i bet you look good on the dancefloor

i'm tired of winter already, and it's barely begun. i want to wear little dresses and flipflops, not high heels and wool. to think that only a couple of weeks ago i was thinking to myself 'why won't the seasons *change* already'. can't please some people, huh?

from the books of 'classic raspberry moments': the other night i was eating spaghetti. i slurped a string. the end flipped up and hit me in the eye.

yes.

i poked myself.

in the eye.

with spaghetti.

i gotta tell you, spaghetti sauce in the eye is not one of the more pleasant things i've ever experienced. in fact, it's possibly up there as one of the least. don't recommend it at all.

only i could possibly require safety glasses for dinner.

a dead generator in a cloud of exhaust

ohhh i can barely open my eyes this morning. it's winter, yo - like cold and chilly and damp. how did this happen? where did summer go? how is it that i spent such little time at the beach? so few hours on patios sipping cocktails and watching the boys go by?

i could sit here with my head in my hands and fall asleep in about thirty seconds. i'm not kidding you. why am i so tired? no idea, actually. i think it's the fact that it's grey and nasty out, perhaps coupled with the messed up sleep patterns of the weekend. though i did get lots of sleep - not too much, i don't think, but just enough.

holy fuck this is a boring post. what could i do to possibly make it more dull? why tell you about my new crockpot and how excited i am to try it out, of course.

or not.

jeebus.

i did go treasure hunting at value village yesterday, and came out with a grey pencil skirt, a great turquoise angora wrap sweater, and a black bat-wing blouse. that was pretty exciting. well, for me anyway, cause i desperately need fall clothes and i am desperately low on cash. i forgot how simultaneously rewarding and frustrating it can be. oh i also got a cool new purse - babyphat for $3. i heart that. *and* i made super yummy chocolate chip oatmeal cookies....

how spoiled is my son, though? i called the kiddo at work yesterday. he put in his supper order (choices - baby potatoes, green beans & baked salmon; roast beef, pan roasted potatoes & green beans; samosas & rhubarb chutney). he made his selection (went with the beef, requested hotsauce on the meat & jamaica mistake salad dressing on the veggies) and i hand delivered it to him at work with a tall glass of milk. then, two hours later, i went over to deliver two straight from the oven cookies. he's the prince, for sure.

ok now that i've rendered my male audience comatose and completely destroyed my reputation, i'm going to get some work done...

you fighting me off like a fire does

yay for fridays... i need to be part of an organization that believes in flex days. i could do with every other friday off. or monday - i'm easy. (shut it)

the architect is taking me out for fancy dinner tonight - we are going to quattro on fourth avenue, primarily because it's more or less right across the street from his house. gotta take advantage of this, because all that is across the street from his new place is .. uh.. i think the cactus club. close to it, anyhoo. either way - not bad for a quickie meal (eat 'cause you're hungry and don't want to think about it) but really i try to avoid eating at places like earls & the cactus club. there are so many other great places in vancity - why would you settle for average? a first date with someone who suggests the cactus club or earls is probably the only date. is that an unreasonable criteria upon which to judge someone's character?

nah..

anyhoo dinner. yeah so i checked out the menu online to make sure there would be something i can eat, and sure enough there's quite a bit that looks promising. i think i'm going to step out of my usual salmon / arrabiatta pasta / salad italian restaurant rut and either go with the venison chop or (as a total departure) cornish game hen. i've never tried it, but i've always been fascinated. also, i checked the allergy type properties of it and it seems as though i should be ok.

for my birthday, my brother gave me a copy of insatiable, the autobiography of gael greene - a food critic slash author. one of the classic quotations (which sums my personality up swimmingly as well) is where she muses the two greatest inventions of the 20th century are the cuisanart and the clitoris. she's a bit of a hedonist, you see. reading about her adventures in food - travelling all across france in a veritable orgy of sex and food - makes me really wish i wasn't allergic to all the fun stuff, you know? i love food. i have no idea why i don't weigh a buhjillion pounds. i could cook and eat 24/7. le sigh.

eating and fucking. fucking and eating. the two are inextricably intertwined - a fact illustrated by the way people gain weight whenever they start a new relationship. well, actually, i've avoided it thus far (i checked the scale last night), but the architect claims to have put on 6lbs. i bake, you see. can't help myself.

ok must work now. forgot my breakfast so had to call the divine ms. u and ask her to pick me up a bagel when she makes her morning timmys stop. i may die in the meantime.

twist within this verbose mystery

ok so there is some very good advice / stuff to think about in the comments below. i shall ponder.

on an entirely different note, last night the architect and i went to the noodle box - a new noodle bar open on 4th avenue. all i can say is NUM. the space is open and modern - really clean lines, with exposed ductwork etc uptop. the lighting is subdued but bright enough that the atmosphere feels clean and crisp - you can see what you are eating and i like that.

i had cambodian jungle curry with tofu - hot & spicy and flavourful and fresh. the architect had malaysian lamb curry - medium spicy but oh so rich and served with crispy roti. just awesome taste and dinner for two for under $25. they don't have their liquor license yet - my only complaint, as the perfect accompaniment to the meal would have been an icy cold beer - but i will be back.

oh especially since suzanne, the manager, gave us a couple of coupons for free dishes.

what comes around goes around

(apologies in advance for the text-heavy post)

i'm a big believer in karma. i believe that, as you go through life dumping negativity into the shopping cart of personal interaction, sooner or later you are going to have to hit the checkout and sometimes sometimes when you hit the teller it's gonna be a little more expensive than you thought.

where's this drawn out poor excuse for a metaphor coming from? well clearly i'm still pissed about my sister. i did an upper arm strength yoga workout last night and so chilled a bit, but all things considered i'm irritated as fuck. a few months ago, i came to terms with the fact that i was going to build a life for myself here in vancouver. like - up until this point what i was doing was sort of an in-between thing. i didn't know where i was going, and didn't know what i wanted to do, but this thing here was only good for right now.

around june, i guess, something flipped in my head. i bought a raincoat (after four years in vancouver i finally bought a rainjacket). i started sorting through my stuff - stuff that's been gathering dust since i dumped it into storage. i started accepting the fact that maybe i should put down some roots and stop waiting for... whatever... to come along. this is it - this is life. grab happiness and run with it, no matter what form it takes.

why the change? no idea. maybe my meds really are working. maybe it was summer and i got lots of vitamin d. maybe it was just... time.

regardless - i started evaluating my relationships with my family. i started feeling like a bit of a second class citizen. the way my sister condescended to me all the time started to wear thin. the disparity in the way my folks treat my siblings and i started becoming obvious. so i started to check out.

i feel as though i've spent five (at least) years just accepting the treatment of others for fear of making them not like me. i've wanted so much to belong that it got to the point that my own hurt feelings or distress didn't matter anymore. and, what's more, in the midst of depression i wasn't entirely sure if it was just me - if i was making it all up in my head. now, though, i am fairly sure that it's not. the tone which my sister used with me yesterday was a perfect example. when i tried to talk to my mom about it later, she took the sister's side without even pausing to consider what i was saying.

at dinner last night i sat with my parents and wanted to say something. i wanted to say that i've been so insecure, that i've wanted so badly for people to just LIKE me, that i forgot what it meant to take care of myself - to like myself. now it feels as though i'm remembering. what i don't know is what the fallout will be - or if i even care anymore.

family tree is burning the rocket's waiting on the lawn

you know, i could not, at this point, get away from my family any fucking faster.

not my dad - he's kind of normal. which, in the grand scheme of things, is fucked up, considering.

my sister just ripped into me 'cause she wants me to have a serious talk with the kiddo about taking jujitsu seriously. i said to her that she can do it, cause her and her boyfriend have set this up. i got the laugh 'oh yeah i forgot - 'cause we are doing something nice for your son' scoff. this, of course, pissed me off. 'that's shit.' i responded. 'don't say crap like that. you and dave set this up - i'm not going to lecture the kiddo on your behalf'.

'oh i LOVE the new yelly you' she says condescendingly as she turns away.

you know, just 'cause i've started NOT backing down everytime someone disagrees with me all of a sudden i'm the problem child. i've spent five years being so insecure that i'd go along with anything just to make people like me. well guess what - i'm fucking not going to anymore and if you don't like it then you can all go to hell. don't fucking try to passive agressively guilt trip me into just going along with whatever it is you figure is right, without taking into consideration me, what i want, or how i feel. it's bullshit. i'm an independent human being and i deserve the consideration of my family and friends.

turn that shit up

i wonder if chad ever found the jalapeno i dropped down the back of his pants? anyone? anyone? bueller?

(that's me showing my age. it's a sad sad state of affairs when half of the people i encounter on a daily basis don't get that joke. le sigh.)

so the architect installed new brake pads for me yesterday. i can now officially stop anytime i want to. this is a good thing 'cause there were a few moments late last week when i was fairly sure i was just gonna keep on keepin' on, if you know what i'm saying. this newfound stopping power came in particularly handy this morning, as cfox has set up on the north end of the tunnel, so everyone is coming to a complete stop to gawk at the spectacle. what - you've never seen a guy with bedhead throwing subway breakfast sandwiches at passing motorists before? sheesh - get out of the suburbs, folks, and get a life. yawhn... simply passe, dahling.

so i now have 'everlong' as my ringtone. i'm fairly excited about this, since i've figured a way to get (cheep ass midi - damn bberry hi-tech lo-tech) ringtones with little fuss and less muss. this is a big deal 'cause my work pays for my crackbaby service and therefore i always have a certain amount of guilt using it for fun things like finding the address for the foggy dew so that i can go drink and other respectable activities as such.

PS - i made the architect vegan cinammon pancakes for breakfast yesterday. i rock.

one week since you looked at me

ok so last night i took the architect to the blogger meetup. he spent the first fifteen minutes we were there trying to not laugh at how nervous i was.

WORLDS COLLIDING, JERRY - WORLDS COLLIDING!

it's all good though. we were sitting in the smoking room chatting with my girlfriend and his response to whether or not he's curious about this blog was more or less a great summary of his character - it's my space and he figures i should get to have it to myself.

ps. i have a hot girlfriend.

i didn't take my camera 'cause it was stop one of three for us and i didn't want to have to worry about losing it at stops two or three, so you'll have to rely on others....though if anyone out there has a photo or two that's not too hideous, please email my way thankeeeee xoxo

daft punk is playing at my house

i have big hair for some reason today. i don't really get it - nothing was done differently (well yesterday i slept in so just pinned it in twists while wet (the hair not me) and ran out the door so it's different from that, i guess) but today? no idea.

i've been at work already for almost 45 min 'cause i'm leaving early today. the architect is doing a mb ride up in the whizz so i'm tagging along for kicks and giggles.

heh wow. just had an energy crash full on... it's almost like taking a downer and having it hit you all at once. sort of cool feeling, really, except that i have to be here for another seven hours or so. yeesh. damn my work ethic which makes me come in early when i want to actually leave early... most of the rest of the people i work with just take off. not to mention the fact that i was here for at least an extra hour yesterday.. oh well. not like it isn't rewarded eventually.

ok so i'm bringing the architect to burquitlam for chad's blogger meetup on saturday. this is a little scary to me - like SERIOUS worlds colliding. he knows that i have this thing, but is not so interested in reading it or knowing where it is - he figures it'd be too much like reading my diary. and, of course, he's right. i worry that in a round about way some of his friends may find it, but i guess as long as they respect the fact that he doesn't *want* to know what's here, then we're all good right? riiiiighhhttttt.....

in other news....

i have no idea what i'm going to do about mikeb. i think he's really going to let this woman ruin our friendship. he spent the entire weekend shooting down absolutely everything i said, hasn't answered the two texts i have sent him since we got back, and in all honesty doesn't seem too interested in being my friend anymore. i told him long ago that for me to accept her (someone who's fucked with his head the ENTIRE time i've known him) is akin to me asking him to accept me spending time with crazy jeremy. he, of course, doesn't agree. but in a sense i'm being proven right even as we speak - one of jeremy's favourite tactics was to alienate the women in his life from their friends and support networks. he was such a good manipulator that he could turn any small comment into an 'us against them' scenario. do i know that is what she's doing? no. it just sure seems like it. i've tried really hard to NOT let my feelings about the relationship colour our interaction. but this is hard when he tells my sister and my boss that they are totally back together and it's creating tension between us, before i even *knew* they were back together. if there's tension, he's been generating it, up to this point. now, though, i'm throwing up my hands in frustration.

the other theory that's been posed by some of my guy friends is that he's kinda jealous of the architect. he's never really known me to to be really happy in a relationship and, now that i am, he doesn't quite know how to deal with it. ahh i don't know about this one - i'm not, in any way, jealous of his relationships with women, so why would he be jealous of mine?

mostly i think i'm just going to sit back and let him figure shit out. if he does, wicked. if he doesn't, well, i guess that's the choice he's making. it doesn't have to be a 'her or me' situation - he just seems to want to turn it into one.

which makes me sad, a little.

nothing for a week then three in a row

it's like multiple orgasms - raspberry flavoured ones of course.

No one came up with a better idea than me, which is shocking.

So, Foggy Dew on Sat, no later than 8 pm... Trust me on that one. I'll be
there at 6 pm.

Friday.

Got a spot picked out in the coat check to sleep over.

If you happen to have a blog (haha, nerd) please start letting people know about this through it.

Chad

you know you wanna.

also

nicest thing that has happened since friday morning:

me to architect, face buried in shoulder: "i like waking up with you"
him to me: "yup it's pretty awesome"

the last of the long weekends

i'm so fucking lazy right now and i hate everything. i've got that suspicious jealous me against the world mentality where i'm convinced that everyone is out to get me and i can't trust anyone. family is cold and standoffish; friends are decidedly disinterested and wish they were elsewhere when in my company; architect is.. well i'm not sure.

the one who is far away is trying to convince me that he is who he says but all signs point to otherwise - a little border town where you can order biscuits and gravy and if they have the stuff to make biscuits and gravy well then dammit you can have biscuits and gravy otherwise you are shit out of luck.

my head's all hunter s. i'm off my meds and had kind of a crappy weekend and i don't know if it really was all my fault or if it's just that the people i'm 'friends and family' with are so used to me being easy going and taking whatever shit they lay out that the minute i stand up for myself they accuse me of ruining everything for everyone and how dare i actually resist what they have to say.

oh fuck look she's growing a backbone.

i'm so fucking lazy right now and i hate everything. i want to run through the aisles destroying shit smashing smashing crushing everyone and everything that comes between me and self immolation. someone put me out of my misery 'cause the slow cooker suicide i've embarked upon ain't coming fast enough.

you think you know a lot about my kinda woman

stinkin spo. if he weren't so cute and have such interesting threesome stories, i'd probably be way more irritated that he tagged me to play this game.

eight things you don't know about me

1. last thursday was the first morning i've ever woke up and got ready for work at someone else's house. this morning was the second.
   
2. when i was six, a boy was teasing me on the jungle gym so i shoved him and he fell off and broke his arm.
   
3. i have a tiny little scar on the bottom of my belly button from where i had my tubes tied.
   
4. about four years ago, i tried to eat one of those faux-steak vegetarian meat replacement things. it was so foul i vomitted, and can - to this day - feel the texture of it in my mouth. it still makes me want to gag.
   
5. every month i have a little panic that i might be pregnant - even when i'm not late - although this is 99.99999% impossible.
   
6. when i am sad i sleep curled up with a small blue teddybear. her name is beebee (blue bear).
   
7. i am secretly afraid that i am a very bad cook and that everyone i know is just humouring me by eating what i prepare.
   
8. when i was in grade six a girl in my class pretended to perform fellatio (using a ruler) on the singer from def leppard. i was convinced, for about four months, that the male penis was actually about that big, and was terrified of the thought of losing my virginity. clearly i've over come that.
   

i tag foxxy, ben, jen, b, sass, and K-Lo (you can just use comments...)

oh and pretty please let me know if/when you put them up so i can see!

here the drummer get wicked

so the architect gets back from his trip tonight. i have to pick him up at the airport and relinquish his car. what do you think my chances are of convincing him to swap me his A4 for my green piece o'shit mobile?

heh. yeah i didn't think so.

dammit. i've gotten used to cruising around in style. that thing corners like nobodies business. rawwrrrrrrr.

anyhoo - i got nothin'. it was all hot & sticky (and not in the good way) last night when i was trying to sleep, so i just couldn't drift off to save my life. ergo, i totally slept in and had to rush rush rush to get here this morning. thank god the car has wings.

shh don't tell him i said that.

regardless, my brain is fuzzy and my eye is all red and puffy in allergesque ugliness. that said, since posting my last entry, and reading ridley's comment, i've been thinking. ergo, i have questions for you.

1) what city do you live in?
2) do you live *in* the city or in a suburb?
3) population?
4) what is your favourite thing about your city?
5) least favourite?
6) favourite place to eat?
7) favourite place to go out? (entertainment venue)
8) favourite thing to do with visitors from other places?
9) anything else notably good or bad or just distinctive about the place you live?

a song for many seasons, i got so many reasons

ok so i have recently discovered the music of dj champion. plebian name aside, the cd (chill 'em all) kinda kicks some ass. the radio single 'no heaven' is wicked fun driving music, the rest of the disc vaccilates between groovy downtempo and jazzy upbeats, and it makes my little pink heart pit-a-pat.

this is a good thing.

so yesterday was the kiddo's birthday, and it coincided with my brother's last day living on the west coast. my mama cooked a huge dinner, and we had ice cream cake (for the kiddo) and i baked a vegan chocolate cake for me. a vegan chocolate cake with chocolate, raspberry and kalhua frosting. yum. i had to restrain myself from licking the bowl clean -soooo good.

i had been exchanging text messages with the architect all day. after dinner i sent him a quick one describing the chocolatey goodness which was the cake, and saying i'd save him a piece (tupperwared, in the freezer for freshness even as we speak), and that i had a fun new cd (the aforementioned championship dj). he responded saying that he was looking forward to 'cake n music n my hottie'. le sigh.

ok i'll stop making you vomit now.

in other news....

matt good is in the process of saying goodbye to vancouver. in the process, he has written a fairly scathing, yet charactaristically astute, assessment of vancouver as a city. as an outsider, here, i have regularly observed (and reflected upon, here) the emptiness of the interactions you have with this place, as a city. it is difficult to develop and maintain relationships with people who are from this place - the majority of my friends are from elsewhere. actually, i cannot think of anyone that i regularly spend time with who is actually *from* vancouver. moreover, i find that the city itself has developed a protective shellac - shiny on the surface but nearly impervious to any kind of penetration. it has become one of those vacuous, well groomed, gucci-toting new money socialites that preen and pose on every street corner. last thursday we were up in whistler for a mb race. the architect and i joined his sister and her boyfriend at the afterparty. now whistler is an interesting society, itself. you have a crazy cross section of society - the very rich walk the streets alongside minimum wage ski bums living four people to a bedroom in order to be able to afford to take on the mountain all season long. this event was no different. whistler is small enough, still, that if you belong to a club, you belong to the same club as everyone in whistler - there is no socioeconomic breakdown to its groups. i felt right at home because it reminded me of participating in events with the running and track clubs in prince george - the *entire* community participates, not just a portion of it.

living in vancouver is like going to highschool again. the geeks can't hang with the cool kids. the theatre geeks avoid the jocks. the burnouts hide behind the gym, and the cheerleaders stalk the hallways as though they own them.

i love the amenities of the big city - i love the concerts, the plays, the restaurants, the shopping. i hate the sterile exclusivity that seems to go along with it, here. i'm just not shallow enough, i guess, to be happy with paying that price.

forever feels like home

i have that new stonesour song stuck in my head: i'm looking at you through the glass don't know how much time has passed all i know is that it feels like forever and no-one ever told me that forever feels like home sitting all alone inside your head cause i'm looking at you through the glass....

simplistic, i know, but i think what really appeals to me is the child-like round robin way that the lyrics are structured. i'm always impressed when people are able to convey complex emotions in just a few words. i always seem to yammer onandon.

not that you would have noticed.

ahem.

anyhoo.

now i have a tendency to date men who don't usually think about me much beyond the head of their penises. er, that doesn't seem right. penii? what is the correct plural of penis? ah fuck it.

i have a tendency to date men who don't usually think about me much beyond the head of their dicks. so this whole spending time with someone who respects me, cares about my well being, and actually thinks about me when i'm not around is quite novel - a little alarming on occasion (that's my committment phobic panicked side speaking) but really really wonderful feeling the rest of the time. like how he text'd me in between flights yesterday, and as soon as he arrived 'cause he knows that i worry 'bout stuff. and how, when the airline forgot to charge him oversized fees for his bike, his reaction was more money to buy presents for me..

it's cool 'cause that's how i think - that's the way i am when i'm with someone i like. it's fun to have someone else think that way too, but about me for a change, you know?

when the city lights, fading

hi!
it's 5.45.
i've been at work for half an hour already.
yes indeed, that IS 5.45AM. my eyes feel like someone took steel wool to them and proceeded to scrub vigorously.

i'm feeling contemplative, yet not awake enough to verbalize what i'm thinking and feeling. i drove the architect to the airport this morning (he's going to the US to do a mountain bike race). halfway there i caught him watching me, smiling slightly. "what?" i asked. "nothin'. just lookin'." with which he smiled wider and turned his eyes to the road. (good frickin' thing, too. considering it was 4.30AM there were a LOT of cars out. and cops. why in gods name are cops busting people for speeding at 4.30AM? leave us alone! we're tired and we want to be asleep)

ahem.

anyhoo.

i do actually have a tonne of work to do, so it may be good that i'm here so early. this way i can take off a little earlier, beat the rush, and get to bed at a decent hour. though i did wake up this morning convinced it was friday. le sigh.

i'm getting fat. the architect insists on feeding me. and he buys me chocolate for presents. and he stops for gelato any time i mention it. for gods' sake ONE of us needs to get some self restraint and i think we can all be assured that i'm NOT the best candidate for that particular position...


**edit**
i'm gonna hit 50K today. i think that's neeto.

you musta been so high

fyi - i missed tool last night. this makes me a sad sundae.
also - the architect is going away for the weekend. i was invited, but my boss (delightful as she is) would have had kittens if i asked for more time off, i'm sure.

though perhaps that isn't a bad thing, seeing as how every time you masturbate god kills a kitten.

vengeful bastard.

hang on - coffee.

i stayed at the architect's place last night. he tends to keep me up late and i have to get up earlier when i'm there, so i 'm a little sleepy this morning. plus he's training for a huge bike race that he's doing down in the states on the weekend, which involves carbo loading, so he was feeding me pasta at like 10pm last night. my pooooooor waistline. (yes, yes i know. he wasn't twisting my arm, but really, come on now, who can say no to that spicy tomatoey, peppery goodness? not i said the fly...) tomorrow will be worse as i am running him to the airport and he needs to be there by 4.45 or something sick. all i can say is that i'm glad some indiginous people somewhere invented the glory and goodness which is coffee.

anyhoooo i've taken on some fun (well for me anyway) new responsibilities here at work - i'm trying to get some more operations management skills, cause that's the part of things i am really enjoying - and so i'd better get crackin'.

xo

drive like an asshole day

seriously - did i miss a memo or something? everywhere i look people are cutting folks off, weaving in and out of traffic, laying on the horn (ok that was me, but that mo-fo almost KILLED me i swear!). dude decided to go as far as he could up a lane that was ending, then fully cut over without slowing down. cut into the lane i was in. cut into the lane not *in front* of me (as i was over 3/4 of the way up his car when he decided to accomplish this manouever), but essentially force me to slam on my brakes, swerve to the right and get the fuck out of his way so he could continue as though i'd never even been there.

fucker.

anyhoo... i dl'd the new kasabian album last night. i've listened to about half. the jury's still out, so far. first song kicks bum, but then there's a couple in a row where i'm thinking 'who ARE you? the arctic monkeys redux?'

i'll let you know....

a polyphonic prostitute, the motor's on fire

ok so i'm trying to come up with some witty way to sum up the last week or so. sadly, i'm having a bad food life and it's harshing my mellow.

ergo, i'm going to steal from peechie.

• approx. km driven: 1520
  
• approx. km driven by me: 0
  
• mountain ranges visited: 4 (coast, monashee, purcell, selkirk)
  
• illegal drugs taken: lots
  
• presription drugs taken: none (ironically enough, i decided to take a drug vacation. god i rock.)
  
• hours of sleep missed: most of 'em. god bless shambhala.
  
• gelato flavours eaten: 4 (strawberry, blood orange, raspberry, double chocolate)
  
• kick ass desserts prepared: 1 (bbq peaches with maple mascerated strawberries, organic vanilla ice cream, and a vanilla-balsamic reduction)
  
• fun b-day gifts received: lots (chapters gcs; neat bikini line exfoliater; 4gig ipod nano; fun pottery; girl guide cookies (the fun minty ones); flowers; more stuff i can't think of at the moment...)
  
• meals vomitted: about 57%
  
• naked hippies gawked at: innumerable
  
• level of delight experienced upon realizing that supernatural is back on tuesdays: we're talking everest scale, here, kids....

dear bloggity

ok so it's kind of scary how easy it is for you to ignore me. you haven't called, haven't written. we've only spent a very short while together this week and all i get from you is... well, fuckinell, nothing. not a thing. i'm a little hurt, i'll admit it.

also, i have a serious case of the 'guilties' for neglecting you, sweet bloggity. i know, i know, my absence this week is a poor excuse. i just haven't been around too much. after shambhala i was pretty much home one night then threw myself back into holidaying... did the birthday festivities, then sort of just hung out, went to movies, sat at the beach, and went to whistler for a few days. my pets are neglected, too, little blog, and i have officially killed my jasmine plant - it's toast, dunzo, deceased, officially gone towards the light, this time. i don't think that even with my magic fingers i will be able to bring it back to life this time.

now by bringing this up i'm not trying to do anything stupid, like break up with you, or start you thinking about breaking up with me. all i'm trying to do is say that maybe, just maybe, we need to stop taking each other for granted a little. we need to start appreciating each other - we both know how important we are to each other.

ps - i would feel more guilty, but i just went to visit tony's blog and it told me that the blogfather, tony pierce himself, has not made sweet blog love to it since thursday.

pps - i took a picture for you, little blog. ok it's actually for the person who reads this sometimes - he wanted to see what i looked like at that *exact* moment, so i took the picture. but i'm sharing it with you, ok?

can't talk now with a mouth full of love

hey motherfuckers it's my birthday.
tonight i go to rime. 7.30 pm. if you want to come, call them and add yourself to the reservation for 15. i'm cool with it. it's under my real name though so you may want to check with me previous to it.

the architect is on a mad quest across vancouver trying to find me a vegan chocolate birthday cake. how sweet is he? (whoops he doesn't want to be sweet. he said guys like to be rough and edgy. my bad.)

i have a bunch of pictures, but blogger is sucking the icy tit and not letting me upload them. i'll have to go the buzznet route later, but right now i'm drinking coffee and being lazy and i don't feel like it.

it's my birthday and i'll tell blogger to fuck right off if i want to.

so there.

j-mo, you are a lazy ass. what's up with the no post?
i want more details from spo, by the way...

other than that, i'll leave the judging up to you. go for it kids, who wins the blogger royale?

more importantly, what's on the menu for ME today?

The Return of Don Ciavarro

I smell like ass.

Thousands of empty beer cans are masking the true nature of my odour.

So, compared to them, I smell like John Gotti.

The Don is back.

Don Ciavarro.

He's come to make you an offer you can't refuse.

...

Someone. Clean my fucking house.

Scrub my balls for Christ sake.

Two balls for the two bit hack I am. I am not sing song. I am barely literate.

I take bad photos that make my writing look decent.

I am terrible at blogging.

But.

I'm awesome at being me.

Plus I have a shiny car.



It's all I have to give.

Someone needs to start a fire right here

Holy fuck spo, I don't even know where to begin to even try to top that. Even the bolded red sentences were top notch. The only way to top that is start with a truthful story about the time I got high in Amsterdam and then somehow involve ninjas in it, and maybe something to do with the red-light district. Prosty-ninjas. Ok let's begin:

This is about my third night in Amsterdam and I haven't gotten high yet and I'm becoming really pissed off because the person I chose to go with was not interested in "doing fun things."Like come the fuck on. When you go to Paris, do you not go to the Eiffel Tower? When you go to Italy, do you not go see the Leaning Power of Pisa? We're in Amsterdam, so why are we not getting high?! But my luck was changing because my hippy roommates were on thier way too, and I know what they wanted.

So I said to Tammy my boring travelmate (she wanted to see the fucking HEMP museum, the Hemp museum for fuck sakes), "ok listen, I have to see my roomies for at least one night, go do something else ok?"
"OK!"
Awesome, so I met them at the Dam square where there was a carnival, I was a little late and half way to apologizing when I saw them just staring at the carnival with huge smiles on thier faces. My lateness did not affect thier mood whatsoever. "Soooo..",I begin "what are we gonna do?" and I hoped it wasn't to get some waffles and find the nearest museum.
"Let's go get high" Danny said and Carole nodded. I could not have been happier. In my mind I was like "fucking FINALLY!" So we headed to a Coffee shop close to one of the many bridges in the middle of Amsterdam. Went inside, there was three other people in there, one guy outside reading and relaxing with a medium size toke. And two people who were just leaving. Danny then ordered the round.
Rolled it up perfectly,
Made it correctly,
Lit it correctly,
and passed it around with the class of a gentleman.
Some people can solve complex mathematical equations. Danny can roll up the perfect joint. Anyways, it didn't take long to hit me and the sensation I felt was nothing the pot that I ever got in Canada gave me. I don't know if it might've been laced with something, (I doubt it, because I'm sure these coffee shops have some sort of laws against it or something...hey it's a business too ok?), but everything in my peripheral vision started to bump to the bass of the reggae playing. , and then we started playing cards for a bit, I have no idea what we played but I know I won a couple of rounds. And the shit just kept going and going and going. I looked around and I saw the dude who was outside with the toke, completely passed out, ready to die on the table. The dude from the coffee shop had to get him up and at em, and out of here. Bad for business. He was mumbling something like "I know how it is, you guys come to Amsterdam and can't take it." So we had to look right then, we had to take it. So we had to get the fuck out of there, that we did.

We walked to some streets here and there, really just moving. We arrived somehow back to the Dam square, before I saw a waffle stand and I got some of the best things I have ever tasted in the world. I don't know what it was, but it was delicious. Then had a blissful 15 mins staring at the lights in the carnival.

Danny and Carole left back to thier hotel, and I was going back to my hostel. But I was still in a state of high and I was just smiling and staring at everything in sight. My hostel was across from the red light district, so I had to cross it. That wasn't such a good idea, because in my state, red lights and half naked women(?) didn't work out well. So I had a lot of pimps shouting at me, "Hey AMERICAAAN" or "SHE LOOKS GOOD NO?" or "ONLY 100 EUROS!" and I'm sure one of them was damn close to making a deal with me while I was walking away because he creeped me out. Dude, I was this close to being stuck with I'm sure an ugly ass Dutch prostitute. This was also 3am, and I was being approached by other non licensed prostitutes too. And I'm not sure they were women.

So I curled up in a little ball in the middle of the bridge and prayed for the night to be over, that's when a friendly Ninja named Goju said "You're lost, you need help" and I nodded. So he shot one of those things to scale buildings and took me with him. He figured out where my hostel was and led me to my room where he then took off his mask and he was actually a SHE. And SHE was actually fucking hot! (Holy Metroid!) My mouth gaped, and then she said "I have been watching you from afar, I have been waiting for a chance to be with you"
"Are we about to get it on?" I asked
"We already have" and then left through the window. I never saw her again.

The lesson is the same that the guy from the coffeeshop said when I left it, "Enjoy, have fun, and don't get too hiiiiiiigh"

Night on earth.....

Hi there - during her abscence Raspberry kindly invited posts from myself and fellow saints J-mo, Ridley and Ciavarro to keep her amused upon retrun - coming up with a theme that will allow the others to follow - well I'm first up it seems and here to tell the tale of a night on earth not easy to forget - sorry it's long, but the night was eventful and once you get writing sometimes it's hard to stop, right?:

“Tonight we show you one side of Moscow and then tomorrow Andrey will join you again but this time with his girl-friend and they will show you another side of Moscow”

.

Ok, so you guys show me around tonight then tomorrow I sense there is a change of pace and I act all respectable - what are we going to do?

.

Well maybe tomorrow you will do some things that when you go back to your people you can say that you educated yourself about Russian Artistic history, sampled it’s fine dining, visited it’s many places of cultural and political importance and then that you went to the Opera and how it was so very great and so very moving – people will think that you have really taken many good memories from this city.

.

Sounds like a plan – how about tonight?
.
Tonight well…. tonight you will see – but one thing I can assure you – there will be vodka

.

Flat out fucking fantastic Vladi – say “Do'svidaniya” to our souls – and get well and truly motherless

.

Motherless?

.

Yeah – so badly behaved, you could be no mothers son.

.

I’m a T taster by trade and I travel a lot with the work I do – I’ve been lucky and privileged enough to end up in all manner of strange corners of the globe from Peshawar in Pakistan to Vinh city in Vietnam – sampled the delights of Dubai and drank the all night juice of Jakarta – but one place that always stands out is Moscow – Those Russians…. Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi….. Those Russians…..

.

The main things I initially remember noticing about the city where the wide open roads like airport runways, the expansive grey concrete buildings mixed with the colourful outlandish architecture of red square, the evening obsession with hanging fairy lights from everything, the unintelligible alphabet on all the signs and bare assed monkey nut cold weather – however these where not the lasting impressions Moscow sent me away with – no, the memories where much warmer – if a little hazy.....

.

That evening would be my first big night out in the city - there where four of us – myself, Vladi – (bout 35ish meek and quietly spoken most of the time but a sharp mind, keen eye and always looking on the humorous side of life) Andrey, (bout 28ish, determined, ambitious, snowboarding brother from another mother who would die for his friends) and a feisty Chief Chirpa looking fellow named Mikhail who seemed to have an insatiable appetite for all that isn’t Holy upon this earth.

.

I’m not a religious man – but I’ll bet Mikhail is on his way to hell one day – and he’ll probably enjoy it too – as long as there is vodka - which I imagine there is.

.

The evening started with drinks (vodka) before a visit to a Georgian Restaurant called Pepo – this was like something straight out of Tolkein – seemingly built into a cave with huge wooden beams criss-crossing above these catacomb like enclaves that made up the dining area – you ducked your head as you made your way around – most of the light came from the flaming torches on the walls as waitresses in traditional Georgian dress served up meat, meat and more meat – all carved off huge skewers at your table.

.

Cossack dancers span around in the background and they had a band singing traditional Georgian and Russian songs – emotive and boisterous and sung at full volume – the diners join in – especially when they sing something from someone’s home town – as they did for Andrey – boy sang his god damn heart out – standing on his chair, foot on the table, vodka in hand – tears in his eyes – fanfuckingtastic – Georgians really give it some kick when it comes to representing their village after a skin full of vodka.

.

The Vodka – looked like Smirnoff Black from memory – could have been something much more potent – custom is to take a shot and toast the group every five minutes or so – broken up with bread and meat to soak it up – with the overload of senses due to all the singing, eating, flames and fine female forms, you don’t notice how quick four of you can get through a bottle – Vladi was taking half shots as well “after all – I am driving” – by the end of the meal i don't know how many had been dispensed with, two or three (Mikhail had really jumped things up a notch), but I do know that I was singing loud and proud along with everyone else – surprising how easy it is to start speaking Russian when you are three sheets to the wind and well on the way to being well and truly shit faced.

.

The singing continued as we crammed into Vladi's battered old Nissan and drove to our next destination – round and round the roundabout we went – Vladi was enjoying the singing too much – I was involved as much as anyone – slap your thigh and sound like you are singing backwards at the top of your voice – no problem.

.

Next stop Russian Massage Parlour.

.

And more vodka.

.

We bundled out of the Vladi-mobile and waited in the side street – we seemed to be off the beaten track somewhere, but then again most of Moscow appeared that way to me – very much off the beaten track - Andrey got a nod from a window above and we scurried in out of the cold and up several flights of stairs – the door was opened by a beautiful woman wearing a red satin negligee who beckoned us to follow her through to a small kitchen – I’m thinking definitely not a traditional massage parlour – more like an apartment – more like a…. the penny dropped – and then more similarly scantily clad girls appeared – and then more vodka.
.
The kitchen was rammed with women, drink, song and our debaucherised selves – I was still the right side of ruined but could definitely start to feel myself slipping – a much dirtier version of Sophie Dahl was finely balanced on one knee and we were stumbling through a broken-English-wasted-getting-to-know-you kind of conversation – the statico purr to her voice had my attention and her hands were wandering – I needed to get my game back quickly so decided to try and dodge a few of the vodka toasts that were continuously being raised.

.

Mikhail was boisterous by this point – he had been the fastest drinker, the loudest singer and the most voracious eater of the evening so far and he suddenly announced to me that his time was short so he was “going to go fock and then be leaving to my wife” – pure Borat – and with that he was off into the backrooms with one of the ladies in silk.
.
Things moved to the lounge and then to the bedrooms and jacuzzi’s – I was heading off with the dirty Dahl double but was then joined by another blonde named Eva – I looked over at Vladi who knowingly smiled in approval and raised a toast – that man deserves a motherfucking monument I thought to myself as Eva pulled me into the room, closed the door and delivered a line that really sticks in the memory when spoken with a Russian accent “we will now strip your clothes – prepare yourself” - I left the room an hour and half later feeling pretty damn fine about all there was in the world – a permanent Cheshire-cat-on-coke grin etched across my face for the rest of the evening.

.

An Ewok down due to Mikhail having long absconded, we bundled back in the Vladi-mobile and headed for a casino – after Eva and her friend had said their long goodbyes I was a bit lost for words, but Andrey was still full of life and buzzing – Vladi, as ever, had everything together and was seemingly still as sharp as a shark-tooth – which he needed to be as a problem in the form of the local police suddenly conspired to hinder our journey – Vladi dutifully pulled over – as you do when instructed by someone in uniform carrying a gun – and our exuberance ceased.
.
It was a lot like watching a silent movie as Andrey and I peered through the windscreen - the headlights illuminated the falling snow and the meeting between Vladi and the policeman up front – at first the cop seemed to be explaining reasons, Vladi’s open handed gestures along with a smiling face followed, then the same from the policeman who seemed to be saying nothing while at the same time saying something - Vladi then returned to the passenger side, leaned in to fiddle with the glove box looking for documents, took something from his wallet and returned to hand them over to the uniformed obstacle to the rest of the evenings debauchery – there seemed to be a more light hearted conversation taking place as the doc’s where passed – then there were smiles and a slap on the back from the cop handing Vladi back his documents – Vladi waved him off and returned to us smiling.
.
“No problem – we continue - with wallet a little lighter” he said as he put the Nissan back in drive – “Bribery – Russian style” added Andrey and the evening once again also kicked back into gear.
.
The Casino was a fairly grand affair, as much as I could compare – I’ve never seen Vegas and my experience is limited – but there seemed to be enough well dressed folk surrounded by lights, noise and money to suggest that this was a serious set up – funnily enough I don’t think we really mixed too well with the patrons as we had obviously mixed too well with the vodka - after severely holding up a game of blackjack due to my lack of understanding of both Russian and the rules, I was swiftly lifted of a fair few roubles on the roulette wheel – "Roubles on Red! Shit!" gambling in such circumstances was obviously not working out - we were soon looking for the entrance to the in-house nightclub.

The bouncers took one look at myself and Andrey and decided that entry was simply not going to happen – Vladi didn’t protest too much as I think he kind of agreed with them – Andrey took it badly – as only a drunk man can – the whole world falls apart with one refused entrance – he soon brightened up when Vladi offered an alternative destination “Spearmint Rhino’s is still open…..”

I think it was either 4 or 5am, the night not yet over and all I could think was “Moscow – is there a better night out on this planet?”

got a machinehead (it's better than the rest)

ok kids so here we go.

i'm getting set to spend a total of 18 hours in a car and three days in a tent with someone i don't know that well. sure we get along. sure we affectionately call each other things like freak (him to me), pervert (me to him), hoser (him to me), retard (me to him - he reminds me that it's semi-retard). ah can you feel the love, tonight?

i guess if we can make it there we can make it anywhere, huh?

what to do, what to do. the far away person is having issues with the nearby person. he feels powerless and this is making him jealous. i point out that the distance *is* an issue - whether we want it to be or not. i would not be good with long distance, 'cause the powerless-ness thing would make me crazy. he asks what the architect has that he doesn't. the only answer to that is location, location, location.

well, and the fact that i've got no idea what it would be like to spend a big amount of time in the faraway boy's actual presence. could you do it? could you throw caution to the wind and gamble on a change so big, so earth shattering that, if you did it, nothing would ever be the same again? and keep in mind that this is coming from me - the girl who went camping to the far end of vancouver island for a first date.

the thought of it scares the shit out of me - could i let it all go and just slip into the currents? could you?

this is a throwdown, a showdown

yo this jam is amplified so just glide
and let your backbone slide.

ok so this weekend i'm going to that crazy drug fueled pit of sweet seductive sin known as shambhala. i'm leaving sometime thursday night, and most likely won't be back till monday. that is, of course, if the architect and i can stomach three days in a tent with each other. our first roadtrip. how sweet. heh. let's see,shall we? so what's a girl to do with her blog while she's away? sure j-mo has graciously volunteered to guest blog, and ridley can be counted on to weigh in, but let's see what kind of trouble we can get up to, shall we?

i think so.

here it goes kids. as of 11.59pm PST on thursday, august 10, it is ON.
this is an intercontinental international challenge - spo, malibu j-mo, ridley, and representing the west coast (wess coss mutha humpa) chad ciavarro. the first man to sign in picks the subject. no kiddie porn, no dead bodies (mine or otherwise) and no manatee mating (this means you, chad).

let's see what you got.

any ladies looking to log into this all star blogger weekend? sign up here. you know the drill.

it's gonna get sticky....

bad blogger

fuckinell i just haven't been here since saturday morning. it's not my fault.
i meant to post friday night - really i did, but i fell asleep at nine.30 and didn't wake up till nineam the next day and had to rush out to meet mikeb & the architect for brunch.

yes, i introduced the architect to mikeb.

we haven't had a debriefing, though, so i've no idea what he thought. it seemed to go well - they had stuff in common, and got to talk about me in front of me, which seemed to delight them both.

bastards.

we're going on a roadtrip to shambhala for my bday celebration. yes, i realize that my bday isn't until next tuesday (that'd be a week from tomorrow - seven shopping days, kids), but this will be my party. 'cause heck, why not party with six thousand other people if you get the chance, i figure....

the kiddo is up in peegee for a couple of more weeks.. i haven't actually heard from him barely at all. he called friday night when i was unconcious, and i've text'd him a couple of times, but that's it. le sigh.

ok i've had two glasses of wine and i'm starting to fall asleep. i need to make lists of stuff to bring with me next weekend (thursday night!)...

also - who wants to guest blog? ridley? j-mo? up for another round? anyone else?

open to falling from grace

i like the word opensure. my little brother - he's a smart one, that guy.

i have a dilemma. it involves someone who lives a long long way away - someone who i wish i were closer to, or he were closer to me. he reads this, sometimes. he knows who he is, and he knows what i'm thinking about. i don't want to talk about it too much 'cause then i start to overthink and sometimes just letting things be is the best way to go through life. why stress about something that you can't change, right?

le sigh.

i miss the kiddo.

history unfolds for you.. just shut your eyes

did you know that they opened a new cupcakes place up on broadway? how happy am i? now i don't need to go all the way into the bowels of the west end for a fix.

i introduced the architect to the glory that is cupcakes last night - we'd walked past on our way to the birthday dinner the other evening, but by the time we were on our way back it had already closed. last night i instigated a special trip before we went to watch fireworks. i, of course, had the 'diva', though i was sorely tempted by both the versace (marble cake with chocolate icing and a chocolate button) and the blueberry one.

as we were walking back to his flat i ran into one of TNB's good friends. it was a little awkward, but whatevs. it occurred to me after that i told him to say hello to his old roommate, but forgot to inquire after TNB's health. whoopsies. ah well. as we say in the business, who cares? oh that's not true - i hope he's doing well and that he's gotten over the whole wife cheating on him divorce thing.

i need some sleep tonight. well that's not to say i didn't get sleep last night - i had like 5.5, maybe six hours. i crawled into bed with the architect after the fireworks, closed my eyes, and didn't wake up 'til the alarm went off at 5am. i just need to get to bed really early and sleep straight through till tomorrow morning. i've been almost falling asleep every time i start driving in the last couple of days, and that's not a good thing. it's funny how your brain works though - how you can catch yourself thinking 'just for a minute. what's it going to hurt?'...

ah well - guess i should do some work....

make a mess and fuck all the rest

per wikipedia: "the decompositional perspective towards meaning holds that the meaning of words can be analyzed by defining meaning atoms or primitives, which establish a language of thought."

which is, i realize, some deep thinkin' for first thing on a tuesday morning.

i do, of course, have a point.

last night i went into town to have dinner with the architect and some of his friends. while at the table, his best friend leaned across and inquired "has he asked you to stop seeing other people yet?" to which i said 'no, i sort of did that on my own'. my major issue with the way people do internet dating is that if you were to meet someone at a club, or a party, or wherever, and you were interested in seeing them, you wouldn't be actively pursuing a multitude of other people at the same time. or at least i wouldn't.

so i figured that once we'd gone out four times (and keep in mind that date four was pretty much spending an entire weekend together) i'd just stop *looking* for anyone else. the architect and i were talking about this as we walked home, and i said something about us 'seeing' each other. he corrected me and said we were 'dating'.

to me, 'dating' is something you do when you are interested in seeing more than one person. when you are 'seeing' someone, you are only with them, but would not necessarily consider yourself in a full blown 'relationship'.

so, of course, i puzzled over his phrasing the rest of the way to his house. once we got upstairs, and he had fed me some dark chocolate with raspberries in it, i questioned him on his semantics. i explained my personal definitions, and said that, to me, dating was being with more than one person - sexually or otherwise. he replied that, until he moved here, his definitions were like mine. it's only since he moved here that he's rethought them, as it seems like women in vancouver think the opposite way from me. he said he wasn't interested in seeing other people - just me.

which, of course, i liked.

then, to prove his point, he spread a towel out on the floor and turned me into jello with quite possibly the best massage i've had in years. this, of course, i liked even better.

so, question of the day - what are the levels you pass through when you are 'with' someone? for me it's meeting, dating, seeing, relationship, end (via death of one of the two people or death of the relationship, whichever comes first). am i missing anything? do you have more/less/different stages?

welcome to planet sexor

uhhhh my brain is still kinda like cabbage...
?
and with that insightful introduction i bring you.... raspberry sundae. shit.
and here you were hoping for my usual wit and wonder.... surprise!

ok weekend update - friday was a madcap rusharound packing of the upstairs office and moving everything downstairs. i had a mild hissy fit as certain people chose to sit around chatting instead of helping with the shitty file moving but whatever - these things shouldn't surprise me anymore, now should they? mm let's see.. drove the bosslady home, hit the banque, picked up sushi for the kiddo, tried on every piece of clothing in my closet, got back in the car and rush rush rushed to the architect's house. pass a roaring wildfire on granville street (american hippies infiltrating the city, burning raping and pillaging as they sack vancouver), fly up macdonald, park right out front, in the front door breathe.....

out the door in his car stop for beer drive aimlessly till we find the house of the boyfriend of his friend 'she's a little aggressive. if she pisses you off tell her to fuck off or tell me and i will' 'i think i'll be ok' she's lovely we held hands and danced but wait wait screeeech to a halt i went to jr high with her boyfriend and how weird is THAT. second house people drinking cake to be eaten ms u shows up dressed to kill. i drop a pill we swap shoes she can't do heels and dance all night hit the club. mstrkrft.

more drinks more drugs kissing in the dark feels so good show winds up hit the gorg dancing till dawn driving home via new west crawling into my bed pull the shades dog snoring on the floor lie there and twitch don't really sleep wake up kissing drink coffee drive to his house haven't eaten in 24 hours brain dead.

kissing fucking biting licking fall asleep under the fan no blankets wake up walk in the sun buy groceries get lost in the wine store bbq with candles on the sundeck pull out the hideabed movie in the dark crawl into bed mmm holding him in my mouth fall asleep wrapped up in his arms my head his chest.

8am alarm wait don't go morning is my favourite. he leaves i shower back in the car wander the drive brunch back to his place lie on the floor don't really watch the movie climb on top 'you really aren't fucking around this time are you?' 'actually that's exactly what i'm doing' fall asleep again naked bodies stuck together wake up eat ice cream kiss walks me to my car 'i had a really fun weekend, thank you' he says kisses me more slaps my ass drive home.

fin.

he doesn't look a thing like jesus but he talks like a gentleman

i love it when perfectly normal looking people turn out to be freaky - when they tell you that they like to be bitten too, in fact it gets them really hard; when you grab a big handful of their ass fingernails and all and they gasp and shudder with pleasure.

i kinda didn't expect last night to go the way it did.. was supposed to be dinner and dessert and wine and fireworks on the roof, in more-or-less that order. instead it went dinner, wine, fireworks, fireworks, dessert, fireworks.

of course two of those batches of fireworks were of the non-pyrotechnic variety, if you get my drift. no less incendiary, just not particularly for public consumption.

well, of course, with the exception of the poor person who opened the door to the rooftop deck without making noise sufficient enough to warn anyone that it was going to happen.

sheesh.

the nerve.

in other news... i'm about to have my house to myself for like the first time in four years... the kiddo is off to k-town and the folks won't be upstairs 'cause they are going to see my brother. it's kind of a weird prospect. i feel as though i should be throwing a kegger or something. alas.. i don't like most of the highschool kids in ladner so i'll pass this time. instead i'll probably just have the architect over on saturday night to get drunk on the beach in tssawwassen.

the kiddo is actually leaving next week to spend the bulk of august with his dad, so i'll be childless for like three weeks or something. i always feel really weird when he's not around - sort of lost. it's funny 'cause we can go for a few days without seeing each other fairly regularly, but it's different when i can't peek in on my way to work in the morning and see him and the dog stretched out on the bed, or when i don't see the evidence of midnight munchie runs or or or..

well, you know what i mean.

xo

it's like a little prayer

i was wasting time at work this afternoon when my (real life) little brother told me of a near miss he'd had this morning..

[13:52] raspberry's brother: oh, hey, i almost got run over by a nun today
[13:53] raspberry: WAT?
[13:53] raspberry's brother: i was walking across the street, in the crosswalk... the nun was in a car that was stopped, and so I crossed, and then she started going
[13:53] raspberry's brother: so i had to step back to avoid the rapture
[13:53] raspberry: LOL
[13:53] raspberry: she's recruiting
[13:53] raspberry's brother: she did not see me until she was right beside me
[13:53] raspberry's brother: i guess!
[13:53] raspberry: why should the jehovahs witnesses get all the fun?
[13:54] raspberry's brother: well, if they had told me that we were allowed to run people over, i might have not stopped going to mass
[13:54] raspberry: no shit, huh?
[13:54] raspberry: like you get points for how many people you take out?
[13:54] raspberry: i wonder if there are more points for sinners or less
[13:54] raspberry: like is it a sliding scale?
[13:54] raspberry's brother: must be! maybe that's what the points for driver's licenses are for
[13:55] raspberry's brother: well i would think we'd get extra points for taking out Protestants
[13:55] raspberry: well tithing is 10% of your income...
[13:55] raspberry: yeah you'd think
[13:55] raspberry: or those darned mormons
[13:55] raspberry's brother: and the gentle ba'hai!
[13:55] raspberry: omg the kaballlah
[13:56] raspberry: madonna i'm comin for you
[13:56] raspberry: can you imagine?
[13:56] raspberry: i'd be bumpin jesus from the right hand throne for SURE


oh wow i'm going to hell....

a rose on my birthday deathbed

day two of going commando under a skirt at work and i gotta say when it's thirty degrees outside and you come in from lunch, turn on the fan under your desk and oh-so-subtly spread your knees.... it's kinda orgasmic.

the general psychological malaise and crankiness i was feeling before my vacation has more or less returned. i'm not sure what to do about it. frontal lobotomy, perhaps?

another thing - does anyone remember the tv show 'boston commons'? i had a dream that i was getting married to anthony clark (or boyd, for former fans like myself) in mexico, and that he wanted to have the ceremony on the beach. i was strongly against this because i was unsure of how easy it would be for the photographer to photoshop all of the naked boobies out of the wedding pictures. this was of particular concern to me because my grandmother had made the trip down for the festivities, and she'd been sunbathing topless since her arrival.

you know.. 'cause that might happen.

you get me closer to god

he rolled over and opened his eyes, letting them run over my body, sprawled out on top of the blankets, bikini bottoms still on, arm thrown across my eyes in defense against the morning sunshine. the memory of his teeth marked my body - he touched it with his finger, his tongue.

'that's how you tell it was a good night' he said as he squeezed my nipple, rolled over and went back to sleep.

dirty dancefloors and dreams of naughtiness

i officially have a crush on j-mo. i can't help it. you know how i'm a sucker for the dirty boys... and one who can actually write?

damn.

i'm a goner, let's not kid. now i just have to convince him to come to vancouver and play with me tour the city. you know, see the sights, hang at the cambie and watch ciavarro reel in the manatees, stuff like that. good times.

so i got picked up at 6.45 tuesday morning (half an hour late, but hell it's vacation. cheeeelll wihnstahn...) i was with one person from that point almost continuously until nearly elevenpm last night. i thought i was doing well not not kill him *or* myself, cause, you see, there was no sex. nope, none. as i indicated earlier, this person was just... not my type. i need the chemical flashbang of attraction - physical *and* intellectual. from the neck down he was kinda hot... he just wasn't to my taste from the neck up. combined with the absence of intellectual attraction and it all adds up to pyjamas and a solo sleeping bag, no matter how much beer / wine / baileys i had for the evening.

it was a damn good thing i went to visit punkrockboy on the first day of my vay-kay, 'cause sucker was *dry*. the most action i got was the cute waitress at the italian place who was hardcore flirting with me as soon as ... shit i need a name... joe niceguy left the table for any possible reason. so anyway, it was a near miss with the no murder thing, 'cause at least if you are hot for someone physically, you can jump them every time they open their mouth. (see, i'm a FUN vacation buddy). when you *aren't* sleeping with them, you have to make polite conversation.

i'm being catty. he is a genuinely *nice* guy. and he did step up to go on a holiday with someone he's never met before - that takes some balls and i respect that. we just didn't connect. however, if you are in the market for a nice guy who will go out of his way to make sure you are completely comfortable and enjoying yourself (like to the point of running 1.5KM in each direction to bring the last two beer down to the beach yesterday for a final toast) let me know and i will send him your way with a great recommendation.

i'm slowly putting photos up on the buzznet...take a looky-loo if you so desire.. it really is a beautiful chunk of the world. tell you what, j-mo - if you come here before it gets cold i'll take you *there*. deal?

there are roads left in both of our shoes

ok so i'm back and alive, but my liver hurts and i'm sort of the colour of a christmas pointsetta - red on the outside with some white bits in the middle. i'll have some beach pictures later, but i didn't get home till almost 11 last night and was covered in sand and ocean from wave jumping and lying on a (mostly deserted, by the way) beach in the sunshine.

did i mention that my liver hurts?

so i noticed this week that i have little patience for people who are a little thick - like people who sometimes just don't get it, you know? i spent two point five days with one of those people and by the end of that time period i was rubbing my wrists vertical wise against the edge of the car door hoping to surreptiously open a vein.

which isn't to say he wasn't a nice person - au contraire. he was very nice.

just very ... thick.

s'all good - home now, sunburned, cocktails in my future (oh *this* is what coffee tastes like without baileys. i had forgotten...), gonna hang with the kiddo and try and stay out of the sun for a little while.... ok maybe not the sun thing. let's not kid - i'm a sunchild leo cat who stretches in the heat with a sigh of contentment, letting the rays ripple off her body. it's all good. i just need to reapply sunscreen reapply after seawater exfoliation....

missed you xo


ps thanks j-mo for the fun post...

Substitue Blogging

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Danke Schoen, Auf Wiedersehn, Danke Schoen

ok one last post before i wander off to either certain doom (picture raspberry hitch hiking down the island highway, tent in one hand, cooler full of beer in the other) or certain fun (picture raspberry staggering towards the beach, sunscreen in one hand, half-full bottle of red wine in the other).

however, do not fret, my friends, i am leaving you in the capable hands of ridley.

he doesn't know this yet, but i figure he'll find out soon enough.

or j-mo, if he wants to write dirty. hang on, i'll send the invite... annnnnd done.

hm. this could get interesting.

bye kids! don't fight with your sister and be good to grandma while i'm gone.

xo

and just because..

celebrating the freedom of speech, read possibly the funniest post ever written (thanks spo), as well as the reason ridley ain't gettin married anytime soon.

ah this shit (heh) kills me.....

lotta love a lotta luggage for a lotta reasons

so i've been, of late, a little lax in reading through my blogroll - not for any particular reason other than the fact that it's been way sunny out and i've been busybusy and stressed out beyond comprehension.

so anyway, today i was flipping through the list when i came across this post by the hot librarian. you know, i'm ...

i'm not even sure what i want to say at this point. the post itself is interesting to me because i, too, hit puberty at a very young age. i remember what it was like to be in PE class and get hassled by the other girls because i had breasts when they didn't - and the thin tshirt fabric of training bras does *nothing* to shield you from chilly gymnasium air, if you get my draft. i mean drift. *ahem*.

as well, i know what it is like to be called a slut for.. well every reason imaginable - whether i deserve it or not. but whatever - we've btdt in this blog (discussed my slut-dom or lack thereof, i mean) and i don't want to dwell on that particular topic again.

what i really wanted to point out was a blog thread which branched off of thl's original post. fatwalker says "The Hot Librarian is in need of prayer. Less anger and profanity. I suggest Heartcall: The Call to Prayer.365 daily devotionals from women that will encourage, teach, and unite women to pray evangelistically for lost women". fans of the hot librarian immediately rose to her defense - she is an articulate, interesting, and downright funny writer - but for me the larger issue is not thl's slut-dom or purity, but rather the implication that only 'morally right' (in both senses of the word) people should be librarians or, to broaden the spectrum, teachers.

i have some major issues with this. shocking, i know.

first of all let me quote my own comment to fatwalker: "libraries should not be 'wholesome' because that term is very exclusive - which is to say that it excludes all texts determined by the overall power structure to be *not* wholesome. in setting up this oppositional structure, we risk censoring (yes censoring) the artistic voice and the individual right to freedom of expression. how many books, which we now consider great works of literature, were once banned because they were considered 'not wholesome'?" the nazis burned books which they thought to be unwholesome. indeed, every civilization governed by extremest voices (including the united states) has attempted to silence any voice which it determined a threat to its own dogmatism.

who decides what piece of art, what text, is fit or unfit for public consumption? in 1999, a highschool in savannah, georgia that required its seniors obtain parental permission to read hamlet, macbeth and king lear. on the other hand, the canadian government has fairly strict anti-hate laws set in place to protect its subjects from vitriolic propaganda such as holocaust denial, white power literature, and other hatemongering trash. but can we make that distiction? does freedom of speech not apply unilaterally? how can we say 'my friends and i can say what we want but, since your opinions, or lifestyle, or skincolour, differs from ours - you cannot'?

where do we draw the line? can we trust our governments to keep libraries secular? or, does religion belong in the libraries and schools, in the seeming absence of a larger societal morality? at what point is the governing body protecting its citizens, and at what point are they engaging in censorship?

further reading:

• banned books online
• book burning - a true christian tradition
• targeted authors of the nazi book burnings
• kidspeak - sticking up for freedom of speech for children

take a picture of something you see

so i've been a music downloading machine the past few days - like i cannot even begin to describe how the sheer joy being visited upon my by the piracy. that damn johnny depp and his wiley ways....

as long as i don't start *running* like that, i will be ok with the bad influence, that's all i gotta say.

so two weekends - two movies and the two could not be further from each other than... green eggs and ham.

so a brief comparison of disney's 'dead man's chest' and art linklater's 'a scanner darkly'

1) dead man - based on a disneyland ride; scanner - based on a philip k dick novel.
2) dead man - stars johnny depp, a dynamic actor pretending to be a cartoon; scanner - stars keanu reeves, a wooden actor rendered dynamic by being turned into a cartoon.
3) dead man - live action film that acts like a cartoon; scanner - cartoon that acts like a live action film
4) uh yeah that's all i've got.


comparing these two films is like comparing ... well, apples and oranges to utilize a cliche. i really enjoyed both - despite the negative reviews, i thought dead man's chest delivered exactly what it promises - a rolicking swashbuckling good time. no plot? what were you expecting from a disney movie based on a THEME PARK RIDE for fuck's sake. scanner, though, is possibly the best filmic interpretation of another medium that i have seen since... well possibly ever. i asked the kiddo, as we were getting up to leave the theatre, what he thought. he said, in kind of a shaky voice, 'i don't know yet. i have to process'. when we got out to the parking lot, i asked him again. 'it blew my mind.', he stated simply, and i had to concur.

when i got home i chatted on msn to a friend who had also just seen it. we were both kind of shellshocked. it's a GREAT film. go see it.


ps - if you are into hiphop at all, find a copy of dj format - fabriclive. great GREAT set.

xo

relax don't do it (when you want to)

oh this vay-kay is off to a fine start. after waking up completely randy, chatting on the 'puter, downloading some wicked tunes (i highly recommend the herbaliser - fabriclive), i went downtown to have lunch with mr.pessimist and went on a hunt for thai food...and then... oh then my friends, i went to the westbeach sample sale and spent like a madwoman. i got the kiddo a great snowboarding jacket and a hoodie for $45, picked myself up a couple of hoodies for $15 each, got the sister a skirt and a tshirt (both for $15)... oh and a rainjacket for me for like $20. craziness, i tell you. craziness.

then, oh and then my friends, i responded to one of punkrockboy's text messages and headed over to his place for a visit. sometimes having a booty call is a very good thing. and, because i'm sweet, i even gave him a ride to work. of course he repaid me by commandeering my leftover red curry.

oh and giving me a couple of orgasms.

that's fair, i figure....

sweet mother of god - finally!

ok so i'm on vacation. true to form i was awake before 7am chatting with j-mo and surfing the internet.

sadly, i did check my work email first thing. i have to stop that. cut myself off.

i am feeling... erm.... how can we say this delicately... fucking horny this morning. like it's one of those mornings that i wish i could roll over and climb on top of someone and just ride away until i was sated. sadly, it's just me and my auxiliary closet space here on the bed, and i'm not that in love with my clothing yet.

yet. give me an hour or two. that sundress is sass-syy man. damn.


so on tuesday i'm going on what is quite possibly either the a) coolest first date ever, or b) stupidiest first date ever. i'm going over to tofino to camp for two days and take a surfing lesson. like, if this works out it's going to be awesome. if it doesn't work out it will be two grueling expensive days of awkwardness and boredom. sure it's a bit of a gamble, but damn - first of all, i'm super excited to be going away at *all* on my holiday, 'cause i didn't really want to go alone, and second of all, anyone who is willing to spontaneously go camping with someone they barely know is cool, 'cause that, clearly, is something i'd do.

so yeah, i'm excited. am i crazy? oh yeah possibly. but i'm a *cute* crazy person....

broken telephone the lines are down i throw myself at nothing

melancholy madness
i'm digging through my past
dusting off the memories, emotions
trapped between the pages of
long forgotten novels and
candles wrapped in newsprint.
why do i keep this the detritus of a life
i forgot how to live.
who am i here in this place where i lack
connections in this time when i have only
songs that
other people wrote
to remind me of myself.

someday you'll wake up and say my god i should've

i don't know if i'm just really worn out, if i've got nuclear pms or if my meds aren't working anymore. i do know that i feel as though i'm rushing down the river past people and experiences - i'm reaching out towards them, trying to hold on, but they're slipping through my fingers like quicksilver rapids.

the sister heard from cruiseship boy today. he quit his job with cruiseship a to do the same job for cruiseship b. he really liked me but stopped emailing 'cause he was freaked out by distance / lives / all that bullshit. nothing new there.

also talked to carlot boy just a little while ago. he told me he had to stop himself from spending time with me 'cause he really liked me and work always got in the way. he said he kept in touch 'cause he kept hoping i'd push him over the edge. i professed skepticism at this statment - if it was going to happen it would have happened by now, i said. he said, no, i'm different. you'll figure me out someday.

i feel like the record is skipping playing the same six notes over and over again.

our lives on holiday

so i went into my boss' office on friday, looked her in the eye and told her i needed a vacation. i can't wait till august - i'm tired, i've been running on fumes emotionally and physically, and i'm on the verge of burning out.

more specifically, i'm finding it really hard to care about my job right now. because i'm the kind of employee that i am, she knows that i'd never say such a thing to her if it weren't 100% true, so i'm working monday-thursday next week then am off for a week. i don't think i'm going to do anything - i just need the time off.

not to mention the fact that i helped mikeb move today. the chaos of the experience (and this was a smoothly run one with lots of help and good spirits) has doubly inspired me to go through my belongings and do away with anything superfluous.

i, my friends, own a lot of crap.

i've been living on my own more or less since i was sixteen years old. i did jettison a great deal of it when i moved down here, but i still have reams and reams and piles of *stuff*.

especially books.

and clothes.

le sigh.

oh here's a blast from the past.... r- has been trying to hook up with me in the ... erm ... biblical sense all weekend. this only happens when he's either a) broken up with his gf; b) not getting along with his gf; or c) away from his gf for a few days. i declined the opportunity. yay me....

i don't know if you're looking for romance, or

so i think that the only really *bad* experience i've had with this whole online dating experiment is the stalker guy - you know, the one i was mentioning who was texting me all the time, and telling me he missed me, and crap like that. i basically turned him into an interesting anecdote - my lava horror story, if you will - and promptly forgot about him beyond that.

yesterday, out of the blue, he resurfaced. i received an email which read, simply, 'oh and by the way, you are full of shit.'

now i've not been in the *best* of moods these past few days, and something in me snapped upon reading this. i basically laid into him, saying that if he thought he wanted the truth from me then fine - here it is, and i laid out for him how he reeked of desperation, and that his 'i miss you' neediness was pathetic. i told him to grow some balls.

this, of course, isn't the smartest thing to do when one is dealing with the mentally unstable.

he responded back with a bagload of vitriol - basically calling into question my morals and my abilities in the bedroom (ha!). i told him he had a small dick, and that he was crazy. he started foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body began flopping about as though he was channelling the psychic energy of a semi-putrid mackeral (ok i don't know what he did just there - i made that up). i asked him why he couldn't deal with the fact that i just wasn't interested. i said we'd gotten drunk and made out, and i regretted it. i told him that i'd tried to muster up some interest and couldn't, and that we were both adults so he should just deal.

he responded very cryptically: "fucking freak. see you at the village tonight".

what the fuck?

what does THAT mean?

i don't know if i should be looking over my shoulder every time i leave the house, or if he mistakenly emailed me at the very beginning when he was *actually* stalking and tormenting yet another unsuspecting female.

either way - i deleted my online profiles. it's left a bad taste in my mouth.