scra(m)bbling

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.

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.

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.

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*.

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.

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.

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?