walkin on sunshine

can i get an amen for two days of sunshine and glory here in raincouver? like twelve degrees amen. like i had the sunroof open amen. like i went out and celebrated with a new pair of sunglasses amen.

amen and hallelujah cause sweet mother of god i'm pretty sure i was growing webbed feet.

tonight will be another evening in with a bottle of wine, 'cause i'm attempting to make german chocolate cake for the sister's birthday dinner tomorrow. i think that i should try and avoid drinking TOO much wine until the cake has been made. fortunately, cake assembly will take place tomorrow 'cause the last time i baked a birthday cake i attempted this dense chocolate cake covered in ganache which (by all reports) was delicious but oh man it was seriously the ugliest cake i've ever seen in my life. i was embarassed to serve it.

seriously.

so there will be no alcohol consumed before cake assembly this time, as a precaution. i might go upstairs and make some cookies right now though, so we have warm chocolate chippers for dinner. mmmm.

you want tah-tahs?

tonight i feel like staying at home in bed talking to you, drinking wine, and watching hockey. is that ok? oh man i've screwed up the image upload 2x and i've only had two glasses of wine. this bodes poorly for the quality of this post. i apologize in advance. that's morning me, by the way, in case you wanted to know in advance what i look like when i first get up. there is no colour until i've had coffee. usually i'm wearing jammies, but i was having crazy dreams last night and when i woke up my shirt was on the other side of the room.

they weren't dirty dreams, either - they were more conflict dreams. for some reason i was the only person who knew how to get a hold of tnb's best friend, and tnb had to come to see me to get his phone number but i wouldn't give it to him 'cause i was pissed still at him for disappearing off the face of the earth. so he was mad at me and i was mad at him and all i could say to him was "i don't want to be the girl you call every ten years when you are leaving a fucked up relationship. i'm not here to fuck your issues away." my dream-self sure did do a good job of sticking up for me.

now if only she'd wake up someday and do it for real.

and yes i do almost always sleep with the world's oldest laptop (pictured above(usually not open, though, unless i fall asleep chatting with someone. (which has happened.))). that, a remote control, my crackberry, and my cellphone. no men, sadly, though the carboy did come crawl into bed with me to watch tv the other night while he waited to go pick his brother up at hockey. the other side of my bed is generally considered auxiliary closet space.

the carboy is an interesting person to spend time with. he's five years younger than me and earns five times more. he's super nice, is a good kisser, has the softest skin ever, but is never around. it's 'cause he works like he's forty, he says, but it's what he has to do if he wants to retire at 35. he's also gone to florida for a weekend but is supposed to come back and take me out for dinner on monday. would you believe that we've gone for drinks a billion times. we've driven aimlessly through rainstruck nights talking and listening to the radio. he's seen me naked twice. we've never gone out for dinner or done anything remotely 'normal'. funny, huh?

i'm trying to think of 'when i was young' stories for nk, but i'm having trouble with it for some reason. it's not that i don't *have* stories, it's that it is somehow difficult to siphon it into a coherent narrative. maybe once i have some more wine.

time goes by so slowly

i feel like i should be publishing something controversial, or flagrantly dirty, or ... something, but i got nuttin.

i've been crazy busy at work the last couple of days - that might be why. i feel really drained by the time i get home. it's kind of a good tired, though. not the lethargic exhausted that i have been for the past while.

help. give me some ideers. whatcha want to know about hear about talk about.
i feel like some interaction.

(wordcloud via roonie)

sing lazarus

last night i was listening to leonard cohen talk on the cbc while i baked cookies.

i forget, you know, i forget the power of words - how they can take me outside myself and lull me into a rapid transit thought process that hurries and flows in and out of ideas with quicksilver rapidity.

it used to be my life's goal to work with words... to play with theories and metaphors... to take an idea and give it life on the page or with my voice... to weave together syllables... to provoke with consonants and vowels.

i seem to have lost sight of that.

my job is challenging and i enjoy it. my work involves eddying people and information to and fro and attempting to garner coherence from both.

just a side step away from where i thought i'd be, really.

but it is a big side step.

posted beside my computer is a quote from one of my favourite theorists, stephen greenblatt:

For history is not simply discovered in the precincts surrounding the literary text, or the performance or the image; it is found in the artworks themselves, as enabling condition, shaping force, forger of meaning, censor, community of patronage and reception. And the work of art is not the passive surface on which this historical experience leaves its stamp, but one of the creative agents in the fashioning and re-fashioning of the experience".

i have been a passive surface. i want to once again fashion and refashion my experience - be a wave of turbulence rolling through my world.

my brother's thesis supervisor is my former thesis supervisor. my brother told me that this professor talks about me in class - as the one who got away, the one who was published before finishing her B.A., the one who... the one who. somedays i wake up and second guess my decision to leave school, though really it wasn't a decision it was an imperative. somedays i wake up and love where i am and what i'm doing so much that i don't doubt it for a second.

these words, though, are my soul. these words, though, live inside of me and burn with a fire that i cannot contain. these words, though, seek freedom and solace on the page, in the air, on the screen. these words, though, need to be set free.

last night leonard cohen said that the greatest thing we can do is forgive ourselves our imperfections because, after all, what are we but imperfections. i can forgive myself, if you can forgive me for sharing them with you.

caffiene free faux punk fatigues

it's wierd - monday is simultaneously my least favourite and most favourite day of the week: least favourite 'cause, well, it's monday, and most favourite 'cause i have my yoga class and i come home all relaxed and calm with a smile in my heart and eat something by myself and look at the paper and then maybe have a bath and a glass of wine and crawl into bed.

which is where i am now.

at 8.47 pm.

but seriously, i'm so relaxed right now i feel the need to prop my eyes open with toothpicks. and that's a good thing.

today i added wellbutrin to my celexa in order to counteract the worst possible side effects (except weight gain (borderline eating disorder)) that any drug could have for me. the research i've read is promising, but the fact that wellbutrin itself is a fairly well thought-of antidepressant leads me to ponder this: why wellbutrin *and* celexa? why not just wellbutrin? of course this did not occur to me the other day when i was at the doctor's office. i shall ask the next time i go in, however. oh yes i will.

i did spend a chunk of the day feeling like i used to when i'd take half an e before heading out to run errands - sort of vibraty and with a manic kind of swing to my step, wondering if everyone could tell that i was just a little bit high. settle down, this was years ago. and yes, i did have a bit of a problem. that's why i went cold turkey for years.

as an aside, one of the studies i read while poking about the internet spoke of one woman who experienced a spontaneous orgasm which lasted, off and on, for about two hours after beginning to take wellbutrin. now *that's* a side effect i could really sink my teeth into.

anyway, i'm tired of fighting the sandman. i'm going to just let him in, now.

g'nite xoxo

*yawn*

the spectre of janet jackson's tit still looms over the superbowl. for the second year in a row we are subjected to outdated vanilla boomerpop for the halftime 'show'. i wonder who's on the bill for next year? burt bacharach?

not like the grey cup fares much better, mind you, but come on now. what's your demographic? is the audience really made up of my parents' generation, exclusively? if you are looking for an inoffensive cookie cutter rock band throw nickleback up there. get beyonce to shake what her mama made her. you KNOW jay-z ain't gonna let her get outta line.

it is interesting, though, to recall the fact that mick & co would NEVER have made it on that stage back when they were young and on top of their game. now that they're eligible for senior's discounts i guess the powers that be are fairly confident that jagger won't be wearing a see through white lace suit, as he may have in the late sixties.


thank god for small miracles.

too much blushy-blushy, not enough sucky-fucky

i went to see the matador last night with the sister. while this was not, by any means, the debaucherous fun of last weekend, it was fun nonetheless. in fact, i laughed my way through the film. pierce brosnan as a lecherous burned out assassin, for some reason, tickles my funny bone.

i also wrote a heart-felt post about love and loss and the way that people come into your life and then disappear, leaving behind them a small hole in your psyche which can probably never be filled by anyone else. but it was, somehow, lost in the grand blogger upgrade of yesterday. dammit.

our internet has been down all day. it's funny how disconnected i feel when i'm - well - disconnected. actually i feel sort of outside myself completely today. i feel kind of like i'm watching my body go through the motions of the day, without fully participating in them.

it's not the best feeling in the world, that's for sure. what're we going to do with me?

holy crap

i can't look at my own blog. it's forbidden.

what the fuck does THAT mean?

friday i'm in love

The sister, with a stern glance, has advised me to keep my tah-tahs in check. What inspired her to do this, you ask? Well ‘cause I theorized that if I got’em out more often, I may have better lovelifeluck. Say that six times fast. She figures if I cage them, on the other hand, I might actually meet men how aren’t interested exclusively in said tah-tahs.

However, they do have a mind of their own, and do not take well to being left out of romantic negotiations. Or any other negotiations, for that matter.

I’m very glad it’s Friday. It’s been a crazy week of catching up on work missed, taking the bus, and feeling bummed ‘cause tcb dropped off the face of the planet. Not to mention the fact that I get exHAUSTed at the slightest exertion (flu holdover) so walking the .5km from the bus stop to tenbucks (where I meet my ride) near to knocks me on my skinny little ass. So this evening, I believe, will be a quiet one at the pub watching hockey and maybe having a beer or two. I had thought of going to see Kaskade tomorrow but think I might skippit. My soul is weary, a little. Some days it ain’t easy being green, you know?

On the other hand, I could go over to Victoria for the night. Spending time with W49 is always a good thing. He’s fun and sweet and peaceful. Too bad he’s a) young and b) living in another city. I don’t, however, have to make that decision right now.

That’s right, Sundae. Procrastinate.

sweet mother of god

someone just found my site by googling "clit exploding".

(weeps silent tears of sympathetic pain)

i kill myself 'cause i'm so frustrated

so clearly the battery was *not* the issue with my car. must be the alternator. stink. this means that i am unsure of how i'm going to get myself and my vehicle home.

ahhh i'm not sure what i want to talk about today, but i know it's not my car. it's wednesday and they're the longest days of the week. haven't heard from tcb in a couple of days. my boss is back today so it will be really busy and i'm still tired and achy and wish i could sleep for a year.

i did, however, get to see the hot guy on supernatural makin' out last night which was a-ok in my book. rawr. plus, when i got home, i poked my head in the kiddo's room, said 'i got you a six-pack', then laughed at the change in his expression when i threw six pairs of new sox at him. seriously - it's the little things like that which make parenthood all worthwhile.

diamonds are a girls best friend

the dumb ox wrote:

An important point, don't yell at me. Raspberry or others, I never slept with anyone that I didn't believe I was going to marry. My hopes sometimes were totally delusional, and caused a lot of suffering for both parties.

And yes, I had some sex partners, not in actual coitus, who I didn't think there was much of a chance for a future together.

So the end of the story. Well who know?

In the meantime, I am married to the most fantastic, feisty, tough, beautiful, Italian babe in the world.

She was able to take care of me when I had cancer and bring our second son into the world. She's amazing, as I imagine you are, and will be for someone!

Don't worry, God loves you. As silly as that sounds.

Oh well, I wish my dad had told me things like this, and I offer it to you (all) for what it's worth.

so i noticed that no one commented back to him. and you may be thinking to yourselves that his opinion is so far away from the sundae philosophy of decadence and debauchery that i'm going to a)ignore it or b)blast away a rebuttal.

funny thing is that i agree with him.

to an extent.

see, my dad is a very old fashioned irish catholic gentleman. he's never sworn in front of my mother or my sister and i. you don't talk that way in front of ladies. he raised us to be good catholic girls who respected themselves and their parents, and he taught us that sex before marriage was something that good girls didn't do. unfortunately for my poor father, he was blessed (ahem) with an eldest daughter who had an unnaturally inquiring mind, a deep spirit of sensuality and a burning desire to experience all of life to its fullest.

and, for me, this includes sex.

my sister has often told me that she's almost jealous of the way that i am. i'm a sexual person - i've been told that you can sense it bubbling just below my surface. i love it. to me the way that two bodies come together is a path to transendence that i've only ever experienced in one other way - blasted out of my mind on e in the middle of a heaving dancefloor riding the beat of dark dark electronic music.

when i bake bread, i put my hands in the bowl. i need to feel the miracle of chemistry take place as the yeast melds with the sugar combines with the water joins with the flour to become a living breathing organism growing and rising to the touch of your skin, warming with the heat of your fingers.

when i am with a man, i need to feel him in me. i need to feel our bodies join together to become one living breathing organism rising to the touch of my skin, warming to the heat of my fingers. to me that is life - it is as integral as breath.

now, my new friend the ox may be scratching his head as he reads this, wondering how it is that i'm agreeing with him.

the thing is that i know this way of life isn't for everyone. i know that, for some people, not being sexually active until you find the person you are going to (hopefully) spend the rest of your life with is very important. and i respect that and even understand it.

i just know that it's not who i am.

up until five years ago i wasn't going to get married. i was never the girl who fantasized about the princess wedding and the frothy white gown. for as long as my parents can remember i swore up and down that i wasn't going to marry, wasn't going to have kids. i was going to go to school, get a career, live on my own. seriously - we're talking raspberry at 6 years old declaring to her mom's coffee friends that babies weren't the way.

then, while sitting at a cousin's wedding, surrounded by the aunties and uncles, i realized that maybe, just maybe, this was, in fact, something that was important to me. i don't have a biological clock. i won't be having more kids. period. but someday, maybe, i'd like to find a kindred spirit out there, somewhere - a man who is as deeply sensual as i am. a man who has a sense of humour that can bring me up out of my blackest moods. a man who wants to spend the rest of his life going on adventures with me. a man who believes that you should strive, every day of your life, to do something that you've never done before, even if it is something as minor as drive a new way home from work, or only use your left hand.

do i believe that man is out there? honestly, i don't know. but i'm not the kind of person who can give up having her own adventures, give up experiencing all of my senses to their fullest, while i wait for him to come along.

i believe that you are responsible to live your life each day in a way that is true to who you are. for some people that means waiting for marriage to fully celebrate the beauty that is a sexual relationship. for some people, like my friends in victoria, that is respecting their partner's right to have multiple sexual relationships within the sacred space of a "marriage". for some people, it's finding solace and peace and fire and heat and passion in the arms of a person who is sweet to them, who respects them, and who is seeking the same thing as they are - be it a few months, a few years, or a few hours.

should i someday get married, i hope that it will be forever. i believe in 'till death do you part'. i also think that sometimes people get married for the wrong reasons, or marry too young, or marry the wrong people, or just grow apart, so i don't know how reasonable that is.

i do know that my parents have weathered some unbelievably rough times together. my dad's illness over the last decade has worn on us all - but my mother most especially. but she has stuck by him, unfalteringly, unquestionably. and i'm that kind of woman as well.

so there, ox, is my answer to your comment. i agree with you - waiting to have 'coitus' until you were with someone you believed you would marry was exactly the right thing to do, for you.

but if i'd followed that path, i wouldn't have had the kiddo. and if i'd not had the kiddo, the chances of me living beyond my 21st birthday are slim to none. having the kiddo saved my relationship with my dad, and my dad's my hero. having the kiddo in my life has brought me joy in moments where i honestly never thought i'd see sunshine again.

so maybe, just maybe, i'm following the path that's exactly right, for me.

baby ain't it crazy just to want it

notes to self:
1) remember to wash your coffee cup before you leave work on friday afternoons. you never know when you will be off for a week unexpectedly. *shudders*.
2) after being off work with the worst flu you've ever had, it may not be the best idea to spend all day in the rain/playing in the snow and then stay up all night dancing.

how old am i? oh yes, double-three. you'd think i'd have these semi-basic things figured out by now.

i seriously did nothing yesterday, except drive the kiddo and four of his friends down to a cafe dahn-tahn to see the blood brothers. he wandered in around 1am - he's gonna be more tired than me this morning. i am, quite honestly, exhausted. like deep down muscle ache tired. like i could use more time off work but would never EVER be able to catch up if i didn't come in. i did hear on the radio this morning that there is more chance of dying of a heart attack or stroke on monday morning than any other time of the week, 'cause everyone is so stressed out about going back to work that their blood pressure is way up. i know mine is, today.

or it would be if my heart wasn't too tired to beat.

*yawn*

sleeping in the sun (lazybones)

which would be, of course, what i *wish* i were doing. or sleeping in the shade. or sleeping in the light filtered through the clouds. the operative word being sleeping. clearly.

i am a chronic early riser - a fact that never fails to delight and amuse the men i spend the night with. after the first night i spent with tcb he rolled over at 8.30am, looked at my wide awake ass said bearily "i need another hour". this morning, when my eyes popped open four short hours after they closed, i tried to roll over and say to myself "i need another hour". self did not listen, sadly, and chased me up the stairs to find coffee.

i don't imagine, however, that today will be a high-functioning brain process day.

true to form, i picked my spot on the dancefloor and stayed there all night. g came wandering up as farina hit the stage, laughing 'cause i guess he'd asked his friend if we had been spotted yet. j said he hadn't seen us and g responded, 'but they are always right... there' and sure enough there we were. i danced for hours and hours solid, then got back to the condo to find two drunkentextmessages on my phone from tcb. sadly they were from HOURS previous and he was already passed out when i got them. 'else i'd be there not here and probably naked not wearing fuzzy blue jammies.

i would be, however, awake regardless of where i was. stink.

come dancing

if you are in vancouver tonight hit the commodore and come say hi.
i'll be dancing my skinny little ass off.

have a great night!

it's save *on* tuna, elvis

i have a new favourite song.

no it's not the madonna one, but i really like that one too. shh. i need to go dancing. the divine ms u and i will be on the floor front and centre for his highness of house mark farina tomorrow night. he probably won't play this, but he may play the madonna one. a girl can dream.

i'd also like to get off my tits tomorrow night, but i'm really broke-o-la, so i may have to borrow some cash to make it happen. i would like to meet cute boys who will buy me drinks, but my tendency when i go dancing is to find myself a little place just to the right (my right not his) of the dj and stay there

all

night

long.

you pretty much have to drag me off for company/water/cocktails/flirting/all of the above, so it'll be comfy clothes and dancing shoes and i'm good to go.

you can't tell from the photo but i just got out of the tub so my hair's all damp from the bath and i am soft and smell sweet like black raspberry & vanilla body lotion. i'm also wearing the girliest panties imaginable and a tshirt with a monkey skull on it. whatevs.

ohh i also just heard the subways and this band makes me happy also. can you tell i'm sitting at home having a glass of wine (purely medicinal) and watching the wedge on muchmusic? wild and crazy friday night for the sundae.

wild.
and.
crazy.

but it's all good 'cause tomorrow i go out to dance my ass off and work out the frustration of a week of sick and the only nice boy to come my way in months (years) moving as far away from me as is humanly possible. maybe i'll find myself a dirty dirty boy to really work my frustrations out and then i'll have good stories for you.

emo sux

oh this is funny:

hm

so the palestinian people have elected the 'terrorist' party Hamas to make up its government via a free and democratic electoral process. this has, of course, sparked concern, outrage, and consternation throughout the western world, as Hamas has been denounced and banned by the us, the eu, and canada. the soundbite that i caught this morning which made me giggle to myself was from prime minister tony blair: "...they have to decide between a path of democracy or a path of violence."

has anybody mentioned this to george w?

damn.

tony is, of course, beyond reproach. he's the king of the world and i think deep down inside the reason i can't find a man who can handle me is 'cause i'm waiting for tony pierce. every day he opens up his mind and lets his words flow. you name it he knows something about it and can discourse with skill.

it sounds like i'm sucking up but i'm not. when you impress me you impress me and i have no problem letting you know. tony talks about politics and women and music and he does so with love and respect. tony pierce is beyond reproach.

save me from the borrowed cloud i'm on

so the last guy i dated who decided to move away just stopped talking to me and left me to figure it out on my own.my money's on this one doing the same thing. anyone want a piece of that action?

i am missing yoga tonight. i am still too wobbly to go stand on one leg or balance in proud warriors 1 through 3, but will try and go to work tomorrow. you know, 'cause it's friday and why not do a solid day's work in order to be fully able to appreciate the weekend?

not to mention the fact that, if i don't go to work tomorrow, i might just go fcuking postal and kill my whole family 'cause i'm sick and tired of being trapped in my room with ellen.

sorry ellen but the honeymoon is over and you ain't got the dick to keep me interested.

i've been running through my blogroll about twenty times a day wishing you people would all update more regularly thank god for dlisted 'cause he updates four-six times daily. raymi too.

the indies

the nominations are up.

go here and vote for the constantines (for some magazine's best band) and the hermit (best electronica).

do it.

weighed down with words too over-dramatic

oh tcb got the job.

i want to jump around with joy and bawl my eyes out at the same time.

this may be because i'm sick.

this may be because i become fixated on unavailable men and fuckin hell you can't get much more unavailable than australia.

funny

dizzy up the girl

i still can't stand up long enough to take a shower. yes i realize this is gross. i am weak enough that i missed yoga last night and am currently missing my first spanish class. the yoga i can make up on thursday. the spanish i will have to cram for. fortunately my papa is taking the class as well and i can (as was previously witnessed by a grade eight aged sundae who spent many an evening at his mercy trying to learn algebra) count on him to be an educational hardass therefore have thorough and/or neat&tidy notes for me to copy.

tomorrow, i believe, will be another day of bed and afternoon tv. ellen and the sundae are now tight.

tight.

i wish i could dance when she does, but i get the spins and have to lie down. i feel like i'm letting you down, ellen. i'm so sorry, sweet dory, will you ever forgive me?

the worst part is that i can't pay attention to anything for long enough to read. i've been playing with my template but can't really focus so the best i could manage was a new image. it's kind of cute though. maybe tomorrow i'll do something a little more fancy-schmancy.

now that the conservatives are in power, i plan on using the profits garnered from my 1% gst reduction to engage in a life of debauchery and hedonism. especially since it's becoming more and more apparent that a monogamous fulfilling relationship is not in the cards for me. perhaps i'll spend my first million on sex toys and leather wear.

ahem.

anyway.

in the meantime, check out rick mercer's predictions on sharper's cabinet picks. it'll be interesting to see how many he's called.

baby we're goin down swinging

what i want to say is "don't go. i have this funny feeling in my belly about you. well, about you and me. stay here and let's see what happens. we can go on adventures and laugh and cry and scream and fuck and travel and laugh some more and it won't always be awesome but it will always be worth it and you'll never wonder what if."

what i will say is "this is an awesome opportunity and i totally envy you the possibility. i'm sure you will be successful and amazingly happy. good luck."

this is, of course, academic for the moment. he hasn't technically got the job yet. but he will, of course, because he's normal, and nice, has started dating me, and i actually like him. it was no coincidence that he got called for an interview the monday after our first date. i told him as much the other night. told him to just think of me as his good luck charm. he laughed, as though he didn't quite believe me but said thanks anyway.

sick-o

home sick. dunno if i've got the flu or if it's just the meds but i've been sleeping for the better part of the last 36 hours and am really nauseous. see that guy in the classmates add? the one there on the bottom? i'm pretty sure he was my elementary school crush in grades six and seven. like, if i dug through some boxes, i could probably find that very picture. how funny is that? i guarantee you he didn't marry that chick in the photo above. she may, however, have been our grade seven teacher in an earlier life.

the cute boy nearly got his ear ripped off playing hockey on saturday night. like the picture he sent me is GROSS - there is something like eleven stitches in his earlobe. *shudders*. yes picture. no i didn't rush to his side to hold his hand when he was in the er. no he didn't call me. yes that is a very good thing. i would have probably gone and then been grumpy about it 'cause i'm pathologically afraid of hospitals. also of escalators but that's a post for another day.

ok i need to go back to sleep now. i *have* been awake for an hour now, you know.

hold on a frickin' second

i forgot about the sexual side effects associated with some forms of anti depressants.

like, how it now takes me a year and a half to ... erm ... you know.


this is not cool how long does it last make it go away oh my god i may die.

fortunately the cute boy seems willing to wait it out. as in is willing to keep going for seemingly endless periods of time. thank fucking christ. speaking of, is the cute boy an appropriate moniker? as in tcb? will that be too readily confused with tnb?

shit have just been reading they don't go away. will have to go back to the dr.

best. post. ever

if vanessa carlton ever comes within 50 feet of me i am going to do my pikachu impression and shoot lightning bolts up her asshole into her spine and turn her brain into mad cow diseased hamburger to serve them to her fucking record company executives and watch them twitch themselves into a pit of aids needles while lighting on fire for the unforgivable crime of that TERRIBLE FUCKING CD.


the motherfucking pants.

how is it not friday?

you really want BA Barracus on your side in these situations – especially when he’s a flesh eating deranged zombie.

i just now noticed that i have 666 posts. if i'd noticed that before i would have gone one of two ways - either stopped there forever, or immediately written a nothing post to get over the hump. i can't decide.

anyway.

this is the first time all week that i've been home before 7pm. i'm vehicularly challenged, you see, and have been relying on the kindness of strangers. or not strangers, but colleagues. you get my drift. in addition to this, my doctor has prescribed celexa for me. it's leaving me in this weird state where all i feel is sort of a numb nausea, and my sleeping is messed up. i take it at night 'cause it is supposed to make you drowsy, which is a bad before work idea. and it does make me drowsy, but it also, weirdly makes me really wired and unable to fall asleep. oh and there's the feeling constantly like i'm going to vomit. hopefully that goes away.

none of this is a worthy excuse for not posting in days, but at the same time it's a great excuse, really, 'cause i haven't been myself. mind you, there is a whole lot of that going around the innerweb, i think, 'cause the ennui i am feeling seems to be fairly endemic.

in other news, remember the cute guy i went out with last weekend? the one that makes my heart go pit-a-pat? yeah, he had an interview for his dream job the other night. sadly, it's in australia. figures.

polyphonic prostitute (now it's suitable)

sex with tnb was pretty good. if i had one complaint, it was that he never went down on me. well, i can't say *never* 'cause i think he did three times in the entire nine months we dated. but close to never. he sure was a willing recipient of the oral love, just a not so willing... decipient? purveyor. yeah, purveyor.

saturday night i went to watch him (not tnb) play hockey. lucky for me, the rink he was on was viewable from the pub and so, left to my own devices, i quietly got drunk to keep myself amused. (well, and had a weirdly serious spiritual type conversation with a woman who was there to support the opposing team, but that's an entry for another day.) i figured he'd take forever once the game ended - they sit around after and drink beer and rehash every single play - but he came out straight away, dumped his gear in the car and sat down beside me. we had another beer, then headed back to his place and he showed me in, then tucked me up on the couch with a blanket while he put his gear away. after a few minutes, he came down, popped in the dvd and crawled under the blanket with me, scooping my legs up over his lap so that i was half on the couch, half on top of him. he reached down, picked up my hand in his, and started kissing my knuckles, sort of absent-mindedly, almost unconciously. i snuggled down on the couch, enjoying the warmth of the blanket and of his mouth. "do you want to lie down?" i asked. he didn't answer, just slid me forward a bit on the couch and curled in behind me, never letting go of my hand.

tnb never used his mouth enough. i love the feel of a man's mouth - so much harder than a woman's, soft but hard, rough but gentle. he scraped his teeth across my knuckles, not watching me, just knowing, feeling me shudder. he reached up, pushed my hair back, and took my earlobe in his teeth, flicking his tongue against it. it was almost more than i could bear- i turned my head and kissed him, grabbing his bottom lip with my teeth and pulling him over on top of me in one motion. i wanted him now NOW but he knew better, knew enough to pull back, undo my shirt, slip it off, pull my tits out of my bra and suck them gently, gently, then not so gently. he ran his tongue down my belly to the top of my jeans, tugging the button open, pulling them down off my hips, tugging the waist of my panties in his teeth and he moved down, keeps moving down, down, pulling my clothes off, kissing me all the way down, scraping his teeth on my hips, running his tongue along the crease at the top of my legs. jeans are off now, pulls my hips up to meet his mouth, licks me from my ass all the way around to my clit then latches on, sucks and licks and bites till i almost can't take it anymore, scoops me up and lays me down on the floor bends over me so that i can take him in my mouth at the same time all the while kissing and licking and biting me, using his tongue and his fingers and his teeth and his lips.

pirates of the caribbean, huh? now i understand..

mlk jr day

today is mlk day. stop, reflect. are you truly sending positivity out into the world?
he said:

Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true.

I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. That is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.

Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time; the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.

The good neighbor looks beyond the external accidents and discerns those inner qualities that make all men human and, therefore, brothers.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

why is it that canada does not recognize martin luther king jr day? and don't tell me it's because he was an american. mlk was a citizen of the world - what he spoke about and stood for transcends national boundaries and metaphorical borderlines.

nk is gone. i haven't removed him from the sidebar yet, 'cause it makes me sad a little.

more later. xo

edit - i changed the post title, cause polyphonic prostitute didn't seem so respectful-like.

destination unknown, ruby ruby ruby ruby soho

when mike b invites girls that he wants to make out with to his house to watch movies, he inevitably pops in 'pirates of the caribbean'. he says it's better panty remover than lemon gin. girls can't resist the swashbuckling charm combo of orlando and johnny d. throw in a little mike b magic and bob's yer uncle.

i think that, to this date, i'm the only woman who hasn't succumb.

last night, as i curled up on the couch at the cute boy's place, he asked me "do you want to watch pirates of the caribbean or bladerunner?" i started to laugh, and explained mike b's theory when he queried my on my humour. he looked at me, looked at the dvds in his hands, and chucked bladerunner over his shoulder.

last night i didn't even bother putting up a fight.

i'm two quarters and a heart down

i took a colour picture for ciavarro, my second ever internet crush. i'm feeling a little nostalgic tonight, so thought i'd dredge through my fondest memories with the help of a bottle or three of red wine. though i did notice, however, that my mama has been dipping into my stash of rh phillips. i can't say too much though, i guess. she did give birth to me. the least i can do is share my wine.

do you know that if it rains till sunday we are going to hit a record for the most consecutive days of rainfall in a row? how messed up is that? if you don't hear from me again, it's probably because i've chewed through my wrists in some kind of coyote ugly suicide - i've woken up and rolled over and found myself in bed with mother nature and she's frickin' f-u-g.

the divine ms u and i have a standing payday date with the outlet mall right by our office. we hit garage fortnightly for cheep tshirts and stuff to wear dancing. it saddens me 'cause my "nice rack" (as the cute boy my sister introduced me to refers to it) means that i have to buy a large, but whatevs. for five dollar tshirts i'll wear a double-x if i have to. or a triple-x. that'd be sweeeeet. but vindiesel triple x not ice cube 'cause the cube may have *been* the shit, but lately-ish he's been less straight outta compton and more straight outta disney. he used to be so hot. le sigh.

i don't think the cute new boy is interested. mike b says it's the fear talking. i am less convinced. i guess we'll see, huh?

i'm still taking offers from cute boys. you've all seen me now - if you are interested in taking a cute blonde girl out some night you know where to find me. tomorrow night'd be good, too, 'cause it's haircut day. i heart haircut day.

wow i'm drunkenrambling i do apologize. xoxo

things that sound dirty but really aren't #572

"i'm looking for something sweet to suck on."
uttered innocently by me, raspberry sundae, upon being asked what she was looking for at the convenience store this evening. i'm not sure who blushed more - me or the poor pimply faced teenager who probably hangs out with my kid...

things i held sacred that i dropped

further to my previous post, one of my fave... not writers per se, but definately one of my fave characters (dorothy parker) wrote this:

By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

she's my sweet soul sister for sure.

so along those lines, i find myself in a bit of an emotional pickle. a pickle? yes, a pickle.

you may recall the fact that the sister had decided to introduce me to a good friend of hers, selling him as equipped with features such as 'cute, good job, not a psycho, sunroof optional' (all very appealing attributes, i must say). she wasn't planning on putting any kind of matchmaking effort in, or anything, just to introduce us. which she did. now i was kind of drunk (witness the red-faced sundae a couple of posts ago) and i may have given him a wee kiss, but only the flirty kind i give everyone. we did sit and talk for a while - away from the crowd, chatting about 'getting to know you' stuff. he asked for my number. he asked me for a hug at the end of the night. he text'd me on nye when i was out with W49 to say happyhappy. all good things.

so where's the pickle? where's the pickle? yes, where's the pickle? he sounds nice - this seems normal. well, my friends, therein lies the pickle. he is nice. this is normal. i have this weird tug in the pit of my belly when i think of him (mike b says this is a good thing. i'm unconvinced). we were going to hang out on sunday but he hurt himself with a keg of beer and a canucks game on saturday, so couldn't. we might hang out on thursday instead, or perhaps over the weekend.

now, is this my usual lust talking? once i fuck him will i want nothing to do with him (as is my usual habit)? or am i being weirdly obsessive about someone that i barely know? i just don't know.

** edit **
so i did a virtual rune thing and came up with this:

Dagaz - Transformation, Breakthroughs

Dagaz denotes important breakthroughs in relation to whatever concerns you. The moment is right and therefore success is assured. This is the Rune of radical trust, even if circumstances require you to jump to the void with apparently empty hands.

It often introduces an important time of prosperity and great results. However, you are reminded to pay attention and not allow yourself to be carried away or to behave carelessly in your new situation. Humility and generosity are advised.

i can be generous. i can be humil. humbil. humilous? practice humility. you know what i mean...

under helicopters of desire

To lust with raging lungs. What hangs above when we love in fear? Don't take me to the hospital. Don't tie me to the wires. Just kiss me on a rooftop. It's for us. he's got the softest skin i ever felt and when he flipped me over, pushed my hair up up off my neck and gently grabbed the knot at the top of my spine with his teeth i could feel goosebumps rising the length of me, rising up closer closer closer to his touch. i arched my back against him, thrust my ass up, couldn't get near enough, couldn't find a way to smother my skin with his body. how can i climb inside him how can i feel him from the inside out how can i surround myself with the velvet pressure of his touch.

i know as he pushes inside me that this might be my only chance - that when it's done my lust will flicker and fade away. this will be the only time we meet here, in the dark, in desire.

it has to count for everything. i have to drink him all in take him all in my mouth touch every inch of him with my hands my tongue. i have to make it count for everything.

he rises up behind me with a gasp, pulling my hips in tight and i can feel him crash over me i fall to the bed face down on the pillow and bring him with me so that his body is on top of me his weight anchors me in this moment. don't ever let it slip away. this is the only truth - two bodies two people minds free and linked together at the same time.

this is the only truth don't ever let it slip away but even as i think this even before he's pulled out of me even while we are still together i am already thinking about someone else i am already gone.

15 min of fame

holy crap i found a picture of myself on the judge jules website

i was very drunk, clearly.

housekeeping

so i made some updates to the ol' sidebar. sadly i had to delete a blog that i used to love that has been defunct for some time, and i was holding onto purely for sentimentality's sake. i also ditched the brain libations ('cause i read way too fast to keep up with it, and it was having the effect of making me appear as though i was just this side of illiterate) and also the on the decks 'cause i felt like it. i may add them back when i finally finish the waking up with sundae cd, but right now it's too big and ungainly and offends my ocd.

i also finally added phil and raymi after a year of stalking them and having a secret secret blogger crush on phil. nk reports that he is very very tall, so the crush may be somewhat weakening. i have some interesting lovelife updates for you, but seem to be having difficulty putting them into words. i'll try again later, though, i promise.

(this is raspberry speaking to herself for a moment. i'm going to lecture - feel free to tune out the same way you did when you were fourteen and your mom found beer in your room)
hey lady. this journal is a forum for you to get the swirly thoughts out of your head and onto the page. you know you always do better at sorting shit out that way, then you do strictly keeping it inside. write it down, lady, and stop stalling.
(lecture over)

another frank sinatra so i can get you in bed

though there was never any real doubt before, let me just say, we kick ass. the office started to slowly empty out yesterday around about 2.30 as people made their way to their favourite watering holes. i hung around for another hour, then drove home listening to the pregame and puckdrop on the radio. i don't know if it's just that i spent so many of my formative years watching hockey night in canada, or if it's just something you are born with as a canadian, but i fully had goosebumps listening to the pregame.

gretzky predicted a 4-1 win for canada. he came pretty freakin' close. the final score was five-oh but i do believe that the *real* score was 5-1 (i won't begrudge the russians that one goal. pogge didn't need another shut out.) i love the fact that the russians are as passionate about this game as we are. i love the fact that the goalie chucked his stick across the ice, flew over the boards, and bawled his eyes out for five minutes. i love the fact that his coach stuck with him till the bitter end - he's a great goalie he just didn't have the magic the canadians did last night. i love the fact that, going into this tournament, no one believed that the canadian team would even make the medal round. i love the fact that the finnish team beat the us 'cause the americans are cocky and need to have their asses kicked around the world stage in at least one kind of arena (no offence to my us friends). it was just a great game, and there was good sportsmanship on behalf of the winning team and the winning audience and the energy in the crowd was palpable even through the television.

i hated the fact that scalpers were selling tix to this game for upwards of $800 'cause half of the money made from this tournament goes back to hockey canada and i believe in supporting amateur sports in whichever shape they take.

i have some personal stuff meandering around in my brain, but i'll write that later, after a glass or two of wine when i'm in my pj's in front of the fire, k?

xo

i'll be your number one with a bullet

i've managed to make my own blog nsfw for myself - i have to furtively ensure that there is no one behind me before i check for comments and/or the changes which i always hope have occurred, but never do (*ahem* german, ciavarro - stinkin' guest bloggers who never guest blog).

this is, of course, as opposed to my pre-digicam days, when i simply had to make sure that there were no higher-up boss types behind me before i checked on my bloggity. i do actually care whether or not my co-workers see my tah-tahs. other than the divine ms u, of course, 'cause she's seen 'em before.

so my poor 'puter is still in bits all over the table. this is a subtle improvement - it was in bits all over my floor, previously - but it is an improvement nonetheless. as soon as i've figured out what's wrong with it (and when i say *i*, i of course mean someone else) it will be put back together and the happy happy getting up with sundae cds will be compiled.

anyhooo... i should probably *pretend* to be working at least. this whole vacation thing messed me up royally - my sleep patterns are screwed, and i have absolutely no drive or ambition right now. i really was cut out for a life of scholarly pursuits which can be conducted from the comfort of your own home.

that or a straight up life of leisure - i'm easy.

work sux

so tomorrow morning i have to go back to work. i don't like going to work. i like my life of leisure. i would like to somehow maintain it. how can i do this, i wonder?

well, aside from taking a sugar daddy. actually, fuck that i'll take a sugar daddy. just keep in mind that you'll have to make enough to support me, you, and the kiddo. if you are good with that, i'm good with it as well. and i don't have a particularly extravagant lifestyle, though i do enjoy creature comforts such as dinners out weekly and nice shoes.

oh as a point of interest, the bumshot below was taken in W49's bedroom. he was in the shower. i took the opportunity of being left to my own devices in his apartment not to snoop, but to take pictures of myself posed on his furniture. somehow, i don't think he'll mind.

dating dilemma: so my sister's friend asked me for my number on friday night. i gave it to him. he sent me a text message on nye to say happy ny. i responded with a thanksyou, but should i call to say hiya? he's cute. i'd go out with him fo-sho. hm. perhaps i should just send back another witty text message. i'm so bad at this shit. i'm good at meeting someone and fanning the chemical attraction/reaction between us, but then from there on out i'm the worst. i never know how to act appropriately.

ok there - i text'd him back. let's see if that stirs up a little excitement, shall we? why not start the new year off with a... well see now i want to say bang, here, but i kind of already did that, now didn't i? let's just say a new adventure. yeah, that'll do, donkey. i'm in the mood for an adventure, or two. or hell, even three.

no not three - i'd get far too scattered for three. and, seriously, who has the energy?

when it reigns

first off happy new year to everyone. i hope that oh6 is everything you hope it could ever be. ok lame year end list alert...

top five things that happened to me in 2005:

1. discovering the constantines. yes it really did take me this long. yes i dreadfully regret it.
   
2. learning how to wakeboard for my doublethird birthday
   
3. touching dave grohl
   
4. getting switched to another department at work and figuring out that it wasn't really *me* who sucked, it was my previous position.
   
5. shagging in the churchyard
   

other stuff:

• fave snack food of 2005 - it's a tie between dark chocolate peanut m&m's & kettle cooked firecracker hallapeeno peanuts
  
• fave book of 2005 - eleanor rigby by douglas coupland
  
• fave dj show of 2005 - mark farina & dj heather at the commodore
  
• fave live band show of 2005 - constantines opening for the weakerthans
  
• fave romantic moment of 2005 - sitting watching the sunset, drinking wine & eatin g burgers with tnb
  
• fave blog post by me of 2005 - the church sex one i linked to above

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

enough of that shit. ok, so if you'll recall, my sister had invited a guy along to judge jules to introduce me to. turns out he's pretty cute. we had a decent conversation about work and stuff and he asked for my number. so i get home round about four.am then log into le laptop and rori is on line and we talk for like an hour - the essence of the conversation being mostly about him actually being in love with me but being too afraid to admit it. so then i get to the island and spend new years with west49 and have a really good time and sometime after one my sister's budy shoots me a 'happy new year' text message and holy shit what the hell.

ug my belly hurts from too many firecracker jalapeno peanuts and a whole can of coc-a-cola.

hey, wolfie there's your ass photo. sorry it's six months late.. xoxo

i call this one 'wardrobe malfunction'

mystery of the dial up internet solved - the kiddo was yanking all the bandwidth to download some massive game. i made him pause till later tonight and reset the damn thing. now we're moving along at a much quicker clip.

we went 'cross the border to hit the outlet malls today. the sales were good but the lineup was an hour on the way down and almost two on the way back. naturally my family makes me drive so i'm tired and cranky and am supposed to be going out to see judge jules tonight and really really want carlot boy to call, ask if i want to go curl up somewhere and drink wine and make out, and save me from all night dance parties. how pissed would my friends be? oh mighty pissed, young raspberry. mighty pissed.

shit i just vomitted up my dinner. see, i should never eat when stressed out / angry. it's not good for me.

anyhoooooo i'm heading out tonight and am less than excited. it has more to do with the border lineups and my strong desire to curl up with a cute boy and make out more than it does my lack of desire to go out. plus i know that when i least want to go, i always end up having the *most* fun, so i'll buck up and smile.

i was stricken by a strong sense of missing tnb earlier, cause i was talking to mike b from away and felt very lonely. therefore, it wasn't really tnb i was missing, just the male companionship. oh well - i'll have some of that tomorrow, right?

fortified with the liquor store

my innerweb connection is fucking SLOW like dial up slow like bang my head on the keyboard slow like before when we were with telus there were days it didn't work at all but when it did work at least it was fucking FAST slow.

i just might kill somebody. it's pretty fucking slow. (wow when i said that i totally had tnb's voice in my head. scary shit, dude.)
HEY speaking of tnb do you know that he didn't even call me to say merry merry? fucker. not like i called him either, but since the last thing he said to me was 'i'll call you tomorrow' and that was three weeks ago i don't think i was entirely out of line for leaving him off my christmas card list this year, you know?

are you tired of looking at me yet? well too fucking bad 'cause i'm all about this camera thing. i'm also getting kind of freaky about the impending plans for this weekend - like excited anxious freaky like maybe not so much in a good way freaky like i should maybe go spend some money to make myself feel better freaky.

i'm just sayin'.

hey i missed watching supernatural this week somehow. i think it was 'cause i lost the remote and turned on the tv but then got stuck on a channel. do you think people only used to have one channel 'cause they didn't have remotes, or was it vice versa? huh. interesting thought. oh i found it, by the way, in my tshirt drawer. how did it get there, you ask? well i obviously decided it was a good place to store the stupid thing. clearly.

i may have been drunk at the time.

who's to say.

i'm trying to upload another picture but it's so fucking slow that the damn thing keeps timing out I'M GOING TO KILL SOMEONE i swear to god. ok fuck it no more pictures i'm gonna go spend money.

space flunky, four on the floor

so this time last year i posted the following helpful form letter. i know that you, like me, will most likely have use for it over the upcoming weekend. the problem with new year's falling on friday saturday or sunday is that you are compelled to fill the other weekend nights with debauchery of a comparable level. can't have any of them feeling inadequate, you know.

clearly.

so anyway, as a public service (no one can say that we here at the sundae sanatorium are anything but helpful), here is the letter. feel free to print it out and distribute as necessary. pants, ciavarro, i may have you in mind.

Dear Mr. / Mrs. ___________

I am writing to apologize for my ________ behaviour the other night, and i hope that despite everything, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I should have known there would be a problem when your ______ first brought out the ________ of _______ that was so big it needed a handle. I was nervous about meeting you for the first time, and although i can usually hold my ________, i thought that having a few ________ would help me to _________. I was obviously very very wrong.

I honestly don't remember much between _______ with your visiting relatives and _______, but i'm told that i made quite a scene. If past experience is anything to go by, I'm guessing I whipped out my ______ and said "______" a lot. I hope i didnt' try to sit on your husband's / wife's _________ or make out with your ______, but at this point, nothing would surprise me. In my mind, I was just trying to be _______. All i know is that i woke up bathed in _________, with a blinding hangover, next to your ________ in the _________ in your driveway. I'm guessing you probably saw the big pile of ______ on the table where we tried to ________, but I'm hoping you didn't walk in while we were ________. We disposed of the _______ in the ________, so hopefully you didn't stumble across that, but i'm sure the lingering _____ smell was unmistakable. I have a vague recollection of the _______ arriving, so I guess the person the neighbours heard at 4am shouting "________" was me. Oops. Sorry again.

I'd be happy to pay for the _________ I broke (I only threw my ________ out of it because i thought it was open) and replace the tub of ________ and the plastic ________ that went missing, and if you have any trouble getting the _______ stains and the ________ marks out of the furniture, please send me the cleaning bills.

Please accept my sincerest apologies and this _______ that I made.

For what it's worth, all the best of the holiday season, and once again, my deepest regrets for being such a _______, ________, ________. I don't usually show people that side of myself until the second or third meeting.

Remorsefully,


________________________


PS - if a pair of black mesh _________ you don't recognize turn up somewhere, they're probably mine. Since you probably never want to see me again, you may as well just keep them.

so for my new year i'm going to go hang out with a guy i met in a bar a year ago and haven't seen since (we chat almost daily - at least a few times a week - via the ehm ess enn, but no in-person type communication). now, this is the night *after* going to see judge jules, where there will surely bE somE party trEats imbibed. i do it only for the sake of the commentary which will surely follow. it's all for you, and for posterity. clearly. my gosh the things i put myself through for you people....

as an aside, how long does it generally take for the fascination with taking half naked photos of yourself wears off? 'cause last night i took a whole slew (the one posted previously included). carlot boy logged in during my photophrenzy and, once he learned what i was up to, commissioned an entirely topless shot. of course i had to fulfill his wants and desires. he's cute and is very sweet, despite my co-workers suspicions otherwise.

the topless one was just for him, though. sorry.

**edit** by the way, how fucking nicole richie skinny does my arm look in that picture? i've entitled it golem. i'm not a praying mantis stick bug, i swear to god. i'm actually kind of curvy..

hump day

ok i think that it's wednesday. i'm not entirely sure - this whole time off thing messes with my head, yo, and i dunno if i'm coming or going. what i do know is that i can't find my television remote and am utterly incapacitated. dude i *know* there's good tv on right now, i just can't *get* to it.

i also know that on friday (i think? yeah, friday) we are gonna go see judge jules at a dirty little club downtown. i think that going out the night before new year is quite revolutionary, socially, and i deserve a cookie for spearheading this campaign. my little set has plans to stay in for new year's eve and subvert the commercialism and wanton drunken overindulgence that the night has come to embody.

yeah i thought that idea sucked, too, so i'm gonna go to victoria to go to a party with a guy i met there last year.

i spent most of today in bed, getting up only to make tea and switch over laundry. well that is until 4pm or so when i had to get dressed to go for dinner with my family. it was a lovely dinner, but i vaguely resented having to take off my fuzzy winnie the pooh jammies and put on makeup and respectable clothing. you can tell how impressed i am based on my photo.

i am being insincere and ungrateful - it was a lovely dinner, the sister was in grand entertainer form and the restaurant is very nice. a girl sitting at the table next to us, however, did lead me by the hands to the brink of a moral dilemma. she removed her coat and let it slip down the back of the chair behind her. still stuck into the lining of the coat was the old navy pricetag - clearly a christmas or hanukkah gift of some sort. now, is it my place to point out to her that she's inadvertantly advertised to the restaurant that her jacket was $40 on sale? or do i simply let it go, seeing as the garment is outerwear?

i let it go, figuring that it would embarress her more to have her slip pointed out. and hell, what do i know? she could be returning the damn thing on the drive home. who'm i to judge?

happy blog-day

two years ago in the sanatorium: "this would be my first attempt at this. i am, if you will, a blog virgin. i've been thinking about the wierdness of connecting with people on the internet. it's not like i have trouble meeting people in *real* life-- i am just fascinated by the sheer volume of people that i have no other way of coming in contact with. does this make me a bit of a tart? hmm i wonder."

i started this journal as a way of getting my thoughts out of my head.. as a way of getting myself back into the habit of writing daily. what it has turned into is that, as well as a really interesting way of connecting to people whom i've never met - just the thing that i said i was fascinated with way back when. it's hard, sometimes, to think that i've been doing this for two years, and am still interested in keeping it going. i've met some great people over the innerweb - both in person and metaphysically - and i come here every day looking for conversation, and for inspiration, and just to get the sense that i'm part of a community of people who have been flung together by more than just a job or the convenience of location or the same taste in music. i like to think that there is a little more to friendships forged with people who connect almost exclusively cerebrally.

but that's just me.

peace on earth

i'm busy simultaneously helping my mama try out her new fancy-schmancy corkscrew and introducing her to several new varieties of red wine. see, last night i stuck to vodka and passed out watching 'a christmas carol', only to wake up two hours later, the tv blaring a infomercial, mostly on top of the blankets and half spooning my sister.

don't be dirty - her and my brother stayed over 'cause of the whole first thing in the morning thing. there isn't enough beds.

'round about eightpm i texted a message to carlot boy wishing him a merry ho ho xoxo. he responded back milliseconds later, offering the same greeting, heavy on the x. we swapped lacivious notes for a few minutes, then i begged off to partake in family type wholesome activities, only to receive an eleven30 phone call asking if i wanted to maybe sneak out for a drive.

i declined. well, mostly i passed out. but whatevs.

what did santa bring you? it seems like that naughty elf tapped into my picture pondering and has weighed in on the situation by leaving a lovely digital camera under the tree with raspberry's name on the tag. i experimented with some boob shots a la the pants but nothing came out quite to my liking. soon, though, i imagine.


holy shit, by the way, and merry christmas to me - the constantines are playing the media club jan 15...

'twas the night before

so it's christmas eve and once again i feel as though i've rushed up to this day (which is one of my favourite days of the year) and have missed a whole bunch of stuff that should have been done. now it's too late and it won't get done until at least next year.

i guess, though, if it didn't *get* done it probably didn't really need to.

i've made:

• nanaimo bars
• fudge
• oreo cheesecake squares
• raspberry white chocolate shortbread
• hazelnut cappucino cookies
• pecan sandies
• chewy nut squares
• milk chocolate almond bark
• two different kinds of nuts - one sweet & one savoury
• chocolate macaroon shortbread

i think that's all. i was going to make more but ran out of time/energy.

the kiddo is getting pretty much *every*thing on his list. it's quite sick, really - but he's the only child/grandchild and so i guess that is the way things should work.

christmas at my house starts late in the afternoon christmas eve. neighbours and/or my parents' work colleagues come by for tea and sweets and my mom gets kind of stressed out 'cause she is happy they've come to visit, but worried about being kept away from feast-type preparations. once they've all gone home, we sit down to supper. my mama grew up in northern ontario, and lived in a town with a high population of french canadians, so christmas was as much about the parties and gatherings and festivities of the eve as it was about the day. we have tourtiere, which is traditionally served on Reveillon (christmas eve) in quebec. this is one of the big deals i remember from being a kid, which kind of slipped away when my sister and i left home, but which i reinstated a few years ago. except now, i make it instead of my mom. it's a meat pie of ground beef and pork simmered with spices and broth, then cooked with grated potato and carrot and baked in the oven till it's golden brown. i can't eat it, of course, so i'm always on a quest to find myself an appropriate replacement, but it's still super important to me for it to be there.

when supper's through we clear up and bring out the games and the cocktails. we play board games and just basically laugh for hours. friends come in and join for a while, then head off to spend time with their own families, or friends who are away from their families come and spend the night. once the kiddo and my brother (who's the youngest sibling so adopts the role of the baby again on this night) have gone to bed, the 'santa' gifts come out and the stockings are filled. my parents wait till i've gone to bed to do mine, but i always sneak back up to flip on the tree lights and just look at it for a few moments in peace. then i go to bed and wait for the kiddo or my brother to wake me up at six or some other equally sick hour of the morning. once the presents are done, we start eating and basically eat all day. eventually, if it's not raining, i'll start to go stir crazy and have to get out for a walk or something, but everyone else will nap or watch movies or talk to family in ireland and do all of that good stuff, until it's time for dinner.

i guess most people's holiday traditions are the same - an amalgamation of whatever cultural or family backgrounds have combined, then evolved into something new. for example, when my sister was away, we always put a lit candle in the front window to guide her home for christmas eve (my dad comes from generation upon generation of sailors). i imagine tonight we'll do it for her boyfriend, who's off at sea again this year. we have french canadian tourtiere for christmas eve dinner, cause that's how my mom grew up. i am curious to see which traditions the kiddo will take with him when he leaves home and starts his own family, and which traditions his future wife will bring with her. i'm also always curious about the traditions of other people - what are yours?

anyway... i guess it's probably time for me to get up and start my day. i'm off for brunch with mike b - tomorrow he's flying to thailand for five weeks and so we are going to spend a little time together today. then i have to come home and start preparations for dinner tonight. if i don't speak with you again, have a merry merry christmas full of love and food and kindness and sharing. i wish you all the best of the day and of the season, and hope that all of your christmas dreams come true.

love, raspberry
xoxo

day before the night before

so i went back to the doctor today after a couple of months of blood test and puzzlement and being oh-so-very tired all the time (the kind of tired where some days i'm not sure if i am going to make it home from work or the shop or wherever it is that i am without falling asleep and crashing my car and going out in a smashy-smashy blaze of jon bon jovi-esque glory).

she made me do one of those little circle the number tests to see if i am depressed 'cause there's no real medical reason for the sleepy sleepy. i answered to the best of my ability but there were some where i just selected the answer closest to the right one rather than write a brief summary of the truth which would probably make me look not so much depressed as fucking crazy.

(what do you mean young raspberry? well for example question 7) do you restrict your eating in order to lose weight? answer) yes sometimes, but more often i get so anxious about the food i *have* eaten that i vomit the contents of my stomach and so feel better and don't need to diet. or, perhaps, question 9)do you have less interest in sex than you used to? answer) yes kind of really it's more like i want to go out and fuck random anonymous men who will only treat me like shit in order to justify my own sense of self loathing. that's pretty normal, isn't it? thought so)

she feels that i am, indeed, depressed - perhaps even *very* depressed. she recommends getting a sad light and exercising for 45 min a day five days a week.

i'll get right on that.

well, after i drink myself into a stupor, of course.

yay for vay-kay

omg i'm off till jan three and i'm so happy i could spin through the house pirouetting and laughing out loud. i love the fact that our office closes for that week. it's the best thing ever 'cause i spent a lot of time in school and am pretty used to having extended periods of time where i don't have to do anything but nurse a hangover headache, walk around in my jammies, cook increasinly elaborate meals that are deceptive in their seeming simplicity, and read paperback novels in coffee shops.

so here i go off to do those very things for a week and a half. which, of course, means that i'm either going to be very prolific or very absent from these hallowed halls. probably prolific 'cause lets not kid i don't really have much of a life.

i went out for dinner with mike b last night to this place downtown called villa del lupo (mr wolf it seems right up your alley). i ate and ate and ate more than i've eaten the rest of the week put together and it was so frickin' good i almost died. i even ate a few things that i am kind of allergic too so had a bit of a bad belly when i got home but muthafucka was worth it i swear to jeebus.

ok i was sitting here feeling a little self righteous about the whole finished with my christmas preparations thing but my brother just popped his head in and asked me to help him out with something for my sister so i guess i should haul my lazy assaholic out of bed and take a shower or some shit.

xoxo

don't think don't speak

i've been listening to adam freeland on the way to work in the morning. it's really really good - house-y breaks keep me seat dancing all over the car. spo, if you ever find the adam freeland on that site, you'll understand.
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sent the carlot boy a text message last night "you are horrid for my poor ego" i said. he is more than a little bit of a workaholic. he'll turn up and we'll go have a drink and a good chat and kiss a bit then i won't see him or hear from him for three months. when i do he'll be in the middle east for six weeks visiting family (now that was a crazy phone call to get) or he'll have taken over another car dealership and be working fourteen hour days.

he called back about an hour later - "sorry" he said. "i was playing hockey." we chatted for a while as he drove home, then he rang off, saying he'll call today.

i'll bet you five bucks it'll be march before i talk to him again.
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the sister is matchmaking. i think she's completely puzzled by the state of my lovelife. (aren't we all, the sundae asks knowingly). she's picked out a new victim, erm i mean potential suitor, for me and is trying to arrange a meeting. i feel a certain amount of hesitance / reluctance to date anyone my sister has chosen for me, especially someone who she considers a friend. how awkward will it be when i completely fuck the situation up - cause we all know that i will. (yes, yes you will, sundae, says the sundae, nodding knowingly).
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fuckitol / edible telephones / whale blubber

think, thank, thunk

ok so here's the deal.

in just over a week, my little bloggity blog will be two. what am i thinking of doing to celebrate, you ask?

well, i'm thinking of coming out of the closet.

no, not that way, you cheeky monkey.

i mean, up until this point this journal has been mostly anonymous. there are a few people from my 'real' life who know about this, but i can count those people on one hand. or at least i think i can.

(hey if you are reading this and you know who i am but have never 'fessed up, now is the time, by the way.)

but i'm thinking of maybe putting up some pictures. like, the kind where you can actually see who i am.

i hesitate for two reasons. the first is that i've talked about stuff here that i'd be kind of embarassed for some people to read about - especially if people i worked with found out about this site. the second is that i worry i'd be less inclined to talk openly and honestly if you could see who i am - most especially about sex and stuff.

yes i realize i haven't written about sex in a while but it's 'cause i'm NOT HAVING ANY.

oooooo hey... if i posted a photo or two of myself, perhaps someone would actually take me up on it when i announce that i'm looking for a date or some male type company for the evening. mind you then again perhaps people who've contemplated it before would run away screaming.

hmmmmm.

what to do? what do you think? stay anonymous or start putting up pictures of myself? if you self-identify on your sites, do you censor yourselves, or not censor and get asked awkward questions? how do you handle the work thing? there are such positives and negatives to both sides of the issue. it will take some thinking but by the twenty.7th i shall make a decision.

five habits

minako tagged me to talk about five of my wierd habits, and so here i am giving up the goods. in more ways than one, if you get my drift.

1. i group things in threes. whenever i organize stuff on my desk, or on counters, or as a display, they are always in threes, in sort of a triangle type pattern.
   
2. when i pour myself coffee in the morning, i take the full cup to the stop of the stairs, stop, and take a little sip before descending. that's my first sip, and i do it that way every day.
   
3. i do things in a circular way - for example, when i apply eyeliner, i do the top lid of the right eye, then the bottom lid, then the bottom lid of the left eye then the top. makes a circle - closes the loop. i also drive home via one route, then home by another, but the home route picks up the to-work route, so a round trip makes a circle.
   
4. i obsessively search for relationship advice on the internet, even when i'm not in a relationship. i know, it's fucked, but i can't stop wondering whether or not someone, somewhere, has it all figured out.
   
5. i play with my nose ring all the time - i turn it around and fiddle with it and pull it half out.
   

well that's my five. i'm supposed to tag people to carry on... i don't like to do that but if you want to play then post in the comments so i can see :)

wtf?

what? nobody wants the cd? holy heck you offer people free stuff i figured you'd be lining up. no dice. no love. i can't get no respect.

so my car lot boy was online when i logged in after spending the evening hanging with my folks.i was half loaded after drinking the better part of a bottle of cab-sav (minus the part i splashed across the white living room carpet whilst gesticulating wildly). anyway, carboy said to me 'i'm near your neighbourhood and my buddies want to go to a club. save me - let me come pick you up'. i hemmed and haw'd, then thought hell why not? it's only midnight.

my buddy from work, the one who's been trying to get me to be naked for him, was chatting with me at the same time. he started getting funny - making comments like how carboy was clearly coming to get me for a bootycall and how come i'd give it up for him but not for my colleague etc. i tried to point out that carboy had been nothing but gentlemanly thus far in our outings, and that he knows me better than that. workboy was doubtful. however, carboy picked me up, we went and had a drink but the band in the pub was distressingly loud (by loud read awful) so we drove around a bit in the fog then parked and sat and chatted. he was nothing but gentlemanly, though let me know that he was, literally, sitting on his hands to keep them from acting otherwise.

i love being right.

*yawn*

is it just me, or has this been the world's LONGEST week. like i'm sure that i've done enough work for two or three weeks,and yet it's only wednesday.

(i'm not calling it hump day 'cause of the recent, erm, scare - i may be put off for a bit.)

i'm tickled to report that there will be no young tnb/raspberry knock-offs running about the place. i must admit that i was getting a bit, shall we say, stressed. and i may have caught myself examining the circumference of my belly once or twice. or three times. or every twenty minutes in a self obsessed fashion that even the most narcissistic megalomaniac i know would be proud of.

work's been crazy and life has been kind of uneventful. i don't mind really hustling at the ol' place of employ as long as i'm blowing off the steam and the tension with some really hot dirty wild exhausting sex (which clearly isn't happening) or going out and dancing my bum off.

but i'm doing neither.

especially the sex.

goshfukkit.

somebody help a girl out?

i don't like mondays (tell me why)

i'm so sleepy.

i think i'm in the onepercent of people who react to reactine. i know that the name of the drug sort of implies that you would react to reactine, but, according to the innerweb, you aren't supposed to.

and if that *is* what's happening, i think it's a bit of a double edged blade - see, it's sucking the energy, the glow, the life out of me like some kind of sucking suck machine,it's making the skin at my hairline all dry and itchy. but it seems to have also make my period, my nemesis, the bane of my existence, disappear. or at least be ten days late.

mind you, i'm completely self diagnosing.

i could be pregnant.

with tnb's baby.

how freakin funny would that be?

it would be, as spo says, a corker.

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in other news, mr newly did NOT fall off the planet, as it may have appeared previously. *phew*. he's not, unfortunately, coming to visit for new year this year. he's opting for skiing in france over skiing in whistler. i imagine there are more females in france, as god knows there are only six in whistler.


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in other other news, i moved the waking up with sundae list to the sidebar, but feel free to comment in either the original post, or in whatever the most recent post is, and i'll addalong.

c'est formidable!

ok this is attempt two at this post. i'm no less enthusiastic, however.

ok so i had this fucking unbelievable idea.

ok so actually it was spo's idea, but i'm stealing it, dammit, 'cause he didn't exercise the idea to its fullest potential.

on his site he created a list of the top ten songs which get him out of bed in the morning. i think it'd be really cool to take that list and republish it here. yay wicked idea, raspberry. no wait, there's more.

i also want to list the songs added in the comments. and i want to add some songs of my own. and i want people to comment with the songs that get *them* going in the morning - those songs you play in the car when you are stuck in traffic when maybe you didn't get a lot of sleep, or maybe you aren't feeling that well, or maybe it's still technically yesterday 'cause you haven't been to bed but you have your performance review so can't call in sick, or maybe just want to stay in bed with the pets and a mug of tea and watch martha, or maybe that's just me.

then i want to create a playlist that makes some sort of sense with those songs. then i will burn it to a cd (not that we condone piracy here at the sundae salon). then i will send this cd to people who email (raspberry sundae at gmail dot com) me their addresses.

it might take me a bit though 'cause of the whirling dervish xmass frenzy of baking drinking shopping cocktail party that is my life (new coping strategy: alcohol plus busybusy = no thinkythinky) so you will have to be patient.

part the first: spo's list

1. Paul Simon – Me and Julio
   
2. Badly Drawn Boy - Once around the Block
   
3. Feist – Mushaboom
   
4. The Coral – In the Morning
   
5. Gorillaz - Feel Good Inc
   
6. Finlay Quaye – Sunday Shining
   
7. Kings of Convenience - I’d rather dance with you
   
8. Us3 - Cantaloop
   
9. Mr. Scruff - Get a move on
   
10. Billy Ocean – Get outta my dreams get into my car
    

part the second: the comments

1. coldplay - here comes the sun / beautiful world from emmy em
   
2. jack johnson - unnamed song from dbuc. sorry, dans, no cannibal corpse or napalm death. however, if i ever make an off to kill a postal worker compilation, i know who to call
   
3. the ramones - i wanna be sedated from mr. wolf
   
4. manic street preachers - girl who wanted to be a god from dan. how many fricking dans can there be?
   

part the third: sundae's pix

1. k-os - crabbukkit
   
2. ted leo and the pharmacists - little dawn or me & mia
   
3. lyrics born - pack up
   
4. clubfoot - kasabian
   
5. the stone roses - elephant stone
   
6. rage against the machine - bombtrack
   
7. the constantines - tank commander or nighttime / anytime (it's alright)
   
8. green day - basket case
   

ok i got a smidge carried away there. but go ahead. comment your picks if you haven't already, or even if you want to add more. i'll make executive editorial decisions (like pretending i didn't see bjork on the comment list), put together a decent collection and get the kiddo to give it a spiffy name.

how fun is that?

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edit - 9.24pm

i missed:

beastie boys: hey ladies

trix are for kids

hi, sorry, am depressed, feel uninspired uncreative unable to put my words down on the page.

business will resume as regularly scheduled imminently, i promise.

dec 6, 1989

Genevieve Bergeron- Nathalie Croteau - Anne-Marie Edward - Maryse Laganiere - Anne-Marie Lemay - Michele Richard - Annie Turcotte - Helene Colgan - Barbara Daigneault - Maud Haviernick - Maryse LeClair - Sonia Pelletier - Annie St-Arneault - Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz

drinking and looking and drinking and looking and drinking and looking

So I’m not even sure about what I want to write about. The fact that I didn’t go out on my date ‘cause he had to reschedule then promptly didn’t call all weekend? The fact that I pretty much just shopped with my mama and hid in my bedroom? The fact that I talked to tnb last night and at the end of the conversation nothing was clear, everything was confused, and I just wanted to cry?

Nah that’s all boring shit.

I have to go get my allergies tested again. My dr. thinks that the reason I’m so tired and sluggish and crap is ‘cause my allergies are changing and I’m getting some new ones. So I get to go get poked and prodded and go on my crazy diet where I lose tonnes of weight and all that good stuff.

Hopefully it’ll happen *after* Christmas and I can lose everything that I accumulate over the holiday season cause lordy lordy I *DO* accumulate. And how much would it suck to have to go on it *during* Christmas when everyone is having cocktails and appetizers and goodies? Though I guess if there’s any season where you can only eat turkey, Christmas is as good a time as any, huh?

Funny how I iprefaced this commentary in such a fashion as to mislead you into believing that it, somehow, would *not* be boring. Tricky bitch.

The Sister sent me, a few weeks ago, one of those inspirational emails about men picking fruit from the bottom of the tree, and how I’m apparently something that hangs out at the top of the tree. Tnb said to me last night that I deserve someone who’ll treat me well, that I deserve someone good and he’s bad he’s bad he’s bad.

It’s funny how the people you know always have such high opinions of you, but at the same time it can be seemingly impossible to get a date, or have a boy call you or talk to you or whatever.

It’s sad that, after spending the last few years eagerly anticipating my fulfilling fun filled future as a crazy cat lady I may actually be allergic to cats.

Now what will I do?

tis the season

from the desk of rick mercer

sweet you rock

so today i was out with the kiddo buying him a new tongue stud (he lost a bead. i don't ask, he doesn't tell) and i met a super hot piercer. of course the danger of dating a piercer would lie in him always wanting to pierce you. i mean, one or two would be good, in non-visible areas, but lets not kid - too many piercings is too many piercings.

of course, in karmic retribution for thinking lusty thoughts in the presence of my one and only beloved offspring, i promptly spilled half a cup of newly poured boiling hot green tea all over my breastesses.

i burned my left breast.

it feels like a really bad sunburn.

i'm not at all pleased.

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in other news, the kiddo has determined that he does not actually desire an ipod for christmas.no, he's instead come to the captitalist conclusion that he'd rather have a plethora of smaller gifts in place of one super cool large gifts. that's my little consumer, for you. therefore, i've picked him up the headphones pictured above. he's also getting a new snowboarding jacket, speakers & an amp for his computer, and some new cologne. or something. i dunno yet - now that i am not getting the ipod i actually have to put some thought into it.

stink.

the sister also poses a holiday shopping conundrum. she sort of just buys herself everything and anything she wants. what's a girl to do?

why shop for herself, of course. since thursday i've purchased two pairs of pants, a sweater, a tshirt, some new lip gloss, and two, countem two pairs of shoes. yay me.

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update sevenpm

clearly the whole tea incident was more serious than i had first suspected. in fact, i think i've died and gone to hell.

there are currently two different jennifer lopez movies on the television, it's saturday night, and i've got really nothing else to do.

i may be forced to watch the wedding planner.

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update eight20sixpm
someone googled "canada woman email addres that need man for long time relationship" and this journal came up. bless.

eight20nine
also "slutty undies".

a heart of stone a smoking gun

gentlemen take note. or ladies, as well, if are so inclined. we aren't in the business of discrimination here at the sundae sanitarium.

i have a fairly ascerbic sense of humour. which is to say, it can be edgy and not everyone gets it. you may or may not have noticed this during your sojourns amongst these pages. the best way in the world to gain my attention is to not only *get* my jokes, but be able to return them in kind.

now in order to *retain* my attention, you must be able to couple this sense of humour with sex appeal.

i know i know women all over the world will tell you what is most important to them is intelligence and a sense of humour.

and i'll agree, to an extent.

but when it comes right down to it, if you, as a man, want to take that crucial step from friend to lover. or, more accurately, want to avoid being delegated to the relationship purgagory which is "just a friend", you have to have the integral internal quality which will spur you over that... erm.. hump.

saying this is easy. defining the essential quality that allows such a paradigm shift is much more difficult. i know for me it is a combination of physical appearance, smell (yes smell), confidence and arrogance. humour is what gets you through the door, but it ain't gonna keep you there.

now what has inspired young raspberry to wax philosophic about the opposite sex this morning, you may be asking yourself. well, quite frankly, i've got a date. a date with someone whom i've seen briefly, but have mostly only conversed with from a distance – via the ehm ehss ehn, on the phone, that sort of thing. i know that the brain-attraction is there. it will be interesting to see if the physical attraction remains, or can sustain.