jeudi, juillet 21

today in brief....

naturalkinds is gonna post some homemade porn.

ben allbright and creamo ciavarro have been listed on a website dedicated to blogger hotties.

newly thought he was growing up, but clearly it was a momentary lapse.

and german is still all about me....

guest blogger deux

so i wrote about how i love to love the lovely dave grohl over at german's place. take a look if you are morbidly curious....

mercredi, juillet 20

this morning...

i woke up fully clothed at my desk. fortunately i managed to colour coordinate. i guess that's the good thing about wearing a dress - not much to match up. i betcha my panties are inside out though.

my as of yet unmet soulmate figures that mornings are the best time for dancing. this makes me long for the days when i was teaching / taking classes and didn't have to be anywhere till ten am. ample time for waking up, yoga, and dancing in the sunshine peeking through the living room window.

now of course i'm at my desk before 7am. fuck. how did i make that particular wrong turn in life? i think i need to work from 10-2 monday to friday, with every other friday off (but i'll stockpile these during the winter so that in the summer i can have every sunny friday off. (and some mondays)).

or, someone could just pay my rent and buy me shoes in exchange for me doing all the cooking, the laundry, and all the sex you could ask for. (as long as it's interesting sex - i'd rather go to work for seven am than have dull boring uninspired sex)

takers? lol didn't think so....

just about right


(from the onion)



that's about right....

mardi, juillet 19

four hours sleep and counting

mutherfuckers broke into my car again last night. this is the second time in six months - again, not much taken, just general mayhem. which is to say, after two break-ins i'm down approx. 65 cents and a set of keys that open the door to my ... heart? hah! not likely. no key such as that exists. no - keys to an apartment i no longer visit. i always take my faceplate and my cds into the house with me when i stay downtown for the night, so i've not lost my copy of barry manilow's greatest hits or my emerson tape deck. *phew*

i wish they'd just man up and steal the g-darned thing. i'm getting kind of bored with the one i have and would like to begin the frustrating and seemingly interminable process of finding new wheels.

crap i'm tired and cranky today. someone say something that'll make me smile.... other than that, go see chad ciavarro. he's taking shit for being sophmoric. and tony pierce is getting name-called for blogging without being relevant (whatever the fuck that means). and my fiance wants to be distracted from paper writing.

lundi, juillet 18

in the morning

the street sounds are too much to leave the windows open all night, so we just set the fan to warp speed and throw off the quilt. he opens his eyes just after i do; looks over as though surprised to find me there. i push the hair back out of my eyes and throw off the white cotton sheet, sitting up sleepily. he reaches out and grabs me, pulls me backwards on top of him so that i'm lying on my back and his arms are wrapped around, left hand on my right breast, right hand on my left. i can feel his body waking up - body temperature rising, growing hard underneath me. he bites the curve of my collarbone... 'where do you think you're going?'... squeezed my nipples not quite hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to let me know i won't be getting up for a while. he slides one of his hands down my body, running his nails over my hipbones giving me goosebumps. the cool air from the fan kisses my skin - hot already from sleep, getting warmer from the touch of his hands.

they say it better than i...

"What are you holding out for?
What's always in the way?
Why so damn absent-minded?
Why so scared of romance?

This modern love breaks me
This modern love wastes me

Do you wanna come over and kill some time?
Tell me facts, tell me facts, tell me facts
Tell me facts
Throw your arms around me"

dimanche, juillet 17

stop the fucking presses!

the constantines are opening up for the foo fighters on august 5!

goshfukkit i'm so happy i could, well, i could do pretty much about anything right now... not only do i get to see them again asap, but they're going to get some seriously decent exposure to a bunch of lucky lucky people who may not have heard them. i'm delighted. really i am.

hot

i'm lying on my bed all sweaty in a bikini and the laptop on my, well, lap isn't doing much to help matters. ah well fucking who cares. the sun's finally out and it's hot and i love every second of it. i am the world's hugest candidate for skin cancer becauce i spent half of my childhood lobster red. i'm irish, yo, and pale as milk with freckles and dark blonde hair. i don't tan i just go from white to pink and in between. but i can't stay out of the sun 'cause i'm a leo the ra-goddess golden queen of the serengetti (which rhymes with spaghetti but probably isn't spelled the same) and it makes me feel like i'm at peace with the world.

on friday night i met up with The New Boy and his buddies for a drink after a work function. they were dEEp into the partying, if you get my drift, so it was kind of wierd to be the only non-fuckEd up person in the group, for a change. when we got back to his place he pretty much passed out cold asap. we spent most of the next morning in bed fucking, though, with the fan on and the curtains drawn, then got up when the clouds parted and went and sat on a patio for brunch. he couldn't figure out why he felt so crappy the next day. i pointed out that he was probably a little dehydrated, as he'd been drinking whiskey instead of water. 'why would you let me do that?' he asked. 'cause i'm your girlfriend not your mom. why would i stop you, as long as i'm keeping an eye on you and know you aren't in any danger?' 'sometimes maybe you should act like my mom.' 'but then you wouldn't want to have sex with me and that would be a Very Bad Thing.' 'good point'.

his friend sat down beside me at one point and told me how much NB likes me, but that he's having trouble trusting women 'cause of "what happened". he then proceeded to tell me what why the marriage ended, and that i should just be really supportive and understanding for the next couple of weeks. this isn't information that NB chose to share with me (he's intensely private), so i am not sure what to do with it. it's nice to know that he's spoken about me, to his friends, though, and i guess highly enough that this one felt like he should share with me. freaks me out, a little, though. ah well - we'll see, i guess.

vendredi, juillet 15

*blush*

**EDIT*** please link to his eminence don ciavarro here. the love is not gone - it just can't spell. one of the side effects you know **EDIT***

ok i admit it. now and again, i develop crushes (for lack of a better word) on my fellow bloggers. as i've explained before, i am susceptible to losing myself in imaginary worlds of words. that is, i rarely get crazy over movie or television stars, but writers (fictional or lyrical (hi, dave! call me!)) or even (weirdly often moreso) people who only exist in words? man i'm lost.

so i regularly develop crushes on people who write blogs. one of my first was mr. newly. we've since then become friends - he even celebrated the new year in whistler with mike b, the divine ms. u and i.

i think my second was don ciavarro. he's got just the right amount of bitter flavouring his writing. i think he's foresaken me for another woman though.

now i get these crushes for a variety of reasons. firstly, you have to stimulate me intellectually. the way to my heart (and when i say heart i mean... you know) is to make my brain spin - be super smart. i'm always learning - no man (or woman) who can't teach me something will share my bed or my world, or even hold my interest, for very long.

your sense of 'self' also has to shine through your writing. i'm not deluded - i am, perhaps more than anyone, aware that what is portrayed here is a seriously filtered representation of any personality, but it's not hard to divine the true essence of a person through the words and images they show to the world.

and that sense of self has to have a bit of a darkness to it. i'm not interested in someone who's shiny happy - either they're lying to themselves, lying to the world, or are vaguely psychopathic. i like passion - and passion isn't always pink and sparkly.

finally - you have to be funny. if you can't make me laugh i'll just keep walking. or typing. or whatever.

so anyway, i currently have three crushes. right now, all are men, but that's not always the case. they are, in no particular order:


  • jake bronstein - he writes with skill and wit. he's really hot. he posts pictures of his penis. 'nuff said.
  • german - he gets really passionate about music (which ranks a close second to books in my world). also funny. more importantly, he's managed to do this while living in alberta. must be quite the man....
  • naturalkinds - now this person i'm very intrigued by. he reminds me of someone; i remind him of someone. he lives in the academic world which i abandoned, but which calls to me almost every waking moment (the stephen greenblatt quotation which completely and accurately reflects my critical stance on art, history and literature is pinned up by my computer monitor here at work to remind me of who i really am). he writes with raw honesty - be it personal or intellectual. and he does make me giggle.


with the exception of jake bronstein, i have no idea what these people look like - how old they are - *who* they are. which makes it kind of fun - i can invent them in my head and (should i ever meet them or see a photo) see how close i come to the truth.

anyhoo... there's not much point to this post. it was just something i was considering last night when i couldn't sleep and was lying there pondering where things are going (or not going) with The New Boy. it's not as though i don't look for these things in real life, too - it's just that, face to face, i need more than intellectual stimulation. i also need that instant chemical reaction to drive the blood pounding through my ears and my body and my brain and my heart.

jeudi, juillet 14

yawn

so my general ennui is always lurking in the shadows of my happiness. i can't help but feel just a little... dissatisfied. i don't know if this is a good thing or a bad - dissatisfaction keeps me striving for better, right? but at the same time i should be able to accept things for what they are and find quiet joy within.

i know the source of my unease - the new boy talks about the end as though it is inevitable. he has no specific date - just the knowledge that it will happen. this makes no sense to me - why waste time getting to know someone if you basically have no sense of ... not a future, per se, but at least a possibility of a future? you may as well just rub up against a stranger in the dark. at least that way you still get the adrenaline rush of *new*, of *different*, of *adventure*. i think. if i want to FUCK i'll fuck. i'll hook up with n2, or with the porn star, or with carlot boy. i would just like to have something more. for a little while, anyway.

i can't decide what bothers me more - the fact that he just assumes i'm like all the other girls he's ever dated, or that it bothers me that he assumes i'm just like all the other girls he's ever dated. i mean, who gives a fuck? i rule - if he can't figure that out then that's his problem, right?

well, such is the theory, anyway.

anyhoo - anybody want to come to vancouver and hook up with a little blonde who likes alliteration and between-the-covers games; who gets super turned on by slight touches to the lower back and the base of the neck; who has a sex drive that is, quite frankly, alarming at times; who gets super horny whenever she drinks; who is a little afraid of relationships but is trying really hard to stop that fear from poisoning her interaction with people; who just wants to be the most beautiful girl in the world for *some*body?

mardi, juillet 12

guest blogger

oh it's my turn to play. go see german

I know her only as raspberry

I'm German. I run Fook The People. I'm guest blogging. Here we go:

About my name:
It's Spanish ok? It's pronounced Herman. I work in retail so I get a lot of people calling me German like the language. It used to piss me off, but I let it go since it's only natural that people call me german. I'm more relaxed in my later years. Right now we have a techie who's real name is Herman, but people still think of me as the original Herman. Then I feel my ego inflate.


About music in general:
People need to start to listen to Canadian music right now. Me and raspberry and a whole lot of canadian bloggers such as raymi, ciavarro, fil, and the rest, know that the shit is good. Bands like The Arcade Fire you know, but do you know The Constantines? Broken Social Scene? Apostle Of Hustle? K-Os? Sam Roberts? The Dears? Metric? Feist? The Floor? Wolf Eyes? Wolf Parade? What about Death From Above 1979? They're fucking amazing. Why are you still standing there? Start up Limewire and get at it. Anyways, what's cool in my music world now:
- New Young Pony Club
- Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!
- Tsar (damn that Tony)
- Art Brut
- old Eric B and Rakim
- Spoon

About Vancouver:
We're so different, it's not even funny. Your "winter" is more like a bad summer day. You get all the bands, all of them, that I want to see. Last two times I went there for Radiohead and John Mayer (don't ask), the White Stripes and the Yeah yeah yeah's were playing afterwards. Fuck that shit man! I hate that! I understand we're hick central, but man, I'm just jealous. I hate vancouver because I love it. Expect for the whole Provincial Sales tax, that's like so not cool.


About sex:
This site is sex filled. I think it's why it's so popular. So I'm going to add in:
- Yes I love butts. I really don't care if there's not much in the front, but a nice firm ass is well worth it.
- I haven't done this in a while, but haveing sex in a car outside is amazing. I dunno why, but seeing those pictures of those people getting busted made me want to try that again. Public display of sexual affection is great.
- The female pussy fart is fascinating. Actually that whole section is facinating.
- Breasts are also fascinating. That's why we stare at them. We can't control ourselves. It's like a fucking magnet to eyes.

About raspberry:
Here's a jarring thing I've noticed about raspberry. It's that I call her raspberry. I know more about what type of music she listens to, how her son can make the best mix tape it would make Zach Braff jealous, how she likes kisses with some teeth involved, and more about her sex life than I think problaby her own mother. But, what's her first name? So...what is it raspberry? Why so private?

Enjoy the rest of the blog.

lundi, juillet 11

we now return to our regularly scheduled program

dude i just saw an ad for the new dukes of hazzard movie with jessica simpson, johnny knoxville and stifler. i know it's a train wreck. *you* know it's a train wreck. am i still going to see it? hell ya.

friday nights, after we went shopping with my folks, we used to get to stay up till ten o'clock ten o'clock to watch the dukes on tv. they were on starting at 9 and there was HELL to pay from my sister and i if we weren't home in time.

the day they changed the time slot from nine to eight was a turning point in my childhood - nothing was ever the same again, really. loss of innocence and all that crapola.

seriously, though, i'm always interested to think about the kinds of things that stand out as monumental in retrospect. they're almost always things that are inconsequential as they happen - like the time shift for the dukes. up till then, it was a big deal for us to stay up till ten pm to watch the end of our program. when they made the change, we found that we could still stay up till ten, but there wasn't really anything to watch so we didn't want to. that's huge - to be a kid and be *able* to stay up, but kind of go to bed voluntarily.

then, of course, was the day a few years ago when i discovered the dukes in syndication on some cable channel - probably the nashville network or some such - and made the mistake of watching it. was *nowhere* near as cool as i remember. sort of depressing, really.

anyway, i'll probably go see the dukes. i'll probably laugh a bit (stifler cracks me up - see previous comments about how laughing really hard makes me, well, feel fuzzy in my fun bits). but, generally, it'll suck - despite the monumental coolness of willie nelson as uncle jesse. 'cause dammit that's just way cool.

dimanche, juillet 10

Not seen in these parts

So, the big guest post. By me.

This will give this blog and its readers something not seen in an age.

Proper capitalization.

The easiest thing to do when you are a guest blogger, I would imagine, would be to blog about being a guest blogger.

Done. Now, let's move along.

I want to ask you folks a question.

Let's say you see a greasy, sweaty guy walking towards you. If you need help imagining this scenario, just think of me.

He's so gross, you think "ripe". Your paths are going to cross, you're about to enter his trail of odour.

Or so you assume.

Does curiosity ever overtake you? How bad could this person actually stink? Do you ever inhale super deeply, with your eyes closed, just to see?

I do.

I wonder if other people do that. When there is something that looks stinky, do they inhale harder, just to see.

It's like sticking your tongue on a 9-volt battery. Just to see. (By the way, doesn't just the thought of the 9-volt battery bring back that tingly metal taste in your mouth? Yum, I feel like having electricity for lunch.)



Now that I've gone public with this, I expect people to be sniffing after me as I wander the city.

Enjoy the scent.

I sure enjoyed making it.

samedi, juillet 9

yesterday

so yesterday, ciavarro asked me to procreate with him. i don't take those types of requests lightly - i give each one (and let me tell you i get them at least fortnightly - people see how cute i am, pay witness to the genetic wonder of athleticism, intelligence and beauty that is the kiddo - and just want to BREED with me. *ahem* anyway). i've asked for a photographic presentation of his family tree, preferably in powerpoint, several years worth of tax returns, his last set of university transcrips, and some naked webcam images of himself.

a girl can't be too careful you know.

no i'm kidding. seriously - you know me. if you want to make the beast with two backs you just have to buy me dinner, keep my glass full of red wine and make me laugh so hard i get tears in my eyes. then you have to kiss me.. just.. right. it's all about that first kiss. how much pressure... how much tongue.. using the right amount of teeth on my bottom lip... wrapping your fingers in my hair at the back of my head and giving a little tug.. and (most importantly) NOT making smerpy noises. i hate the noises. little moans of pleasure are perfect. smacky smacky noises are a wonder killer for sure.

so the jury's still out on whether or not there will be little raspberry ciavarros running around. i have, in the meantime, invited him to guest blog. kind of the same, but different.

lazy saturdae

so after another fun filled tubercular evening, i finally fell asleep sometime around six and slept straight through till nine thirty. the new boy went off to smoke cigars, drink beer and play poker last night, so i don't imagine i'll be hearing from him anytime soon.

which is ok.

or is it?

yeah, it is. i feel crappy, my space is a mess, and i need some alone time.

anyhoooooo... since i was feeling so crappy yesterday morning i stayed home from work to sleep the am hours away. got up around noon-ish, showered and dressed and drove into town to watch scary movies at the boy's flat. i'm lying on his couch in my thong and a tshirt, and he's lying behind me. i love the fact that we are still at the point where we just make out pretty much all the time. like, as soon as i tucked my ass up against his pelvis, i could feel him react. and that's the way it ALWAYS happens.

(as an aside, the crazy exboyfriend and i were together for three years and had that effect on each other the whole time. it's sad when two people have a six month or year long honeymoon period then things start to be less exciting - i have way too much sex drive for that to wash. basically, if i'm not fucking you i'm fucking someone else. sad but true.)

so where was i going with all this? huh. can't remember. needless to say, i missed a significant chunk of the movie, but that's ok. i'd way rather fuck (or in this case, not fuck but give him a very good time) than watch tv, you know?

------------------------------------------------------------------------

i've been lying here doing the next blog next blog thing. this is interesting to me 'cause it's kind of like random voyeurism - like wandering down a city street after dark and looking in people's living room windows to see what they're doing, what they're watching, who they're with. most of the stuff out there is crap. now in saying this, please understand that i fully support everyone's right to publish their own crap. but you have to also respect the fact that i'm not gonna read it. also, in saying this please understand that i'm not placing myself above anyone - i can keep up with the best of 'em in the inane drivel departments (see above paragraphs on couch session). what i'm trying to say here is (as she makes lassooing motions with her arm to try and corral her own point) sometimes you come across some interesting stuff - this morning i found naturalkinds. seems to be a newly started personal type blog, but i like the quality of his writing. sort of reminds me of the now-defunct greg the boyfriend. so i think i'll add him to the sidebar and see how it shapes up.

the cool thing about reading good writing is that it makes me want to write better. i've taken some of tony pierce's rules for blogging to heart. some of them, of course, i ignore 'cause that's the kind of girl i am. but i have been trying to write more... creatively. so that's where some of the weird crap has come from lately - hope you don't mind. personally, my favourite thing that i've written recently was the bit about the sex at the church. but that's just me.

vendredi, juillet 8

fun!

Pink RCircle-ASPDSC00046ERadio City \RWhy?pinkSUnDa

i'll be your huckleberry

the consumption is back. me & val kilmer are playing cards on the deck of a riverboat, handkerchiefs at the ready, voluptuous showgirls with feather boas standing by to fill our glasses with whiskey and collect our winnings from the table.

once, we found ourselves at odds with some of the locals. you know how it is - big fish in small ponds figure they get to make all the waves. we showed them - took their money, made out with their women, and shot up the place before riding off into the sunset. good times.

me & doc, we got a special relationship. sure there are moments of jealousy- like when we both cast our eye on the same dolly at the bar, or when we find a particularly nice mother of pearl pistol grip, or it comes down to the last shot in the bottle. but then we just look at each other, give that special smile we share, grab the dancer girl and take her upstairs. cause what's more fun that two gunslingers and a girl in a bed? two girls in bed with a gunslinger.

mercredi, juillet 6

hump day

tony pierce say:
maybe thats when people should get hitched and breed, when they dont give a fuck any more.


the new boy say that eventually he'll make me sad. he say that i'm just so *good* that everything about me is *good* and how did i get tangled up with him. the new boy say that eventually it will end - it always does - that eventually i'll get mad and will yell and it will be over and he hates the thought of the day that he disappoints me.

maybe my problem is that i still give a fuck.

lundi, juillet 4

top ten

songs you will never hear at my (hypothetical) wedding

10. i like that old time rock'n'roll - bob seger? pete seeger? who cares
9. girls just want to have fun - cyndi lauper
8. i will always love you - oh whitney. what have you done?
7. ymca - the village people
6. la bamba - los lobos
5. anything country, except johnny cash. he's not really wedding-friendly, though, is he?
4. who let the dogs out - does it really matter? any version of this song, performed by any artist, is off limits.
3. i knew the bride when she used to rock and roll. - she still does. fucker.
2. your mama don't dance and your daddy don't etc etc...

and the number one song ne'er to be played is...

that fucking chicken song.

there are so many more... so many more...... sorry if i've offended anyone who is deeply touched by the schlock and cheese of the songs previous.

back

weddings do funny things to me. wait - i need coffee before i can write this.

k better. the world is a better place when viewed from over your first cup of coffee in the morning.

anyhoo... weddings do funny things to me. it wasn't till about five years ago that i even thought i *wanted* to get married. then, when i was backpacking, i came to the realization that i wanted to have someone to spend the rest of my life with. unfortunately, i was dating the crazy exboyfriend at the time. fortunately, we *didn't* get married. so on saturday, i'm sitting at the wedding of people i don't really know - have met the bride once before - and thinking to myself that it's still really something i want to do. the problem which poses itself, at this point, is how the fuck does THAT happen? kids, i'm kind of old, and i don't really want more children. sort of puts me out of the market, you know? alrighting then. bummer out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

in other worlds, we saw some crazy ass shit on the drive this weekend.

1. a single bed bounced out of the back of a truck going down the #1 and narrowly missed hitting the car in the lane next to us. the car swerved and stopped, the bed kept on bouncing to freedom.

2. at one point, it was raining so hard we were driving through at least three inches of standing water flooding the highway.

3. we saw two very very narrowly avoided head on collisions nearly caused by people driving like assholes and trying to pass when there was not anywhere near enough room. we are talking barely averted 10 car pile ups in which we would have been involved.

4. a dog (lab/german shepard sized) ran out into the highway and was cut in half by the semi driving right in front of us. cut. in. half. *shudders*

5. i think there was other stuff - i'll try and remember it...

edit -

6. i saw some guy throw a lit firecracker out of his car window in front of another car on a bridge just outside of hope. fortunately, the other car could brake and avoid - a swerve would have meant hitting us or going into the guardrail.

also - i finally introduced The New Boy to mike b....

vendredi, juillet 1

only hippes make fun of people with daily jobs

ok i'm out for a few days. not like i've been super present for the last week. which is *not* to say that there haven't been things to talk about. oh there have. oh my oh my there have.

this weekend is mike b's birthday as well - i remembered about thirty seconds ago and am not sure how i'm going to navigate that what with the going away this weekend and the not having a gifty etc etc. it's not that i'm a bad friend, it's just that i lost my little book with the dates of all my friends and i've been a little distracted this last while. so ya, i guess i'm a bad friend.

in case you are curious - no i'm not a hippy. though i do have a bit of granola in my sushi, i hate the stink of patchouli, don't own birkenstocks nor a peasant skirt, wash my well-styled hair with frightening regularity and paint my toenails.

i did, however, always picture myself being employed in a way which allowed me to structure my own hours and take the summers off - whch is to say, i figured i'd be working in academia. you know - wearing tweed, smoking a pipe, and pompously expounding on the comparative merits of proust and racine. but whatever - spreadsheets are fun too, right?

jeudi, juin 30

happy birthday, canada

we watched some crazy man verbally assault people, this evening, as we carried our iced teas down the drive in the sunshine. he wore red and black, wide brimmed hat shading his eyes from the evening glare - you know how the sun hits *that point* in the sky when there's really no escaping it, when the sun visors can't help no matter how tall you are.

"i hate fucking canadians!" he said as he lurched back and forth. "fuck canada!" i stared back at him, feeling the boy's arm tighten beneath my hand. "don't," i said. "don't provoke it."

the man in the red shirt lurched onto the bus through the back door. the bus doors remained open - we could hear him lambasting the driver before he lurched back down the stairs. "i'm calling 911." the boy said. "he's going to hurt someone."

fucking canadians indeed.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

i'm going home for the weekend, kids. have fun with the barbeques and the fireworks and the jazz fests and the ball tournaments and all the other good ways you celebrate this birthday of all birthdays....

samedi, juin 25

friday night

in the absence of a patio we sat in the sunporch, resting on antique wooden dining chairs too refined for the quality of language and victuals. our feet were up on the sill, windows open. he leaned slightly out, watching the breeze catch his cigarette smoke and wisp it away. i balanced the plate of take out pasta on my lap, beer in hand, and speculated upon the fiscal circumstances of the man pulling up for pizza across the street. i gestured extravagantly, narrowly avoiding losing both my beer and my dinner to the tiled floor. he looked at me amused - brow furrowed in the way it sometimes does. i can tell that he's not sure how to take me - not sure how to tell when i'm seriously empassioned and when i'm just playing for the crowds. after all, the world is just a stage, and we had the front row seat.

jeudi, juin 23

i am

feeling irritated with my friends. kind of all of them, in general, but not for reasons that are individual. like everyone has good reasons for doing the stuff that they've done which irks me, and in a one on one situation i'd be able to deal with the crap. it's just that a bunch of things have happened in the last week and so when you lump all the things together i get irritated. it's like there's an ill wind blowing, or something in the air, or one of those other pithy cliches.

foo fighters presales are today. i asked the new boy if he wanted to go, but he's not interested. this is good, cause i'll be free to lurk at the back door and try to steal the chance to profess my undying love for mr dave grohl. i sure am ok with that, and clearly in that he's declined to accompany me. home free, as they say.

anyhoo.. i'm supposed to be at work. i'd best get back to it.

dimanche, juin 19

from spirit fingers via maktaaq...

i'm a posting machine, aren't i?

an exerpt:

PARIS - Joy turned to tragedy in the early hours of the morning when Tom Cruise accidentally snapped his Katie Holme's neck while in the throes of passion. The pair of lovebirds had just announced their engagement at a packed press conference when Tom manfully grabbed Katie's hair. He then pulled her head into a clinch to prepare for a macho show of affection. However the brute force of his loving left arm against Katie's throat was too much pressure for her neck vertebrae to bear.

Shocked onlookers said that Tom was unable to hear the lethal snap of his fiancee's bones over his maniacal laughter as he described what a magnificent, extraodinary and unbelievable woman Katie was. Even as her body went limp, he continued to whisper into his lover's ear "are you OK?" and "darling, smile for the cameras". It was only after the Batman Begins star failed to respond to the words "if you don't wake up now Dakota (Fanning) is more than happy to take your place" when Tom knew that something was wrong.

the rune say

Thurisaz
The Gate
The God Thor
________________________________________________________________________

Thurisaz

Thurisaz indicates the presence of new options opening before you. However, it is advised to stop in front of the gate before crossing it, to look at the road that led you up to here.

This Rune points toward the need of not acting yet, but to examine past experiences and circumstances before continuing towards success. It is not a moment to make decisions, but rather to strengthen your ability to wait.

Review your past closely. Observe it, bless it, and let go of everything you need to let go of. Then cross the door.

deep water

didn't go out with number two. clearly. it's fucking twelve-fifteen and i'm here writing to you. how sweet.

'have to move really slow. deep water' he said. you mean you are deep water? or i'm in deep water. is that the same as being in hot water? 'no, i'm deep water. have to move really slow. you're like a little creek.' oh you think so? i ask. i don't think you have any idea. 'oh i know. i'm good at figuring people out.' shit, well since you've got me sorted, maybe you can explain me to me. 'sure, i'll explain you. someday.'

oh sweetie you have no idea. look at you making the same mistake everyone makes - taking what you see on the surface to be the sum of who i am. do you know how long it takes to get below? do you have any idea? i never thought you, of all people, would underestimate me. i think that hurts more than anything. interesting, though. it maybe gives me the little piece of contempt i need - the little piece of contempt i usually find beneath the blankets of another man's bed.

samedi, juin 18

update

new boy called from away... we tiptoed gingerly around for a few minutes then fell back into easy conversation. he's going to call back when he's drunk and it's dark. it's so much easier to talk about stuff when it's dark, isn't it?

will i go out with the other this evening? not sure - i just screened him. he'll call back. he always does...

in other news - my papa has returned from ireland, just in time for dad's day. he came bearing football jerseys for the new boy and the kiddo, and a boxing club sweatshirt for me (established 1972 - a good year, i must say). yay, dad!

do it

go read tony pierce. i found him via mblog. he's fucking brilliant.

i'm gonna be dropping the f-bomb all day, so if you are easily offended by bad language fuck right off.

stink

what, nobody knows how to fix my computer? fine. thanks. bleh.

what happened to swizzalish? anyone know? she's just... gone. so strange...

so i was supposed to go hang with The New Boy last night. i spoke with him in the afternoon, and said that i'd head home to change then come straight downtown. which i did. and hung around killing time without being able to get a hold of him for two hours. mike b rescued me from my tedium and we went to grab a bite. new boy finally called - he bailed on our plans. i called bullshit on his 'nothing is wrong' and said (you know, since i was a block and a half from his house and had wasted half an evening waiting for him) i'd come talk to him when i was done eating. decided against eating and for drinking. did that. went to the new boy's place. stood outside with him so he could smoke to figure out what the fuck. he said he'd had a bad day, and wanted to hang with his buddies and have some space. i'm supposed to relax - everything is good with us. he just wants to be, basically around everybody he knows except me, 'cause he doesn't want to be around me when he's in the space he's in. but i'm not supposed to take it seriously. it's not supposed to hurt.

fucker.

so i came home. made a date to see someone i went out with once or twice way back in like.. march or something. april maybe - back at the start of this shit with the new boy when there was still r- and i hadn't said 'i'm not seeing anyone else'. i'll let him pick me up, buy me dinner, get me drunk, and maybe let him fuck me. maybe not. if i do i'll be able to step back from the new boy - regain some fucking strength, some fucking emotional distance.

i can't decide if i'm freaking out 'cause i have so much fucking back story and 'cause i like him and i DON'T KNOW HOW HE FEELS and it scares the shit out of me. i told him that - he told me not to be afraid. i've heard that before. he thinks it's nothing to be upset about, and maybe he's right. the other option, though, is that i just don't give a shit. would he prefer that? no, he says, but he'd accept that as who i am. what does that mean?

ah fuck it. i'm not going to give a shit. i'm going to get my hair cut and go back to seeing other people and just let him drift away. or i'm going to try, rather. i've never been much of a master over my own emotions.

jeudi, juin 16

hands... shaking... withdrawl... setting.. in

ok my computer is fucked. when i turn it on, it doesn't boot, and the monitor goes straight into the power save mode.

somebody out there must be a smarty pants - help me pretty pretty please?

mardi, juin 14

dilemma

so the porn star wants me to have a threesome with him and one of his buddies. he sent me a photo - they're of a similar size and body shape, which leads me to believe they may be similarly endowed (*fans self*). they're both good looking men. the temptation is... there.

so what to do about The New Boy? The New Boy who i just talked to for a half an hour. The New Boy who wants to take me for for a drink, and for dinner, and maybe to the movies tomorrow night 'cause i'm feeling a little neglected in that boyfriend/girlfriend one on one sort of attention. The New Boy who is very sweet and who scares me to my core 'cause i actually really like him?

how does he stack up when i close my eyes and think of being between two men who outweigh me by probably close to 80lbs each; who tower over me; TWO of them? together? at the same time? mouths, hands, arms... all that stuff.

see, this is my problem with having a boyfriend. am i willing to give up the chance to *DO* shit like this, because i told someone that i wasn't going to see other people anymore?

oooooo purity test...

My Purity Report - Compared to Others
Category
- Lower - - Low - --- Average --- - High - - Higher -
Sexual:
99%
Homosexual:
99%
Nerdiness:
27%
Healthiness:
43%
Financial:
56%
Criminal:
93%
Drug Use:
99%
Grossness:
70%
Report By NerdTests.com. Click Here to get your purity scores!


whatdja get, huh?

wonder

what china would make of us here at the sundae sanatorium?

lundi, juin 13

upon consulting the runes after an evening of bad dreams about The New Boy

The Wyrd
Destiny / The Unknowable
The White Rune
________________________________________________________________________

This is the Rune of absolute trust. In its symbolism, the White Rune represents real hope: a present full of possibilities. Both pregnant and empty, it keeps within it the force of an undiluted potential. All your fertile dreams and your highest well-being are contained in its whiteness. It often requires an act of courage equal to jumping into the void with empty hands.

The Wyrd reminds you that the past obstacles could well become the doors that open towards new beginnings. The Void is the end, the Void is the beginning.
________________________________________________________________________

samedi, juin 11

chocolate croissant

i've gotten into the bad habit of picking up a chocolate croissant and a coffee from the 'bucks down the way from The New Boy's place when i leave in the mornings. at first, i tried to tell myself that it was hangover prevention. however, this morning, being no hangover to ward off, i used the "wow these must be fresh - the shop JUST opened" justification. i can feel my gut grow even as we speak - sadly, my ass remains un-plump.

goshfukkit i need an adventure. The New Boy is off surfing with 'the boys' for the weekend. i look forward to laundry and a market day with my mama. how did i become so dull so quickly? i recall the heady days of fucking in a churchyard in the pouring rain. that was, what, six weeks ago? no.. longer now i think.

hold up here, it's not all that bad - yesterday morning i arrived home at 5.35am, covered in olive oil and sweat - still half drunk on red wine and sex - hopped into the shower and went to work. last night i went to the beach to eat sushi and drink beer. crawled into bed. arms wrapped tightly around me.. slow kisses on the lips, the cheek, the eyes. the neck. whisper in my ear - "baby did you come lots last night?" oh yes. "kiss me. take me all in. make me come with your mouth".



(colleague says to me "what's up with rori?" not sure, i reply. he's 'making things work' with his g.f. i only hear from him when things are rocky or he's bored with the sex. "well you wouldn't fuck him anymore anyway, would you? because of The New Boy?" no, i respond. of course not. but that's not really the truth, is it? would i fuck him again? i don't know.... that's the true answer)

x-treme lite

so i'm doing the 'drive of shame' home at 6.45-ish this morning (after having stopped at 'bucks for a grande americano, natch) and find myself travelling behind a trailer with 'X-TREME LITE' plastered across the back of it.

normally i would have applied my clicker and left such nonsense safely behind, where it could not pollute my brainwaves with it's '90s marketing faux edginess, but (being still half asleep) i followed for a while and stared blankly in disbelief.

X-TREME LITE? what does that even MEAN? it's like white water kayaking, but in a swimming pool? rock-climbing, but on an elementary school jungle gym? surfing, but on the internet?

hmphf.

mercredi, juin 8

bad joke alert

courtesy of popbitch...

Q: What did the German watch repairer say to his
watch that would only go 'tick, tick, tick'?


A: Ve have vays of making you tock.

lundi, juin 6

help, please

ok so here's the thing. i have this strong sense of foreboding in my belly - like my spidey senses are all telling me that there's something *not right* with me and the new boy.

however, for all intents and purposes, things seem to be fine. we all know my propensity for Le Grand Freak Out. so am i just freaking out? are things just so good that i'm projecting my fears and insecurities onto the situation as a sick way of self-destruction? or are things actually not good?

yesterday when i left his house i called and asked if everything was ok. "of course," he replied. he had just seemed a little off. "relax - everything's fine. don't freak out," he told me.

relax. everything is fine. don't freak out.

except my gut's pretty good. is it my gut? or is it my fucked up head, trying to make a pre-emptive split? you know, the classic 'bust out before you get busted out' move?

advice, please.

vendredi, juin 3

tfgif

all i can say is thank fucking christ it's finally friday. this has been a long crappy week - on par with the long crappy weeks i was having at the end of last summer. there's no rhyme nor reason to it, really. i've got the utes a bit, and work has been less than satisfying, but seriously - i had a long weekend last weekend, i got lots of sun, i saw my sister (yay! sister!), The New Boy is grand... i've just felt like crapola.

so hopefully this weekend will bring... a change. a new weather system. a new something 'cause i don't think i can take much more.....

mardi, mai 31

day two

still bitchy. mind you, to quote a co-worker, i'm positively effervescent compared to yesterday...

had a loverly chat with the half-corked New Boy last night... we are going on a quest for loons one of these weekends... since we both grew up in the north, part of what we remember most about summers as kids is being out at the lake listening to loons cry all night long... just the thought of it makes me homesick.

bleh. cheer up sundae.

lundi, mai 30

all aboard the ss grumpasaurus

ever have one of those days when absolutely everybody grates on your nerves? like for the smallest, stupidest things? and even though you acknowledge the fact that you are an irrational grump, but somehow, it's really everybody else's fault?

i'm having one of those days.

dimanche, mai 29

top ten

... strangest places to be sunburned.

10 - top of the feet
9 - behind the ear
8 - hair's partline
7 - armpit
6 - behind the knees
5 - inner thigh
4 - bottoms of the feet
3 - eyelids
2 - under the chin
1 - inside your belly button

guess which ones i managed to accomplish this weekend?

touch the heaven

ok i found heaven. it's a hammock in a backyard in victoria, clothed only by 30degree sunshine and a bikini, good novel beside me, beer cooler within arm's reach and the most perfect view of half naked cute boys doing manual labour. i didn't ever want to wake up.....

mercredi, mai 25

happy birthday ralph waldo

"I hope in these days we have heard the last of conformity and consistency. Let the words be gazetted and ridiculous henceforward... Let us affront and reprimand the smooth mediocrity and squalid contentment of the times, and hurl in the face of custom, and trade, and office, the fact which is the upshot of all history that there is a great responsible thinker and actor moving wherever moves a man."

or woman, i would add.

thank god for maktaaq. without her i'd figure i was talking to myself out here.... well,, actually, i am. but i never really listen to myself....

lundi, mai 23

baby you can call me al

went to mark farina last night with the divine ms. u... ran into the everylovely swizzalish and her crew of fun kids... i spent every single everloving moment of both dj heather's and mark farina's sets front and centre on the floor, hands up loving every single bass pulsing moment. the two of us crawled into bed with The New Boy round about five am... he was the luckiest kid on the block for sure, except that he couldn't lie between us 'cause we "vibratEd with EnErgy" and it was a little too much for him... (mind you the two of us together are probably a little much for anyone...)

i started off in a boy's tshirt and a thong.. after about an hour he reached down and said "baby i NEED you to take this off" and pulled the shirt up over my head. he tugged at my panties sort of wistfully, prompting ms. u to sleepily remind us of our "company manners"... this morning he said "why can't i wake up everyday to have bras all over my floor and two girls in my bed?" why, indeed....

dimanche, mai 22

geyser

i'm bubbling over with a nervous anxiety for which there is no real source. ran away to mike b - curled up in his arms and tried to talk talk talk it away but to no avail. i simply poured food over it in the hopes that i could pack it down, pack it down.

i looked at you across the table last night - i looked at you and thought to myself this could be somebody. you could be somebody. (of course you're somebody, why wouldn't you be? you are somebody with a past and a present and a future and my place in those places is.. ephemeral at best. you're somebody and i'm somebody and the real question is can we be somebody together?)

you see, i'm very empathetic. i can pick up on people's moods like a divining rod zeros in on butterfly tears. but i don't know how, you see, i've never been taught what to do with that information - how to detach your feelings from my feelings and realize that sometimes people shine dark purple for reasons that are their own and have nothing to do with me. ("can i tell you the secret of life?" she asked... "of course". "it's not all about you")

so this morning i came home and got in the shower and started to think - my brain started running down that same old trail thinking about how i only really like the ones that are no good and so what does that say about you when i like you this much? then it got all tangled up in my head and my heart started to pound and hands shaking and breathing shallow and i ran to mike to calm me down, talk me down.

- "can you tell me why you like him?"
- "no.. i just do. i just feel very comfortable when i'm with him. it just feels right. and he makes me laugh".
- "maybe if you don't know then you don't really."
- "maybe. i just don't know what to do."
- "maybe you don't have to do anything at all."

vendredi, mai 20

mmmmmmvodka

Vodka
Vodka


?? Which Alcoholic Drink Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

from maktaaq

I will be crushed by a giant duck!



How will you die? Take the Exotic Cause of Death Test

hmph.

so my crazy exboyfriend checked in today for his 'every couple of months' call. he can't get past my high-tech security system (i.e. the kiddo), so i haven't actually spoken to him in over a year.

today when he called, the kiddo finally had enough - he was all set to give him a piece of his mind, when my dad also picked up the phone. so the kiddo hung up. i noticed that, on a little yellow sticky note on the upstairs counter, there is a phone number. so i'm trying to avoid it. my world is a better place without him in it, but still i feel the call of the phone number....

mercredi, mai 18

random confession #608

dear indie band bass player.

you know who you are, writhing on the stage in your acid wash denim vest. how i long to clasp the zipper tab and slowly slowly ease it away from its nesting place right under your chin, silkily revealing your complimentary tshirt from the etobicoke corporate challenge memorial ball tournament (circa 1987).

i see you there, flipping your straw yellow mowhawk with youthful arrogance and know you sense the connection between us. sure you've been drinking stella sort of constantly since you hit the stage, and, in actual fact, had to play several songs lying on your back with your bass cradled against your belly because you were weaving too dramatically to keep up with the rest of the rhythm section. sure your proclivity for absent-mindedly spitting on the guy standing directly in front of is a little off-putting. sure you quit school to go on the road at 16 and haven't looked back, counting on your older, wiser lead vocalist mentor to come up with the deep and brooding lyrics that make the chicks wild. i'm ok with all of that. i'm really ok.

you can tell that i'm not like the other girls. i decided to leave my cardigan at home, tonight, and opted for a plain tshirt that doesn't advertise a band - yours or any other. i don't buy into the usual hipster scene, and i can tell that you yearn to be free of it as well.

together we'll make our own scene. we'll rent a studio loft-esque basement suite just off main street and cruise the thrift shops looking for vintage vinyl and eclectic furnishings. we'll host festive social gatherings at which the cream of the cutting edge urban underground music scene gather to inspire us and each other. we'll get a dog which we'll take with us everywhere, and eventually have a baby to clothe in ironicaly captioned tshirts which proclaim our coolness as parents. eventually, you'll quit the band and go on to manage a record store, or a used book store, or maybe even a coffee shop. you won't mind that i make 20 or 30 thousand a year more than you do, and neither do i 'cause really, really, our love for each other is what it's all about.

so, mr. indie band bass player, when you leave the stage tonight and wander through the crowd checking out the girls in their cardigans and weezer tshirts, look back - back here by the sound booth. i'll be waiting.

love, raspberry sundae.

mardi, mai 17

i forgot what i was supposed to say

sometimes my head gets the better of me and i get all swirly inside and i can't rescue the reason from the emotion and your words (or lack thereof) hit me like pin pricks of razor wire deep across my midriff.

i just look at you blankly and try to detach disconnect free myself from the hazy sweeping in from the marshland of memory and dream. i forget who i am, just for a minute. forget that i'm above all this and you can't reach me here. you can probably see the shutters in my eyes closing like a steel apron drawn down on a shop window at the end of the trading day, but do you realize that they are all for you?

vendredi, mai 13

holy grail

for me, the holy grail of summer wear is not the bikini. pish posh i say to the bikini. i have one of those. besides - you can buy them in two pieces, so the fact that i have hips built for a boy but boobs built for two can be accomodated.

no, each summer i go on a quest for the perfect white t-shirt. you know the one - soft and worn like the one you used to steal from your boyfriends drawer.. it cupped your breasts with mermaid fingers and slid across your belly, but never clung no never clung. it's the kind of tshirt that men pray to catch you washing the car in - thin like cirrus clouds dancing in the summer sky. i didn't find one at all last year - i usually start about this time of year and then search frantically for a while and eventually give up. if i haven't found one by mid-july when the fall clothes hit the shelves i forlornly hang up my flip flops. i always figured that if i did find one, i'd buy about four so that i could have a summer of respite for the next year or so.

i started this year's search kind of abstractly last weekend - i sort of ruffled the merchandise at a few locations, not really intending to buy (good thing 'cause i didn't see much). i began my quest in earnest on wednesday. i think that, since then, i've tried on probably 15 different white tshirts.

then, today, i found it. the perfect white tshirt. it's not too long, not too short. it is made out of the thinnest, softest cotton i've felt in, well, forever. it is scooped low to show off the collarbones, and hugs my girls like a lover.

so what's the downside, raspb'y? well dammit, this thing costs $60. that's right, SIXTY dollars. for a white tshirt. huh. the shitty thing is that, unless i can find one today or tomorrow, i'm going back to buy it sunday. somebody help me.

jeudi, mai 12

the chad



so over at padlock's house he's playing an "imitate all the folks in the blogroll" game. i'm curious to see if the chad will attempt a 'raspberry whining about men', a 'raspberry got laid', a 'lit-geek raspberry' or a 'proud mama' raspberry. personally i'm rootin' for the 'raspberry got laid'. i'm dying to see his interpretation....

*blush*

"the cool thing about you is that you are a total geek... but you are so fucking *HOT*!"

mardi, mai 10

rob gordon

i'm sitting here wearing a hoody that belongs to a guy i used to fuck, making mixed cds to listen to this summer when i drive too fast down the highway, weaving in and out of sunshowers and big rigs, sipping mountain dew slurpees and eating corn dogs.

i'm sitting here wearing a hoody that used to belong to a guy i fuck, listening to dave grohl pound the drums and wondering if anything could ever feel this real forever - if anything could ever be this good again.

i'm sitting here wearing a hoody wishing i were running running running in the rain, feet slapping hard pavement, mud splashing up my ankles, headphones pounding in my ears, listening to mixed cds i made while thinking about a guy who fucked me and drove too fast down the highway, weaving in and out of rainstorms and sunshine, eating corn dogs and sipping mountain dew slurpees.

dimanche, mai 8

mom's day

happy mom's day, everybody...

normally i bypass the cheezy comic strips and go straight to garfield, but today something enticed me to linger at 'cathy'. the little one-liner at the end sort of caught my eye: "a good mom trys to make sure her kids get home safe. a *great* mom trys to make sure that *everyone's* kids get home safe". i'll buy that.

family's a funny thing, huh? yesterday was the 3rd anniversary of the death of one of my second cousin's - one who i think that i met maybe once, if that. my dad was pretty close to him growing up, 'cause they were the same age. so i ventured off with my dad to get together with a branch of my family that i see maybe once every three years. they live so close to me, so close to me, but we have such little contact with them. and this is not normal in irish families - usually we're a close knit bunch. loyalty to your family is first and foremost. all i can think is that it has something to do with the fact that my dad's family was always fairly moderate, politically, while his cousin's family was a lot more... emphatic.

regardless - seeing the aunties and cousins and it feels like three days have passed, not three years. it's just this giant boiling vat of family and laughter and caring and petty arguments and grumbling and you just seem to slide into your place without missing a beat.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

in other news.. i've spent two nights in a row with The New Boy. am i still freaking out? hella yes. i have no idea with i'm doing. seriously. i'm so afraid that i'm going to start *really* liking this one (this is where we throw down the bullshit flag and point out that i ALREADY really like this one) and he's going to disappear like all the rest. he's not an asshole, but he's not (historically) been known for his ... how shall i put it ... constancy. the other night we were out and he said to me that under normal circumstances, he'd be out "whoring around" (his words, not mine). but he's not, and he's happy that he's not. bit of a double edged blade, i figure - he's reminding me of his tendency to be a bit of a manslut, but telling me that he's happy just being with me. erp.

but anyway... i'm just doing the wait and see thing. he's gone away for work for 10 days - i guess we'll see what happens after that, huh?

samedi, mai 7

googlism

googlism is the brainchild of the oddchild

raspberry is glowing and beautiful and bright
raspberry is a real sweetie
raspberry is a bundle of little drupelets
raspberry is so popular
raspberry is a good uterine toner
raspberry is important in bc and world
raspberry is a laugh out loud comedy that takes place on a ship
raspberry is my favorite kind of tea
raspberry is one
raspberry is a pulitzer prize
raspberry is very seedy and is best juiced by pressing through a cloth to filter out the seeds
raspberry is one of the most widely used herbs for women
raspberry is the one who needs to get a grip
raspberry is largely grown for its fruit and grows wild in some parts of great britain
raspberry is selling like hotcakes
raspberry is said to be good for common female problems
raspberry is very susceptible
raspberry is joined by her attendants and other contestants
raspberry is among but a handful of journalists
raspberry is a reduced dairy alternative
raspberry is usually not a sufficient treatment for diarrhoea
raspberry is most popular in ohio
raspberry is red
raspberry is believed to be native to europe
raspberry is the knight professor of the practice of communications and journalism

jeudi, mai 5

sidebar

i noticed on the sidebar there that i had a couple of hits from someone looking for the search term 'body sundae'.

now there's a mental picture to get you through a monday, huh? (yes i know that today is thursday. i'm going to nurture and cherish that image from now till monday, and possibly in perpetuity.)

anyhoo - what exactly would comprise *your* body sunday? like would it be made up of three (or four, even) layers of bodies in varying colours, chosen to simulate ice creamy goodness? or would you simply apply sweet condiment goodness to your partner and eat your way to the bottom of the bowl? i'd like a combination of the two, please - i mean, for purely artistic sake. there are ice-creamy colours that can't possibly be replicated just through skin tones. plus - i really like chocolate.

so, my body sundae would be a boy layer, a girl layer, some whipping cream, fresh raspberries (natch), and a whole lot of chocolate sauce...

(mind you, if you (being the body sundae search and rescue crew) were looking for a *bawdy* sundae, you've found her. just check back a few posts - i think you'll be entertained.)

lundi, mai 2

weekend update

less witty than dennis miller, but moreso than jimmy fallon...

ok kids the quick and dirty:

thursday was U2. essentially, it's like going to see an andrew lloyd webber musical starring the members of U2 featuring the music of U2. i was trying to figure out which i enjoyed more - this night or velvet revolver and realized that i couldn't compare. going to see velvet revolver was going to a rock concert. going to see U2 was going to experience what an unlimited live performance budget can buy you. did i enjoy it? of *course* i did - how could you not? the crowed behaved exactly the way they were supposed to. we sang along, we clapped on cue, and the band gave up wonderful performances. but it wasn't very ... real.

now contrast this to friday night - the constantines and the weakerthans at dicks. old fashioned indie rock at its best. i'm not so much a fan of the weakerthans, but man oh man i heart the constantines. what is it about indie band bass players that makes my heart go pit-a-pat? dallas, if you are reading this, i love you. i love your floppy straw blonde mohawk. i love the way that you were so loaded you lay down with your bass on your belly and played that way for the length of an entire song. i love your tight acid wash denim vest, zipped up to your chin. i heart you, dallas. call me...

saturday i did some consignment store shopping, cooked dinner for the kiddo and The New Boy, and went to see Kung Fu Hustle... sunday the kiddo and i went downtown for greasy burgers (him beefy-greasy me turkey-greasy), did some more shopping, then i napped on the deck for the afternoon.... a lovely evening, all in all....

not very inspired, i know.. but really it was more fun than i've made it out to be.

jeudi, avril 28

rock n roll highschool

tonight - U2. tomorrow, the weakerthans with the constantines. how cool am i?

apparently not that cool... the kiddo, who i really wanted to take with me, said to me last night "i just don't think i'd have that much fun sitting there with my MOM.."

you could hear a pin drop a mile down the road, then the gentle sound of my heart breaking.

fortunately mike b generously volunteered to accompany me this evening. such a trooper he is - forced to see U2 two nites in a row. the generosity of his spirit brings a tear to my eye....

anyhoo i'm off to the show. i'll let you know how it stacks up in the ol' rock'n'roll spectacle department when compared to velvet revolver...

lundi, avril 25

are your underwear vibrating...

or are you just glad to see me?

so this morning i had to do two things which filled me with dread and caused me to sleep very very little last night. so, really, it's a good thing that was i passed out by 9.30 from sheer boredom the night previous.

item the first - i had to go have a meeting at the kiddo's school with the drunk, (oh, sorry, did i say that out loud?) i mean, the kiddo's vice principal, his teacher (not the aide with whom he does not get along) and his counsellor. the kiddo's presence was required, but the vp decided that he needed to speak with me and the counsellor first, and so made the kiddo sit in the office for 45 minutes waiting. seriously - the man has no respect. this is also the guy who didn't bother to learn my name before our last meeting. i'm pretty sure he still has not a clue, and did on two separate occasions refer to the counsellor as the kiddo's dad. drunk. i mean, a bleedin' fascist. i mean, an alzheimer ridden lunatic. i mean, a worthy vice principal who nobly represents all that is good with our public school system. so that was a barrel of monkeys, let me tell you... at the end of this 45minute joyous start to my day, the vp says "now i would like to talk to the kiddo alone". i made frantic NO WAY is this a good idea motions to the counsellor, who stepped up and said that he'd prefer to be in the room. the kiddo WAS NOT pleased at having to get up early to sit on his butt chatting with the school secretary. lovely lady, i'm sure, but come on now - this is a 15 year old kid.

item the second - i had a meeting with mr. m today, because i am going to start taking classes in the area which is his specialty. so i had to suck up my pride and ask him to a)give me advice and b)resume his place as my quasi-workplace mentor. man was THAT the hardest thing i've done this week. i don't think i stopped shaking till 10minutes after i left his office...

anyway.. i started this whole diatribe with vibrating underwear, which is much more fun. see - i am missing one of the detachable straps for my ivory bra, and so today had to employ those clear plastic type. they're currently cutting off the circulation to my entire body (north of the shoulders) so i went dumped out my undies drawer to see if i could find it. of course, being A.D.D i immediately lost interest in the project when something flashy appeared on my computer screen (W49 logged in and started chatting at me). in the back of my mind i could hear this strange vibraty noise, looked over my shoulder and realized that it was coming from a particularly lovely pair of pink lace shorties. of course i had managed to completely cover my mobile with women's undergarments and so had to embark upon a frantic dig to answer before it went to voicemail. succeeded, mind, and answered with quite a chuckle...

so anyway, it was a rough day. but The New Boy is coming over after he goes for a ride and we are going to go hang out on the beach and watch the tide, i think, so things are looking up....

samedi, avril 23

somnambulate

in the dark (eyes closed) shh don't speak
there can be only touching -
two bodies meeting throwing
off the blankets (or not). don't
wake up - these moments are about
half dreamt needs and
the eroticism of moonbeams.

jeudi, avril 21

5 minutes

**edit - i'm going back in to fix some grammar...

so the idea is to write for five minutes. five minutes without pause, without interuption, without censorship. ahh... censorship - now there's the rub. how does one allow one's head to simply ... flow... simply write what i'm thinking and not worry about who will read or what people will think? am i entertaining you? please, let me entertain you.

welcome to my brain - this roughshod flurry of words and thoughts pouring forth from my fingertips is the way i run, most of the time... slow down, raspby, people say as my tongue runs away from me trying to keep up with the flash flash of neural impulse at work in my head. slow down, raspby, people say as i rush headlong from one passion to the next, just a half a breath behind my heart.

maybe it's good things are going slowly, she said to me. *some* people i know tend to rush into things. who's to say what's rushing, is my retort. in hummingbird moments i'm moving at glacial speeds. (oops cheated there - went back and replaced 'cat' with 'hummingbird' 'cause 'hummingbird' has never been used in these pages before')

ever see a bird try and escape from a room? it throws its chest against the glass again and again. the sight of freedom, just within reach, is enough to inspire it to beat itself to death - beat itself with the very thing that confines it. my question to you is- is it really trying to get free? or to destroy that which stops its flight?

(time, gentlemen)

lundi, avril 18

not like it matters...

but if my seriously lapsed catholic vote counts for anything i want him, him or him to win.

flow

sunshine through the window, thinkening about you. talking 'bout no ties and own time but still my heart casts back towards you off there somewhere. why is it that you disappear like this?

bodies slapping broken beats. 'was she with you till the end?' no but yes and i can't tell you that right now. staring out the windown wishing i could do more.

'you are the best, most down to earth person i've ever met. there's no reason why we shouldn't always be friends'.

funny how i still feel so lonely.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i ran across the road - your hand gripped mine tugging me faster and faster. "i can't wait till we get home.. i need you now". quick hands at the waist, help me up over the fence. "we should climb the side of the building - then i can be inside you while we look out over the lights" can't do it- wearing heels and the rain pours pours down. drops dripping off my skin i stick my tongue out and lick them off your lips. sweet and sour like beer and dancing. pull my shirt up, breasts free from black bra.. rain kisses my nipples - they're hard so cold so hard. your lips and mouth on them are hot the contrast almost pushes me over the edge... strobe light headlights flash over us bringing everything into stark realism. drink in my head makes everything so clear but so far away. drink in your smell makes everything so unclear but so close. you fumble with my pants, open the belt the zipper pull them down rip rip rip the underwear off me and throw it aside. rain all over me now, your lips chase the streams of water down my belly lower lower hands on my ass pulling me closer. you are back up your tongue in me your cock in me your fingers in me rain nothing but the rain between us. nothing but the rain and a year of misunderstanding and forgotten birthdays and forgotten phone calls and.. and .. and...

mercredi, avril 13

i wonder

i was reading over at matt good's space and pondering his ponderings over youth violence. he's been discussing this sort of on and off since last friday or so, when he was the victim of some random violence himself - that is, someone threw a wrench at his head while he was on stage.

it comes at a fairly timely moment - kelly ellard was just convicted of the murder of reena virk yesterday. for those of you unaware of the story, 22yr old kelly ellard was charged with participating in the beating and murder of (then)14 year old reena virk. it's taken eight years to come to a verdict on this case, and there was only one other person prosecuted for the murder.

that aside, matt good has posted a link to a fairly graphic video on his site - i guess the fun new trend in highschools (less cool than, say, ipods but moreso than tongue rings) is to have random spectator beatings which are filmed with a digital camera or mobile phone and uploaded to the internet.

he comes down fairly hard on the parents of the kids who participate in such activities. while i support a lot of what he's saying, i also would maybe, just maybe, put up a hand in caution.

first of all, teen violence is not a new thing. when i was thirteen years old, a girl a good foot taller than i decided to waylay me on my route home from school, hold me at arms length, and pound the crap out of my face because the guy she had a crush on preferred me. the word had gotten out ahead of time, so there was a crowd of probably 200 people there to witness the fun. the only reason she stopped is 'cause one of my (male, by the way) friends jumped on her back and pulled her off me. she was the daughter of a cop. this would be all the more horrifying if it were a random event, but nope -happened at least once a week, in my school.

second of all, it's way to easy to blame parents and say that people see raising children as an inconvenience. i think that's too simplistic. we live in a society which essentially demands a two income household. only the upper middle class can really afford to have one parent stay at home and, well, parent. and it's not a matter of having luxuries and two cars and a cell in every pocket - it's that to rent a two bedroom apartment in most parts of vancouver you will have to spend between $1500 and $2000 per month. forget mortgages - for a family home the dollars and cents are over 300K. who can afford that on 45-500000 per year? parent's just can't always be there. you try and teach your kids to make good decisions and be caring citizens, but, ultimately, you can't always be there.

i think that you can't separate 'parents' from society at large. we have become completely disconnected from our sense of responsibility to our community as a whole. it's very trendy to be worried about green space in our neighbourhoods, or to make sure you take cloth bags to the grocery, and to recycle and that stuff, but what the hell does that matter if we have lost sight of the importance of teaching our children that we are all intertwined? is spending time bringing attention to amnesty international more important than mentoring kids in a local highschool, or maybe volunteering to give music lessons at a local boys and girls club, or just taking the time to talk to the boy in the next apartment who's single mom maybe has to work two jobs just to keep food on the table?

we are so isolated, now. we live in suburbs where we only sleep. we drive everywhere. we don't speak with our neighbours or the folks beside us in line or the grocer or the newsagent or anyone else. heck - in my office it's more common to phone or use the instant messanger to talk to your coworkers than it is to go over to their desk and say hello. we don't see ourselves as part of a greater thing.

so ya, everyday youth violence is, in part, the fault of the parents. but, in a larger sense, it's my fault and your fault and his fault and her fault.

so here's my challenge to you, matt good - you are extremely well spoken and extremely influential and well respected. i challenge you, matt good, to maybe, just maybe, try and bring as much attention to local programs that try and teach kids to be active, caring members of our communities as you do to darfur, and amnesty international and all those other worthy charities. 'cause sure, here in canada we are pampered and live soft lives and don't have bombs raining down on our heads every day. but that doesn't mean the kids who live here deserve respect and love and mentoring and education any less than iraqui children or sudanese children or american children or anyone's children.

lundi, avril 11

cold feet

that is to say, my toes are cold... i just painted my nails silvery pink and so don't want to put my socks back on yet.

random confession #14:

i wear socks to bed with a fair amount of regularity. they usually stay on from the time i climb in till about 1/3 of the way through the night, at which point they get too warm and i kick them off. i just leave them in the bed, so at any given time there's at least one pair of socks under the blankets. i figure why move them, since i'm just gonna put 'em back on again when i get back into bed with cold feet?

how's that for a metaphor?

dimanche, avril 10

things i have learned this weekend

1) i can*NOT* do stupid things like eat a piece of pizza at three am anymore. i used to be able to do it, just once in a while, you know? not anymore. spent the first 3 hours i was awake yesterday puking. not fun.

2) orangina is, indeed, the liquid of the gods. think of it - lightly carbonated to help the belly, slightly sweet to get my sugar levels back up, brightly vitamin-c'd to help with recovery. gorgeous.

3) what i'm really looking for is one man who combines the qualities currently being brought to my life by The New Boy and r-. The New Boy = stable, considerate, caring, older than me, reads, mature, stuff like that. r- = fun, dirty, laughs like crazy, gets more out of music than even i do, parties his ass off, stuff like that. both = tough boys, scrappy, short, strong, work out, irreverant, like sex. do you think there exists a guy who has ALL of these qualities? could i be so lucky?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

seriously, though. i'm 32-almost-33 years old. should i be looking for the more-stable laid back boy? what am i doing hanging out with a 26 year old kid who just wants to spin records and fuck and party? i'm just not ready to give that stuff up yet, you know? that's something i learned with mr.m. i am not ready to stay home every weekend and do "family" stuff and garden and run errands all weekend. i need to find someone who is both things - cause there are definately moments (like saturday night) when i want to curl up on the couch and watch videos and eat chips and fall asleep and wake up to someone carrying me to bed and tucking me in.

but on friday night.. friday night i hit the ground running as soon as i got off work and didn't slow down till 6am saturday morning. at one point on friday night when we were still at the club r- looked at me and said "you know, no matter how far i push you, you turn around and look at me and ask me to go farther... how far are you going to let me go?" and i gave him the only true answer, which was "farther than you ever dreamed you could", then made him chase me as i whirled and spun across the dance floor. friday night was about electricity and attraction and loud music and lights and boys and vodka and knowing, KNOWING that he was blowing off other plans not 'cause he wanted to go dancing where we were going but 'cause he wanted to fuck the HELL out of me at the end of the night. (i'm not painting him in a very positive light right now... i'm making it sound like there isn't very real affection between us, and like we don't genuinely enjoy each other's company, which isn't true at all.)

so how do i find a boy who is both? do you know one? are you one? does such a boy exist? what qualities does your ideal mate possess? are you holding out till you can find them? or have you given up on your dream and are settling for someone you aren't entirely happy with, or settling for solitude and friends and work?

jeudi, avril 7

shit that worries me

- why is speak spelled s-p-e-a-k, but speech s-p-e-e-c-h?

mercredi, avril 6

*hem hem*

ok so i'm sitting here eating an entirely passable sauce that i put together with tuna, olives, artichokes, white wine, tomatoes, red peppers, zucchini, and fresh basil poured over rice. my sauce to rice ratio is easily 2:1. yum-o-rama. didn't feel like going out to eat, despite my 11.5hour long day, so made sauce. good call, i figure.

question for you... how long should you keep a link up on your site after somebody stops updating (ahem mike b)? like seriously - one month? two months? what is acceptable? i mean, he's my wing man and all... but at what point can i remove the non-updated link without being rude? thoughts? rebuttals? it's kind of like other eternal dilemma - how long do you keep a greeting card after the event for which it was given. when your 31st birthday rolls around, is it now culturally acceptable to dispose of the cards received for all others between the ages of 1 and 30? do you toss the card as soon as the giver has turned their back? or do you just slowly compile a drawerful, only to be disposed of when you move or run out of space for tea towels?

mardi, avril 5

see, i TOLD you!

todae's horoscope:

The lights are low, the music is just right and the person you're with is the person you've been waiting for all your life. But if there's even one iota of doubt in your mind, don't make plans for that Elvis chapel in Vegas. Why risk making a mistake that serious when all you have to do is wait until Mercury isn't retrograde? Never mind what that means. Just wait until after the 12th. You'll be glad you did.

samedi, avril 2

rock & fuckin' roll

Recently I have been having a conversation with different people regarding the upcoming U2 concerts here in Vancouver. To me, it's kind of important I take my kid to see them, because it may the last chance he has to see a 'supergroup', 'cause I wonder if such a thing exists anymore. I've been thinking to myself that there are currently no other bands which have the possibility to engage people on such a diverse and generational scale as U2 does. They may be the very last of music's power icons.* Everybody has a different opinion on why - the record companies aren't invested in nurturing artists anymore; the internet has given us such immense access to differnt groups and artists that rarely does one inspire loyalty in it's listeners anymore; the list goes on** - but it seems like few people have considered the underlying implications or meaning of this phenomenon.

This was brought to the forefront of my mind again on Thursday, when I went to see Velvet Revolver at the Pacific Coliseum. The whole evening was set out as a "back to basics rock & roll show" - this is even how Slash described it in a pre-show radio interview. Scott Weiland's stage presence channels the icons of rock: his slinky garb and the amorphous sexuality oozes late seventies Bowie. His back and forth rooster strut invokes Mick Jagger in his heyday. Digesting Weiland's on-stage persona, in concert with noticing the black leather tophat perched upon an amp and watching Slash and Duff close the show by walking off the stage arm in arm, you realize you are watching an encapsulation of rock and roll history. This concert embodies the rock & roll experience; the rock & roll tradition.

Anthony Giddens, director of the London School of Economics, outlined several key elements which define a tradition:
First, it involves some form of ceremonial ritual or ritualistic behavior. Second, tradition involves a group of people; it's collective and social in nature. Third, traditions have guardians such as historians that have access to the knowledge or the truth of tradition's sacred rituals. Fourth, tradition stirs emotion within individuals to bring about a greater sense of self-awareness. In some cultures, these rituals are important to one's self-identity within the context of a larger society. (excerpted from metro news.

What is a rock concert but a tradition; a mass gathering which the participants adhere to rules and patterns without any formal training in such a milieu. You don't take lessons on how to behave when you go to see a concert, you just know how to behave. Everyone knows that when the band leaves the stage but the lights don't come up, you are supposed to clap and stomp and cheer and call them back. This is your opportunity to pay your respects to the spectacle. When a soft song is played, the lighters are held in the air. When the band turns the mike to the crowd, everyone sings. The call and response of the spectacle call to the collective conciousness of the crowd.

In the 1950's, Guy DeBord and the Situationists proposed a cultural revolution which reunitied art and everyday life. They felt that the alienation of everyday man from the deeper meanings of everyday life and the creative output had marginalized all relationships - captialism rendered life 'transactional' and reduced it to a 'spectacle'. That is, the superficiality of the creative endeavour masks the disatisfaction of a life separated from creativity and art.

Halfway through the concert, Scott Weiland took the opportunity to speak to the crowd about the state of modern music. He addressed his audience in an attempt to have us understand what the record companies have done to the artist. He differentiated between bands like Velvet Revolver and much of what is considered "pop" music*** by saying that the record companies have created an industry in which they support the flash-in-pan "pop" stars because they require a minimum investment. backing an artist with longevity is not in the financial plan - it's easier to generate carbon copies and spoon feed them formulaic paint-by-numbers pre-packaged performances then it is to support and nurture the development of an actual "artist". "So what do bands like Velvet Revolver do?" Weiland asked the crowd.. "We take our show on the road. What do the record companies call you people?" he called out. "They call you consumers. What do we call you? Mother-fucking rock and roll fans!". The crowd, of course, responded as it was intended to do.

What Weiland seemed to be implying is that Velvet Revolver is re-developing the relationship between the artist and the art and the crowd. When he stood on the stage and raised and lowered his arms like a space age messiah, he played the crowd like an instrument. The crowd's voices and reactions rose and fell with his gestures, turning the voices of the audience into another instrument - into part of the band. While the record companies seduce the masses as consumers (reduce them from being into merely having), Velvet Revolver is breaking down the division between the masses by involving them in the production of the entertainment itself - the spectacle becomes not the superficial stageshow of the Britney Spears' of the music world, but an interactive experience with its basis in the deepest cultural traditions of rock & roll.

These traditions remind us (the audience) of our sense of self and integral role in the show. The division between work and play is diminished and the individuals in the crowd become active participants in constructing their own experience. Moreover, who is cast in the role of performer and who is cast in the role of crowd is no longer clear. Guy DeBord and the Situationists "insisted that every individual should actively and consciously participate in the reconstruction of every moment of life. They called themselves Situationists precisely because they believed that all individuals should construct the situations of their lives and release their own potential and obtain their own pleasure." (http://catless.ncl.ac.uk/Obituary/debord.html) Velvet Revolver is enacting, through their performance, the cultural revolution which the Situationists deemed necessary for freedom from a consumerist society.

Of course, this argument is problematic in that it cost up to $65 to attend this 'cultural revolution' and, beyond that, Velvet Revolver is in the business of selling records and t-shirts and concert tickets and g-string underwear. However, it seemed, to me, interesting that in a time where we are so missing the presence of a band to fill the shoes of U2, a supergroup to inspire us to a rock & roll lifestyle in which art is NOT separated from culture, Scott Weiland stood on stage and reminded us that the rock & roll lifestyle is the embodiement of a world in which the art *is* the lifestyle.

long live rock & fuckin' roll.





* and in saying this i don't mean a power group in the sense of a group that's currently really popular and makes a lot of money. i mean a group that appeals to a broad spectrum of people - diverse ages, backgrounds, and musical tastes; one that has longevity or the potential for longevity; one that has the power (for lack of a better world) to take control of their creative process out of the hands of the record company; and, obviously, one that makes vast sales.

** everyone also has ideas on who (if any) has the potential to be a 'supergroup' - pearl jam, radiohead. would it even *be* a 'rock' band? or maybe eminem stands more chance?

*** when the crowd reacted negatively to the term "pop" music, Weiland reminded us that thirty-five years ago the Beatles exploded onto the music scene - and that they would be considered "pop" music but are so far away from anything that could be compared to the current representations of the term that it is unfathomable.

vendredi, avril 1

quick and dirty

i promise i'll write some more tomorrow. i have some stuff i want to say about the velvet revolver concert last night. i even wrote (gasp!) some of it down so i wouldn't forget.

but for now i just wanna say that i went to see sin city with the kiddo tonight. it's amazing in that it's visually overwhelming - the colours and filming are wonderful; the directing superlative; the acting top shelf; the directing superb. but sweet holy mother of god it's violent. yes it's cartoon violence but i was a little rattled. the kiddo announced it "fucking awesome". i enjoyed it and appreciate it for what it is, but man o man. shocking.

i love the way that there are little visual anchors that tie the vignettes together. i love the way that the stories and characters all sort of get tied together in the end - not in the way that things are neatly packaged with a polite little bow, but in the way that you sort of get the sense that these are people who live in within a self-contained world and who would bump into each other on the street.

but fuck it's violent, kids. not for the weak of constitution.