hear this kind of buffoon loud mouth guy spouting off at the shallow end. Those of in the know hang out mid-pool, you see, because this pool is old school and the deep end is actually in the middle. Anyhoo.

This guy is spouting off at the shallow end of the pool. From what I can gather, he's there with some friends and his friends' kids. He seems to be the "Uncle Rick" kinda guy who all the wives hate and all the husbands keep around for drunken reminiscing about football and fishing and that time they lost their pants out in Surrey or what have you, until that one time where he pukes on the good carpet and the wives finally have had enough and say ENOUGH!

So this guy is in the shallow end of the pool telling his buddy's kids about how they'll have to get their mom to let them come out to his place to ride the dirt bikes the jet ski the atv whathaveyou clad in, of course, all the appropriate safety gear. His rational for this rationality is that he has a friend who has a glass eye. And why is he eye-less, you ask? Well because apparently he SHOT IT OUT WITH A BB GUN.

I don't know bout you, but the moment I heard that I went into spasms of laughter - a near apoplexy, it's true, because all I could think of was Ralphie from A Christmas Story and how he really wanted the BB Gun but his mom n teacher told him NO! for exactly that reason. And, sure enough, he nearly did but whatever.

I guess this kid's mom didn't love him enough, or maybe she'd never seen A Christmas Story.

lundi, juillet 14

beer pong for the ages

So I'm sitting here wondering, yet again, whatever makes me do things. You know - like mixing beer and tequila and wine. Not in one glass, of course, but in one belly. One mostly empty belly.

Le sigh. You'd think that by now I'd have this sheet figured out. Instead I'm sitting here nursing a stiff neck and a mild hangover with a bowl full of strawberries, a bag of pita chips and a glass of watery juice, wishing the g-darned cable people would show up so I could go get some gingerale.

Hmmm maybe if I finish off the ice cream I'll feel better about the world.

In other news... that story I put up on here a billion years ago - the one about the skateboard - was published in an online journal. That's kinda cool... In the spirit of complete disclosure, it's a journal that I did the initial design for, but it's still kinda cool, I think. I'm sure no favoritism was in play here. *ahem*.

mercredi, juillet 9

at the 100th meridian

This is a beautifully told story of the part of Canada from which I originate. It is long, but it is worth it. Trust me. I've never led you astray before, have I? Well, unless you took my hand, of course....

Hit the road, jack

So we're moving tomorrow. Yes again. I think that it has to do with my recent brain spaz issues - the non-stability of my everyday life. It's funny b/c although I can be totally spontaneous and rather unpredictable, I do love to have a certain amount of routine in my day-to-day life. I mean, to follow me around as I get ready for work in the morning (or, when I *did* get up for work in the morning) would have pretty much been the same thing day in and day out. Woe to the person who interrupted me for any reason (i.e. the architect). I lived alone for a long time - having someone feck with my rhythm took some getting used to.

Anyhoo, we're moving again. The new place is bigger and has more windows, and has crazy 11' high ceilings. We don't have a balcony for le chat, but there is a bit of a patio for the BBQ and for sitting in the evening having a glass of wine, so I'm pretty happy about that.

Plus I will get some lanterns and stuff and do some decorating, and have an herb garden again so that rules.

Mostly I'm pretty excited about having more space so a) I don't have to share my bedroom with 3 bicycles anymore and b) we can maybe do some more entertaining. This place is a bit too small for any more than a couple of people to come by.

I'm also kind of digging this working from home thing. I hang out in my jammies, listen to classical music, and tippitytap away. It's not doing a thing for my tan, but whatevs. Mama needs some new shoes. Oh and a new couch, but that's neither here nor there.

mardi, juillet 8

sixteen men on a dead man's tah-tahs

So I'm doing some contracty stuff this morning and am then off to the pool for the afternoon. I wish I could say I was the hottest chick on the deck but let's not kid - it's been a while since I was skinny. Like at least 1.5 years. I could blame the architect and say he's making me settle down. Well I guess that's part of the problem, but the other side is that I'm not working out and I'm drinking way too much. It's ok though, I guess - I mean I can still get into my jeans n crap it's just that I've got a soft belly and my boobs are fricking huge. While some of you out there may not think that's an issue I gotta tell you it's a pain in the arse when you are tshirt shopping.

Plus they have this irritating tendency to try and bust out when I dive into the pool. Our code word for this phenomenon is 'Janet' for obvious reasons, but at least it's a bit more subtle than screaming "dude your floaters are out again!".

I think, anyway.

lundi, juillet 7

performance enhancing..

Oh I'm onto you, Team Garmin-Chipotle. You think you can fool me? Nuh-uh. Chipotle sponsorship means free bean burritos means spectacular gas taking out the competition behind your cyclists. And you thought we weren't paying attention...

I wonder

who's still out there?

I'm having some trouble with the depression these past few days - yesterday especially. It's crazy sometimes how it's triggered by nothing or everything and I can feel the crash coming down. Cliched yes but it really is like a storm - clouds boiling black in the distance ozone heavy in the air. I'm not sure how today is going to go, yet - I've been awake for over an hour and am wavering between ok and pulling the blankets up over my head and wishing for it all to end. The architect is still here, you see, and I worry about when he goes and I'm left here with my thoughts.

I can't disconnect from my past, lately. Ever. It's in my dreams and in my waking thoughts. Is everyone tied to their history the way that I am? Is everyone caught up in the mistakes of the past so intensely that they come up upon you like a visceral slap to the consciousness? I swear I can still feel things as though they are happening right now - memories five years old or fifteen my brain sees no difference. How can I let these things go? Tell me how to be free from sins I've repented, from injuries I've healed, from anger I've ....

I don't know. Maybe I *am* crazy. Yesterday in the store in the middle of a panic attack trying to get on an escalator it occurred to me that this doesn't happen to other people. Other people go on about their lives putting their pasts behind them; refusing to be haunted by spectres of memory. How do they do that? How do they let it go let it slip through their fingers cut the ties?

mardi, juin 24

i like rabbits

Dude if you haven't seen the Kelly videos from The Liam Show you need to go youtube that shit NOW. I've been giggling to myself all morning - seriously.

Text Message Breakup is gloriously funny. I heart it. Oh heck I'll post it for you:

lundi, juin 23

i said i think i'm losing my mind this time

No I really might be. Last Friday I was getting out of the shower and was drying my hair and I pulled my earring out. No biggy - minor inconvenience - however the backing disappeared. Like, I heard it hit the floor but could not find it to save my life. I was on my hands and knees searching, yet nothing.

On Saturday morning, I woke up missing my nose ring. Like it was just GONE. Nowhere in the bed; nowhere on the floor; basically nowhere. I was reasonably convinced I'd had it all day the day before, and that I hadn't lost it at the pool, but seriously - nowhere to be found.

So I made due with the earrings by just grabbing backings from a pair I never wear, and yesterday I picked up a new nose screw. Whatever, just weird random things happening. Last night, though, as I was sitting on the pot, I glanced over at the tub mat. Sure enough, bold as day, there was my nose ring. I mean, the architect and I *both* looked for that thing on Saturday but nothing. And it's not like we hadn't used the bathroom at all - you'd think we would have noticed the damn thing sitting there, but no. This made me very happy because I'm not that fond of the new one - the inside the nose part is really long and it makes me feel like I've got boogers, but at least now I have a backup.

Anyhoo, this brings us to five minutes ago, when I was once again on the pot (hey, it's hot! I've been consuming a lot of fluids!) and happened to glance over at the tub mat. What to my wondering eyes should appear, in pretty much the EXACT same place as the nosering had been, but the back for my earring.

Either someone is fucking with me, or our house is haunted by tiny little poltergeists.

lundi, juin 16

le sigh

So in a classic Van-Nasty moment (you know it is so don't try and tell me any different you bonaroo huffing such and such) I searched my apartment high and low for my styley d&g knock off sunglasses (not the ones pictured below).

I was forcing myself outside, you see, since I'm pretty sure I didn't leave the house last week except to go to the pool, and I'm trying to get back into shape. Walking will help this oh yes it will.

Anyhoo, no love on the sunglasses, so I put on my big jackie-oh wannabe shades (are pictured below). I headed out the door and set off down the street and thought that perhaps people were looking at me a bit more than normal. The phone rang. I paused on the sidewalk to answer it and made eyecontact with a passerbye. I ended my call and grabbed a notepad to scribble down an appointment for apartment viewing. I attempted to push my largish shades up on my head so that I could see better. Of course I could not complete this action because my smaller (though not *small* per se) sunglasses were already perched on top of my head.

Le sigh.

disco disco! bueno bueno!

So last night the architect and I watched a bootlegged copy of The Zohan on the innerwebs. The quality was average-ish (both content and form), but there were Spanish subtitles.

It's kind of a surreal experience to watch a movie in which the dialogue is almost entirely spoken with very thick Israeli accents and is translated into Spanish.

Keep in mind that I don't actually *speak* Spanish. I am pretty sure that 90% of the time (especially in the first 5 minutes while my poor brain tried to wrap itself around the language barriers) I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Fortunately, it's not a hard movie to follow.

In other news, I'm once again apartment hunting. We've really come to realize that we need more space and so have managed to get out of our lease. Now, of course, we have to find something as nice and as cool, in a similarly great area. But bigger. Heh. Good luck.

jeudi, juin 12

scrabble eyes my sweet patootie

See those sassy shades? Once I removed them I noticed a sassy set of raccoon eyes to match.

I'm so hot.

Today the company was a little sparse around the pool. My usual compatriots were either off watching the US Open (yawn), at job interviews (shock and dismay) or actually working (the horror!). I'm hoping tomorrow will fare better, but I've managed (yet again) to sunburn my belly. I'd speculate that the sunburn works kind of like lightning, in that it hits the highest point, but my belly has yet to surpass my tah-tahs in altitude.

If I keep pouring the summery cocktails down my yap, however, that may not be the case for long.

mercredi, juin 11

boy in the box the fever is all day

So last night we went out with the architect's aunt & uncle to have some dinner. The conversation is always interesting - his uncle is seriously educated in my long-lost academic field, and his aunt is no slouch in that sense either.

After the restaurant we head back to their place for dessert and coffee and end up talking about poetry and a class I once took etc etc. I head off to use the ladies' and when I come back there is a book of women's erotica on the table. Somehow his aunt has decided to loan it to me and that it would be good readng for me.

I may have temporarily solved San Diego's energy issues - the colour of my face lit up the city for at least 5 minutes.

mardi, juin 10

all my heroes are weirdos

OK so I'm back home in SD after spending two rain soaked weeks on the left coast of British Columbia. I swear to god I can't fathom choosing to go back to June-uary. I know Vancity is amazing and all my friends and family there are incredible and I miss them terribly but man o man I cannot deal with the rain any longer.

It's funny but I didn't really feel at home there anymore. I felt sort of disconnected and lost. It's true that I don't actually *have* a home there anymore (as welcome as the kiddo and the sister made me in theirs) but still. I dunno if it's just that I've come to terms with SD as my place (which would make sense considering how *at* home I felt here from my very first visit) or it's just that (to quote a cliche) home is where the heart is, which means wherever the architect is.

I do, though, miss our house out in L-Town. I miss the big kitchen and the huge dining table that we used to crowd around to play games and have drinks, and I miss the balconies and hanging out on them, but mostly I miss the bustle of friends and family coming and going all the time. I guess that will come with time, here, but I really love the idea of a home that is open and welcome to all my friends, and one that my friends all feel comfortable and at home in, you know?

dimanche, mai 25

original prankster

OK so I'm in Vancouver. I flew in last night and have managed to keep it a total secret from my family. My friend picked me up and made arrangements for the sister and the kiddo to come to her house at 10am this morning. Heh. The look on the sister's face has been recorded on video and should soon be posted on the innerweb.

I love that shit.

jeudi, mai 22


I would like to do completely obscene things with Anthony Bourdain.


Man I dunno. I just can't get super excited about writing anymore. Like I went out and bought myself a writing prompt book, I've been reading way more, and yet every day I sit down and firefix opens this bloggity up as one of my tabs and... nothing.

It's as though I started something here and I'm caught up in what it used to be, you know? Like I have trouble envisioning it as something more. I need your help (if there are any of you left).

There are people who have been here more or less since the beginning - who've watched me go through the crazy shit with the kiddo, have watched me kind of grow up and learn shit and learn who I am and what I want to be in the world. And then there are people who caught up with me along the way and have liked where I am since then. I know a lot of people got bored when I stopped posting all the sex and when I stopped partying all the time and I think that maybe part of me got bored too.

So where do I go from here? Do I archive this and start something else? Do I give it up altogether? Or do I just grab a slice of discipline and make myself write for ten minutes a day and see where it goes?

I need your help. What do you think?

jeudi, avril 24

venice is sinking

so we were oot and aboot last night happy houring it up and i managed to fall on my bottom not once but twice and now my foot hurts and i'm hobbling around like a gimp.

so very hot.

so very graceful.

technically though it wasn't my fault - i was wearing new shoes, so that was definitely to blame for the first tumble and the architect shoved me into traffic the second time he must have taken out an impressive insurance policy on me or something yesterday.


anyhoo, i currently have a red wine headache and am STARVING. I'm totally craving fried potato products but there's no way i could make it to the nearest fast food outlet hobbling like i am. someone bring me mcdonalds hash browns STAT! i may die if i don't get them! seriously!

mercredi, avril 23

that disease comes with a hot chick and a puppy

ok if you are canadien-eh and haven't seen this week's how i met your mother, run don't walk to the nearest cbs website and watch that shizz.

brilliant, i swear. almost as good as robyn's quote in a previous episode about her coworker being a hockey player: "i'm canadian! he's a hockey player! if he was missing a tooth i'd have hit that already!"

on a discussion board i frequent, there's been some discussion about food shortages hitting the us. People are starting to hoard staples like rice n flour as the prices rise. it's interesting how food riots in africa, haiti and some asian countries barely cause a blip on the western radar (unless you are one of those crazy do-gooder radical liberals*) until costco slaps your hand for overdoing it on the starches.

while i could say amen to a fiscal impetus to cut carbs, at the same time i worry that such things will only encourage short-sighted government administrations to reward the big industrialized agriculture machines to rip out whatever crops they are currently cultivating and plant grains to the exclusion of all else, when in reality we should be looking at encouraging crop diversity and region-appropriate plantings.

le sigh.

maybe i should use some of my free time to look into starting or volunteering with organizations that plant community gardens. not that i know anything about this, and my thumb is so black i worry that it is going to fall off, but i could probably do something. it's either that or go to work for peta lobbying for soylent green.

* i'm clearly saying this tongue in cheek.

mercredi, avril 16


man i'm sorry. this working thing where i have no access to a computer really sucks. it's seriously interrupting my casual computering time and i resent it thoroughly.

not completely, though, 'cause i am anticipating my paycheque come friday afternoon. the sister will be in town this weekend and mama needs some new spring clothes.

the architect had to finish his taxes when he first arrived home last night and i wanted burgers so by the time we finished eating it was 9pm. this (combined with the lack of alky-ma-hol i drank) led to some pretty serious insomnia - like i was up till almost one and awake before 5, fell back to sleep around 6 just in time for the alarm to go off at 6.45. now i'm waiting to get into the shower but he's been lollygagging so he's cutting into my quality scrubbing time.

le sigh.

sorry for the uninspired post... bear with me for a few more days and i will be back to your regularly scheduled randomness i swear.

vendredi, avril 11

yeah so?

maybe i am getting old.
wtf i don't care.

the thought of going to farina tonight and morcheeba and then bt tomorrow night just sounded... meh.

it's not like i don't love farina and don't always have a great time when i go, it's just that essjay isn't here and i am not sure how it would go without her. even last week at sharam all i kept thinking was how weird it is without the vancity crew. i know i have to get over it it's just.


tonight the architect is snoring on the couch at 9.30pm. he works really hard and i fed him a whole bunch of wine when he got home. then we went down the road for dinner with tony dancer and drank some more. i came home and yakked it all up ('cause what would dinner be without a yak or two by me) (seriously - i think i should get a refund for every restaurant meal i puke) so i'm dead sober.

yeah i'm a bad blogger but i've worked all week with little/no innerweb access till i get home and when i do get home i gots da other craps to do. sue me.

no don't.


dimanche, avril 6


i have these recurring facets of my dreams where i'm climbing something - stairs, a hill, what have you - and just as i'm about to reach the top my legs stop working and i can't climb anymore. it's like they just collapse underneath me and am pulling myself up with my arms. it's not a pleasant feeling, and it tends to carry itself into my waking life.

anyway.... so some of you may recall that my crazyexboyfriend was a hairdresser and i spent a couple years of my life as his unpaid servant (ran the kitchen in his cafe; was his salon assistant). anyhoo... for the next two weeks i'm working as a salon assistant up the road. when i went to meet'n'greet a manicurist for a wedding day treat for the sister, my mama and i, we got to chatting and it turned out the salon she works in needed a temporary underthetable type person to do some vacation coverage. it pays ten bux an hour and cash so i said heck yeah. at the end of yesterday they paid me for the few hours i've been filling in (like 5 or something). it was a really awesome feeling - walking home from a day of work with cash in hand. we went and bought wine and groceries with money i'd earned and i felt super happy and awesome. yeah i've done a couple of the cruiseship things but for some reason this felt like real work. just different. i guess i'm really not cut out to have a sugar daddy. i like paying my own way.

vendredi, avril 4

young dumb don't see a problem

one of the classic stories of my childhood is the time that my parents took us over to a house party. i, a wannabe foodie even at the tender age of 4, helped myself to several shrimp from a platter and promptly vomited all over the place.

i'm such a joy to bring to parties.

anyhoo, fastforward to wednesday night. a new friend is a former sushi chef and wanted to come over and cook a salmon tasting menu for the architect and i. one of the appetizers was chopped salmon tartare stuffed in a mushroom and topped with a jumbo shrimp. i ate one because i was trying to be polite - if you have gone out with me or cooked for me, you know that i rarely eat seafood or shellfish or anything (firm believer in the fact that just because it lives underwater doesn't mean it's not a bug). hop skip and jump again to 4am at which time i awoke, with a burning pain in my belly. i promptly started to yak and continued to do so until 8am, at which point the architect took me to the hospital (the er at scripps-mercy has a lovely clean ladies room, by the way, but those in the bowl air fresheners are murder on the lungs when you have your head stuck in there. i can *still* smell fake flower grandma perfume, i swear.)

a bunch of tests later, they put me on an IV of saline, supplemented with a shot of anti-nauseant and dilaudid and sent me on my way. yay narcotics!

mardi, avril 1

i've been drunk since i left

so one of the folks i've met down here is this super cool vietnamese fellow who sings like dean martin. i know this is improbably and/or incongruous, but there it is. i've tried, on more than one occasion, to teach him home for a rest which is possibly the ultimate canadian drinking song. he's doing pretty well - got the tune and now just needs the lyrics down.

strangely this is the one song that i can sing without sounding like a cat that someone is using as bagpipes.

anyhoo - the architect, pho and i ended up at an irish pub last night discussing the probability of intent in the naming of various asian-type restaurants. anyone who's lived in or visited vancouver in the past ten years has probably seen pho bch nga which used to be at the corner of kingsway & victoria. pronounced phonetically, it's always worth a giggle in mixed company. ditto fuku roku. i figure that it's probably a decent sense of humour at play - why not fuck with the white folk? he figures it's not like that though... and apparently bch nga means something to do with being russian. who knew?

lundi, mars 31

the episode in which raspberry tries to get back to regular blogging, and learns a valuable lesson

ok maybe no lessons. i'm too old for that sheet. i'm also too old for douchebags. heh. last night we were out watching some new friend-type folk dj at a lounge nearby and someone said something about san diego being very conservative. i haven't noticed that, since when we first moved here we lived near and spent all our time in the primary gay neighbourhood, and then promptly rented an apartment in the heart of the secondary gay community of san-dee. not so much conservativism round these parts. our companions said something about not spending any time in pb or the gaslamp, to which i replied that i'm too old to be bothered wasting my time on people who are more interested in fashion than being good to their fellow human beings.

not that there is anything wrong with fashion - i enjoy it myself rather immensely - it's just not a huge priority for me anymore, you know? maybe it never was. i've always had my own version of style.

speaking of sheets - how awesome are wedding present giftcards? currently i'm lounging between 500 thread count wonders paid for by some of the architect's extended family. i heart that.

(heh - i can see my male readers rolling their eyes and yawning at this post, by the way - sorry guys...)

jeudi, mars 27

been drinking since half past noon

so i'm married. who'da thunk it? not i said the fly.

i did, however, get *loaded* on my wedding night. like drunk as i haven't been drunk in a long time. the kiddo was joking how he's never seen anyone need to hold on to *everything* on their way out of the lounge. i countered with the fact that i was wearing 3.5" stilettos and dared him to give walking a shot after god knows how much wine and champagne. i did manage to avoid passing out long enough to consummate the marriage once we got back to the hotel room. i was shocked and dismayed to see that there was no evidence of it on the sheet though - someone out there may have doubted my purity. fortunately the hotel staff had sprinkled rose petals around on the bed so i could fake it.


samedi, mars 22

today is the greatest

dude i'm getting married today...

jeudi, mars 20

workin on a mystery

so yesterday i had to sit down and create an excel spreadsheet that basically tracked my movements from this morning onwards - straight through to sunday morning. i included meal plans and shopping lists, and sent it to the architect for printing.

he was bemused - he assumed that (other than our three pm date with destiny) we were going to wing the whole weekend.


i was telling this little story to my mama and she apologized - i apparently get this obsessive need to organize and schedule from her. i mean, it's not like i'm planning on rigidly following it - in fact i haven't even looked at it since he brought it home - it's just that i find it extremely soothing to have it all written down. it sorts things out in my head to put them down on paper.

hence the bloggity, i suppose.


yesterday, on one of the talk threads i participate in, someone posted the topic - what's your dream job (money skills talent no object). it was interesting to me to see how many people aren't doing what they really want to be doing. and it's not like i am - here i am with days upon days of free time. i could be writing. i *should* be writing. in reality i hang out and surf the internet, read trashy novels, and clean the house. this time is kind of a gift that i'm wasting. i had all these goals for when i moved here and not really any of them has been fulfilled. i wonder if i just need some kind of structure - like is there a book or something that acts as a tool to help discipline you to write every day? like a writing class between the covers kind of thing?

i wonder.

mercredi, mars 19

i'm going where-ever it leads (warning - the post ahead will involve discussion of impending nuptuals)

so the wedding dress has landed and fits like the proverbial glove. not oj's glove, it's true, but a much nicer, ivory 100% silk glove. and that's all i'll say about that.

oh and i might be listening to the new constantines album. i had to acquire it through not-quite-kosher means 'cause it's not out in the us of a until the end of april. who can wait that long?

man so far (and I'm knocking on wood so repeatedly over here that the cat is all puffed up, legs akimbo, standing in the middle of the room staring at me) things are going pretty smoothly (last minute cold feet and jitters aside). the architect's tux is rented. my dress is altered and in house. restaurant reservations are made (with concessions made for yours truly the chef's nightmare) and the menu has been prepared. after party space is set up. hotel reservations are made. manicure appointments - check. saucy shoes - check. crazy sd folks invited to the afterparty - check.

we had originally planned on making cds for favours, but i think we are going to hold off on doing that until the reception. there are places where you can get the blank discs screened but it's way cheaper if you do it in lots of like 100. so for this event, i think i'm going to make cookies and put our little logo on it.

mind you, i'm seriously running out of time at this point so who really knows?

mardi, mars 18

running down a dream

the architect and i had a huge fight last night and now i just want to die. it's been mostly resolved but i just feel like he completely resents me and having to support me and all this shit and i want to crawl under a rock right now, or more appropriately go running away home.

i was hanging out with a couple of people yesterday afternoon and we'd been joking about getting loaded on the stoop like white trash warriors (though we ended up just having a few beer and bs-ing for a couple of hours) and, as the day wore on, the architect got more and more pissed off about that. all this time he's been encouraging me to go out with friends and not stay home by myself during the day, and i've felt super guilty about doing that. so yesterday i did and sure enough he freaked out and now i feel so fucking awful.

i can't help but think he'd be happier and better off without me. he wouldn't have to work so much and he could do his own thing and go back to motorcycle racing and having tonnes of money and and and.

samedi, mars 15

gonna wash that man

(please allow raspberry a moment as she shudders with pleasure)

dude, i forgot.

since my crazyexboyfriend and i parted ways, i've had a female hairdresser. and you know, she was pretty good: she kept up with her education and was always willing to experiment on my hair, but she was still pretty conservative and that was reflected in her style.

plus, she was a girl.

yesterday, i checked out a salon down the street. i had my hair cut by a guy for the first time in 5 years. sure he was a gay guy but it's *different* i swear. and he's got skills - you can tell the way he holds his scissors, the way he turns the hair not the hand to change the angle of the cut and therefore the way the hair will fall. it's awesome to sit there, tell him that i need a bit of length so i can updo next weekend and that's it. he takes over and even though he's running behind, gives a great cut.

this is going to be the longest 8 weeks of my life...