that disease comes with a hot chick and a puppy

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

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

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

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

le sigh.

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


* i'm clearly saying this tongue in cheek.

dang

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

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

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

le sigh.

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

yeah so?

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

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

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

just.

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

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

no don't.

xo

stairs

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

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

young dumb don't see a problem

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

i'm such a joy to bring to parties.

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

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

i've been drunk since i left

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

been drinking since half past noon

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

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

heh.

today is the greatest

dude i'm getting married today...

workin on a mystery

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

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

heh.

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

hence the bloggity, i suppose.

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

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

i wonder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

running down a dream

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

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

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

gonna wash that man

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

dude, i forgot.

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

plus, she was a girl.

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

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

politics of dancing

not that this furthers my 'lose weight' cause in any way, shape or form, but i went out drinking (again) last night.

well specifically, we went out and had a burger for dinner, and then went to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. oh my god how i laughed. i mean i *heart* marshall in himym - to see him starring in something that he's written, something that is so infused with his character (wipes single tear)... just great.

warning - there is a lot of male full frontal nudity. marshall's no slouch in this area, so the ladies in the room were happy with this situation. there was, however, a lot of uncomfortable shifting from the hetero men in the group.

after the movie we went to the bar around the corner from the theatre for drinks and late night snacks (also not good for the waist). man i just need to stop drinking for the next week - if i can stop drinking i'll stop late night snacking and it will be all good. plus, no booze baby.

ok like that's going to happen.

i seriously do need to cut back on the drinking, though. i need to make a conscious effort to say 'no' to opening the second bottle of wine every evening, unless it's a special occasion. that's right - we've been downing 2 bottles every night, pretty much since we moved down here. i said it before and i imagine i'll say it again: i have no idea how californians aren't all raging alcoholics. we simply couldn't afford it in canada.

something else besides a silvery part

dude i feel like i'm getting fat. like when i went to try on dresses (non-specific dresses! really! i promise! no occasion impending (like doom) at all!) this week i was all bloaty from booze and monthly and mexican food so i was gi*NOR*mous. that's kind of all fading and i've actually *lost* weight since moving but i feel as though it's all going pear shaped.

so i've been making a concerted effort to get out walking - on friday we were out for 3.5 hours down at torrey pines climbing the bluffs and walking on the beach. yesterday (in the midst of errands) i walked 4.5miles. and today, i walked up and down a hill.

but not just *any* hill - it's the hill on texas street. the hill that's well known as an angry bitch among sd cyclists and runners. i made myself a fun little mix, put on my shortyshorts and set out to conquer that bitch.

oh and i did it, my friends, i did it and got back to the house just in time to yak up my breakfast.

tomorrow, if i can walk, i will be sure to eat *after* i get home.

heh.

grease is the word

just as long as the word is not wedding (or so I've been told)...... welll heck it's not my fault - i'm deeply obsessed, at the moment, and can't see much beyond the flowers and dress alterations.

so saturday night my long lost sister and went down to the aero bar on india street - that's the spot that i discovered the joys of sunday night drinking. they were throwing some kind of party for people who use yelp. yelp's nothing in canada (though it should be) but it's huge down here - kind of like myspace but with a function. check it out yourselfs.

i was drunk when i got there - like we'd (and let's not kid it was mostly me) drank two bottles of wine before leaving the house - so when we arrived and they started handing out whiskey shots who'm I to say no? so of course as it is when i get this way, flirty raspberry comes out to play and i'm all huggy and stuff and i'm not sure my friend has ever seen me this way... but whatevs it's all good and then all of a sudden i'm *too* drunk to be there anymore.

so of course we step outside and pay the pizza delivery guy $20 to take us home. why settle for a taxi ride when you can risk life and limb being delivered in 30minutes or less? fucking hell now i know why sometimes when you get your 'za the toppings have all travelled over to one side of the pie. i seriously didn't think i was going to make it home - and really i would have taken death as long as i didn't yak the contents of my belly all over the back of that pizza soiled chariot to hell.

i don't know why you say goodbye i say

Oh.
hello, blog.

it's been a fun filled week of visitor and wedding pree-paration. yes just one visitor but heck - she's worth a few at a time.

which is to say that i am hungover, but i have a wedding dress. the original plan of having a friend make it sort of went to the wayside - the timeline is just too short to go ahead with something like that.

soooo when out shopping yesterday we wandered into BCBG and found a marylin monroe style halter dress in sort of a cream colour. i'm very excited... it needs to be altered a tad but that's easy enough to do. and now... onto shoe shopping!

excess ain't rebellion

i'm trying to keep this wedding thing under control - i really am. this week i have a dress fitting, a cake discussion meeting, and apparently need to send out *real* invitations to the first wedding even though only wanted to do an announcement combined with an invitation to the reception. hmph.

so the architect and i were stranged in hermosa beach this weekend. as people keep saying - there are *definately* worse places to be stranded, but once you've checked out of your hotel room and have to keep schlepping around becoming slowly more and more sunburnt, you eventually just want to go home.

especially when you find yourself eating canned-filling apple pie and drinking cut-rate tea in a denny's by the service shop because your feet hurt and you just want to sit down and have really really stooped this far it's true *sob*.

ahem.

anyhoo.

so yeah we were kind of worried about le chat 'cause we've never left him alone overnight before. he was, of course, fine and barely noticed our absence, i'm sure. i'm still exhausted 'cause it was kind of emotionally draining and because i walked about a billion miles yesterday (no seriously - a billion) and just don't want to get out of bed. le sigh - I suppose that I should, though, because i need to track down a notebook or something so that i can start keeping track of the stuff i need to keep track of... grrr.

it's a good thing that i was once a project manager because i'm sure not naturally organized.

work and love will make a man out of you

who knew this frickin' wedding business was so much work? i thought we'd find a place, get a reservation at a restaurant, i'd buy a dress and hey-presto! we're hitched let's get LOADED!

apparently not, though. first off, did you know that for your flowers, you can't actually just pick flowers that you like, they also have to be IN SEASON? i thought you could just walk into a florists shop and pretty much buy anything at any time. isn't that why they have greenhouses, these days?

i think part of the problem is that i signed up for this website called 'the knot' and it has these huge checklists of stuff to do, along with a timeline for when they need to be done. right off the bat i had over 150 items overdue - it doesn't take into account the fact that this isn't a wedding wedding. however, as soon as i saw all of those exclamation points i started to get stressed oooooot.

oh there's a new city & colour album - it's really good.

blogging romania

i just watched anthony bourdain eat a pig snout in a crazy victorian-themed restaurant somewhere in romania.

keep in mind that i do this only for maktaaq. she hasn't got cable, you see, and so i told her i'd take this one for the team.

heh.

i'll talk tomorrow about a paper plate with a ground meat kebab (who knew romanian food was so middle eastern) and a pickle. until then, think about how drunk i got last night with my new sunday night cohorts, and how much pasta i ate.

i will be fat in moments, if not seconds - hold tight and watch me bloat.

xo

lazy sundae wake up in the late... well morning but still

oh i'm sorry for the absentee blogger syndrome. what can i say? i'm a terrible hostess. even worse, i have very little time for you this morning - i'm off to give a tour to a bride and groom of the wedding i'm coordinating the week after my own.

heh that's so weird to say. it's kind of like all of a sudden i'm in this club. a club with buhjillions of members, 'tis true, but a club nonetheless.

yesterday was the architect's bday, so we went out and grabbed some dinner with his old friend from motorcycle racing, then headed over to the aero for drinks. oh and more drinks. and more drinks. i played the 'wander away from the cocktail' game so that i was in better shape than most, but the architect was kit-n-kaboodled. his coffee is sitting on the bedside table beside him, but he just kind of opened one eye and groaned. poor guy has to go to some meetings today... it's cool 'cause through the magic of the innerweb i've managed to meet some cool people here. yay for starting to make friends!


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

i heard the other day that the lightbulb factory let go of a bunch more people - a couple of whom i considered friends - and that makes me sad, but at the same time so happy to not be there anymore.

wrasslin

dude let me tell you now - ric flair is alive and well and still fighting in the WWE. i know this because last night i was there. i probably don't strike you as the type who'd be into that sort of thing, and heck, let's not kid i don't strike *myself* as that sort, but we were given tickets so we went.

i was deaf for 2 hours after the pyrotechnics.

my overall response was sort of bewilderment - it's such a huge production and people are *so* into it. just not my cup of tea, i guess. there used to be a blog regular here who was deep into it. i wish he were still around so i could talk to him but there you are.

the crowd was hugely predominantly mexican - i'll admit that my knowledge of mexican wrasslin stems entirely from nacho libre but i think it's fairly big in that culture.

i was also stricken by how *theatrical* it is - every action and movement is so exaggerated: the players are communicating with the crowd with every gesture; their characters are clearly defined and they play to their roles and to the crowds reactions.

it was kind of neat.

and here is a picture of my cat for no reason at all.

times are achanging

big news in the world today... what with fidel stepping down and george w talking about bringing democracy to cuba and smog* does that mean he's thinking his 'legacy' will be a deomcratic cuba perhaps the 56th state of the union or maybe just a district or whatever it is that they call puerto rico.

oh and also tenbucks is discontinuing their breakfast sammiches (no loss, according to the sister: "too eggy", she reports) and is bringing in refillable coffees and $1 short coffees, at least in their homebase seattle wa.

you know the economy is in the shitter when starbucks starts lowering prices. fortunately the architect is in restaurant design, and restaurants are generally the one market that doesn't suffer when the economy is bad. clearly people are cutting back on the $6 lattes, though. i'm half expecting to see a tim hortons popping up on every block here in SD - their coffee is like crack, yo.

in other worlds, i'm trying to find an outside locale to have my wedding, and a place to host the wedding dinner.

also - all my american friends (and goshfukkit my canadian ones too) should check out rick mercer's rant from the feb 5th show for a remarkably astute discussion of the difference between canadian and american electoral processes. oh and then watch the 'dude' one, just for fun.

oh and i'm homesick in a big way today.





* see previous post for definition.

bottle in front of me (vs a frontal lobotomy, though the differences are not readily apparent)

smog* i did a little drinking last night.... one of the bookclub cohorts rounded up a few people for some presidents day libations at a local dive bar yesterday. the architect dropped me off**, we did scotch flights set up by the bartender, who is a local favourite, and then headed off to a super cheep, super delicious italian joint for pasta and pizza family style (though i had my own pasta 'cause of the whole food allergy thing).

other than that, our weekend was fun and sort of non-eventful. we had a delayed valentines dinner at a local mexican joint (that has the most GINOURMOUS tequila menu, by the way), ate brunch out, did the farmers market, oh and I made hummus with my new food processor (yay for valentines gifts!)

oh and we also scoped out a couple of wedding-type locations. heh. wedding locations.... so surreal.


* sweet mother of god
** a funny conversation occurred on the way down. we'd been discussing (previously) how important it is for couples to have separate interests & activities. it's shaping up that his will be cycling (he's getting back into roadbikes) and mine will be... you guessed it... drinking. amen sister friend.

new topic!

happy valentine's day come on people, now, smile on your brother everybody! get together, try to love one another not later, but right now! (paraphrasing nirvana paraphrasing the indigo girls. no seriously - the indigo girls)

no spring rolls for you!

ok for a country that has suffered so much in the name of 'purity of race' Israel's recent actions to reduce the number of asian cooks seems a little bit like .. i dunno... hubris to me. and a tad ironic, doncha think? they have already dropped the number of permits available to asian or foreign born chefs by 400, and they are seeking to eliminate them altogether, saying that israelis could be trained to do the work.

of course they can. heck - anyone who's read anything about modern kitchens in the US knows that 7/10 chefs in the top french, italian, chinese, whathaveyou restaurants across the country are mexican. just last night on anthony bourdain your fearless leader watched her hero dining on sushi crafted by someone from puebla.

that, however, is not the point. the point is that you already have to prove jewish ancestry in order to immigrate to Israel. the point is that this recent move by the israeli government smacks of non-confrontational ethnic cleansing. the point is that you would think that the israelis, of all people, would be a bit more tolerant.

seriously

is it just me this happens to? i swear to god my tolerance for alcohol is ZERO when i've got my period. like we didn't have any more wine than we usually do of an evening, and i'm *so* hungover today it isn't close to funny. like i've taken god knows how many painkillers and i still have a headache.

of course the wandering to the post office in the 30degree weather probably didn't help the dehydration but goshfukkit i had to mail a letter to my grandma and get me some hangover fries.

so yeah.. married... easter weekend... somewhere outside.. probably some friends and family will turn up, then we'll go to a restaurant and get drunkers. hee. poor guy doesn't know what he's getting into...

actually, he probably does, and yet this hasn't deterred him in the least. he must be sicker than i am.

hey little sister what's your vice and wish

guess who's gettin married?

another manic monday

it's true - mondays are hectic here at the sundae sanatorium. even as we speak i'm lying here in bed, listening to the cat chitter at birds (c-cc-cc-cc-c-c'mere bird! (it's like he stutters)), sipping a cup of coffee that the architect delivered to me in bed before leaving for work, and wondering what to do with myself today NAY this whole week.

ahem.

come on now... don't be hatin - this unemployment gig is hard work.

seriously.

heh ok i don't buy it either but i do have to find things to do to keep myself busy so that i don't go stir crazy and murder myself, the cat, and the architect. i can't imagine being a sixties-era housewife, with nothing to look forward to every day except crying dirty children and six loads of laundry. *shudders*.

(now i know that it is what some people aspire to - being able to stay home and take care of the kids - and i'm not knocking them for it, i'm just saying it's not for me. simmer.)

ug i dunno what to write this morning....

i think this decision to move to SD (aside from the obvious drawbacks like missing my family and friends) was a really good one. knock wood - but my relationship with the architect seems to be getting better and better even with the money stress (which is getting to be less and less); the sunshine does wonders for my depression; my job was sucking the life out of me - now that i'm away from it i can genuinely think about maybe going back to school; our neighbourhood is awesome: we can walk to pretty much everything we need, including bars, restaurants, haircuts, farmers market; and we're starting to actually get a house put together. (knock wood, knock wood, knock wood). we don't live an extravagent exciting lifestyle, but it's quiet and happy and comfortable. i figure that's a good thing...

laugh-out-loud (no really i did)

I wonder if Al Gore realized when he invented the internets that he was just creating a bigger black hole for a calendar so cliched February makes you want to swear: Fuck aphrodisiacs and the “romantic dinner for two” they rode in on.

i love the smell of vitriol in the morning....

i miss this bra

i need a new pale pink under white stuff bra. the one i have is starting to rip and the straps slide at inopportune moments. i want another one like the one in the picture - i like the satiny bit at the top - but i can't remember where i got the original and, let's not kid, it was in vancouver so it doesn't do me any good here. not to mention the fact that the picture is 2.5 years old, so even if i *could* remember where i got it, i probably wouldn't be able to get it again. fuck progress.

isn't it romantic

nothing says i love you like the word 'supermarket' tattooed across your belly. actually, i like the idea of having 'supermarket' written in kanji somewhere on my body - dog knows i heart the grocery store - but i guess when you *think* you are getting your boyfriend's name carved on your person, finding out it actually says tesco, or perhaps safeway, (or ooo! trader joe's!) is a bit of a letdown.

my favourite part, though, isn't the fact that this person didn't actually take the time to do a bit of research to find out what the characters should be (love *is*, after all, dependent upon romantic spontaneity) it's that she "did not think about whether it meant forever". here's a tip - the pain should generally be your first clue that we aren't talking funhouse temporary airbrushing, it's the real dealio.

she works hard for the money

did i ever mention that i became ordained?

yeah i did - so that i could perform weddings. (cue the sound of my mother laughing hysterically. she laughed almost as hard when i told her this as she did the day she tried to watch me sew a straight line on the sewing machine)

anyhoo, yesterday i went and married a couple for the first time. you know, aside from the obvious incongruity of me performing weddings (it's weird even for me, seriously), it's a damn nice way to make a living. you don't work for very long, and it's rewarding to say the least. plus the money's not bad. i made almost as much yesterday as the architect, didn't start till 9, was done by 1, and spent half of the time lounging in the sunshine having lunch once we went through the rehearsal.

wow, though- i wore 'real' heels yesterday for the first time in forever (aside from my boots) and i almost died - squashing my poor toesies into those pointy torture devices, then walking back and forth at a quick pace from one end of a cruise ship to the other after wearing wide toed boots and/or sneakers for 3 months was just this side of agony.
i'm surprised they agreed to hold me up for the rest of the day...

hc *is* tf

you know, i like reese, even with her perky chin. an ad for legally blonde came up yesterday as we were avoiding the superbowl and the architect looked at me and asked 'do you relate to RW in that movie?' and i had to say yes.

man i had a *super* lazy weekend. like lazy even by my recent life standards... didn't really run errands, didn't really do much cooking, didn't really do much except lounge, eat, make out with my boyfriend, read books and watch tv. it was kinda nice to have company in my sloth.

i perused the s-bowl ads online this morning.. i liked the audi ad 'cause i like audis and MINE, by the way, and i liked the JT ad (but mostly cause of andy samberg - also MINE), but my favourite was the coke balloons ad. it was just kinda pretty, and look at charlie brown go he finally got the prize in the end... brought a tear.

or not.

but still.

i'm stuck on bandaid 'cause bandaid's stuck on me

does anyone know why cilantro, more than any other herb, sticks to your fingers? this is something that has puzzled me for *years*, seriously.

i mean, there must be some kind of reason for it. anyone? anyone? bueller?

moving on.

i'm feeling really lazy today - actually, i'm on our couch (which is *not* comfy, and is one of the first things we will change after we get a kitchen table), i'm wrapped up in my fuzzy pink skull blanket, i just finished a cup of tea and i think that if i give myself any kind of chance i will be asleep in six seconds. it's kinda grey outside, and is definitely chilly in here, so why not? i've got the heat on, the cat hasn't emerged from beneath the quilt in the bedroom for hours... i say, nap.

xo

raspberry needs (stolen from facebook)

Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search:
1) Raspberry needs an abundant supply of moisture at all times. (i got it, ok... i'll drink some water!)
2) Raspberry needs full sun.
3) Raspberry needs a more dignified way.

Type in "[your name] looks" in the Google search:
1) Raspberry looks includes shades for eyes, cheeks and lips.
2) Raspberry looks so beautiful. (heh. blushes)
3) Raspberry looks good on her! (dirty!)

Type in "[your name] is" in the Google search:
1) Raspberry is crumbly fruit.
2) Raspberry is an erect shrub that stands over two feet tall.
3) Raspberry is delicious on a hot summer morning.

Type in "[your name] likes" in the Google search:
1) Raspberry likes to drown herself when the vacuum is running.
2) Raspberry likes last year.
3) Raspberry likes coffee ice cream, and professes a passion for sushi.

Type in "[your name] wants" in the Google search:
1) Raspberry wants a world with no manners. (hardly)
2) Raspberry wants you to try it out. (no pressure, though)
3) Raspberry wants lots of room to go mad in the garden. (mad, i say, mad!)

Type in "[your name] says" in the Google search:
1) Raspberry says that Greenspan does appear to be acting more as apologist
2) Raspberry says Florida's "fascinating school voucher experiment" is intriguing in many ways
3) Raspberry says mister Boggis wouldn like that, he dont like people painting his turkeys.

random acts of fabulous

the only evidence that proves it

i've been having some crazy vivid dreams lately. last night i dreamed that i was in my old apartment in peegee, drinking watery orange juice straight from the jug (again with the massive quantities of liquids consumed in dreamland) and the kiddo came out from his room, wondering if there was anything for him to take for lunch... i pointed him at some leftover pizza in the fridge and settled back to read r/r's blog.

he was writing about a trip he'd made to oceanside, washington (a place that doesn't exist, as far as i know) on a quest for manitoba social clubs and former haunts of kurt cobain.

oceanside is a sleepy little town one might even say lackadaisical or dead inside but we met a charming japanese couple at an exxon on the outskirts. they filled our tank and fed us complimentary sushi: little bite sized salmons and tunas that they fished out of the aquarium on the counter beside the slurpee machine, decapitated and gently laid on a pillow of rice. they didn't know anything about kurt cobain but they told us that isaac asimov was giving lectures at the planetarium about the existential meaning of the space between the stars. admission was only five dollars.

all the while i read i was drinking oj from the jug and it was spilling down my shirt, and the kiddo was telling me about cooking in the restaurant he works at, and his girlfriend, and asking about what we were having for dinner the next night. i woke up this morning and had to look around to see if any of it was true - did the wineglass really fall apart in my hand was there really a 3/4 empty jug of orange juice on the table did ryan ray really get into a fistfight at social club named after regina but dedicated to expatriate manitobans. the wineglass and the juice aren't there, but there are some questions to which i don't have the answers.

i can't think of any song lyrics relating to laundry

it may just be that an afternoon at the fluff n fold has sucked the creativity out of me, or it may be that no one has seen fit thus far in human history to script an ode to a freshly laundered sheet.

pity.

anyhoo. big day - laundry, read a laurell k hamilton novel, and am working my way through allende's aphrodite. (got a library card last night - look at me go!)

i was kinda grumpy about the rain, yesterday, and how it's sort of chilly out, until i spoke with my mom this (snowing in vancity) and some friends from back in pee-gee (day 2 of sub negative thirty degree weather). all of a sudden 15 and sunny is kind of a-ok.

and yes i'm still speaking celsius. i don't figure it's worth learning fahrenheit until i'm legally a citizen. can you imagine how disappointed i'd be if i went to the trouble of learning a whole 'nother weather system, only to be kicked out of the country?

the horror.

serendipity (the word not the movie)

though any romantic comedy featuring john cusack can't be all bad, now can it? it's probably best if you don't answer that question, and take this opportunity to reflect upon the hotness that is martin blank.

onward.


the word itself is today's reason to drink, per my google homepage. wikipedia says that it was coined by horace walpole on this day in 1754 (he stole the word from a persian fairy tale) and means making a happy or fortuitous discovery while looking for something else (you know, kind of how i found the meaning of the word serendipity while looking for a reason to get loaded at 9.30 in the am).

it's not like i *need* a reason to drink, i just like to have something to say when people ask my why i'm on my fourth tequila sunrise by the time 11.30 rolls around.

anyhoo - weekend. mostly non-eventful in a relaxing did lots of walking kind of way... discovered a great new breakfast type cafe within walking distance where you can have oatmeal with soymilk and strawberries for $3 or some other reasonable sum.

oh - note to self. raspberry you need to make a conscious effort to drink more during the day. water, that is, not alcohol - you are doing just fine on that account. when you start having dreams that are centred around drinking big delicious icy cool glasses of lemonade and water then you are probably a bit on the dehydrated side.

just sayin.

where the hell I'm going at 1000 feet per second

in an effort to combat my cabin fever we went out and played tourist today... went walking through the bottom of a canyon in the sunshine this morning then sat outside at a cafe and had breakfast, then went up to the old presidio and walked all over that damn place this afternoon. i wish i'd had my camera in the canyon but forgot to bring it - there's this little log cabin halfway down that looks like it's been there for over 100 years (and it probably has) - you know for sure that it was built before all the ginormous homes were balanced precariously along the top of the escarpment, and will probably be sitting there all snug as a bug long after earthquakes have sent them rumbling tumbling down.

i also ate an in-and-out burger - my first ever. it's apparently a california must so i braved the allergies and gave it a shot.

yum.

the fries aren't the best, but you can watch them hack up giant potatoes to make them, so that's something.

metal health will drive you mad

so after spewing the contents of my brain all over the innerweb in an pseudo-apocryphal mental orgasm this morning, i bawled my eyes out for about 20 minutes while wandering around the apartment (as an aside, have you ever been mid emotional explosion and realized you needed to pee? there's something especially undignified about sitting on the pot crying, wiping your nose and your nethers simultaneously)(anyhoo) and then crawled into bed and went to sleep for about 2 hours. the only word from the outside world was that periodically my cat would poke his nose under the blankets to make sure i was still breathing, before continuing on his feline way.

i did bake the scarlet letter cuppy cake yesterday, by the way, but none of the photos looked anything other than ass-esque. ergo, you will have to use your imagination.

bang your head

you know there are very definitely days where i wake up and think to myself this isn't going to work. i wake up make sure i wake up so i can say goodbye and instead get an itemized list of the shit you need me to do today take out the recycling take pictures of the stuff to sell on craigslist yeah i know i'm sitting here beside you but please jump up from what you're doing and go measure the table oh and i'm going to conduct this phone call and turn down the program you are watching 'cause well it's work so it's clearly more important than you.

yeah i know i sound like i'm whinging and i am but when i say i've spent the last two mornings reading through all of the bullshit on fucking visa applications and i can't see the difference between these two options telling me to go back and look more isn't going to make me happy. i'm not stupid i've searched and searched and really can't see how one is significantly better or worse than the other.

pulling the bullshit guilt trip about how you're doing the extra work and putting in the extra hours so we can afford *my* visa 'cause it's *me* who needs it after all is just going to make me less happy.


makes me want to say fuck it i'll borrow the money off my folks and go home where i *can* work and fuck it if it's just me who wants this needs this.

fuck it 'cause i don't need the bullshit and for all your big talk about how i'm contributing and the stuff i'm doing is important like finding the apartment finding all the furniture doing all the cooking all the cleaning except the dishes and the garbage (oh wait i am doing the garbage and the recycling) fuck it 'cause when you say bullshit stuff like that it shows me what you really think.

hit play

the wind is lashing lustily and the trees are thrashing thrustily

unintentional porn courtesy of the freakydeaky mind of poohbear. he's all hopped up on honey and rainwater, bouncing through the clouds attached to a sky-blue balloon. watch out for the palm trees, pooh, they're bound to knock a bear down to size.

ya ya ya

the sister's on her way to jamaica, currently, and (though my friends back home insist i have no right) i'm more than slightly jealous. the two moves in two months and fucking 1.5months rent damage deposit it cost to get this place, coupled with furniture acquisition and a trip home for christmas (of all the fucking expensive holidays we had to move right in time for...) have left us just to the right hand side of flat broke.

and therein lies the reason why i haven't taken a class joined a gym started yoga begun a hobby. the demon greenback and all its entrails.

whatevs, though... today we start the process of getting me legal. so i look forward, not backwards and stay positive even though i'm feeling a bit trapped by circumstance. today i shall bake cuppity cakes and because it's d-day (the day the architect's divorce is final!) i shall inscribe them with a red letter A. i'm so witty. oh and then i can get a job, maybe something fun in a used bookstore, or a cafe making lattes and bantering with the suits - something with no stress and no take home anxiety or drama - something that i can keep doing on a not full time basis and maybe just maybe go back to uni. i'd like that. but remind me, then, of how i was bored staying home doing nothing all day being a good little urban housewife.

god hates

excuse for my ignorance, but isn't one of the basic principals of new testament christianity love thy neighbour?

those fucking bigoted misanthropic assholes over at the westboro baptist church are going to picket heath ledger's funeral b/c he played a gay man in that movie that a few people saw.

i noticed that they have posted a phone number. i wonder if it would bother them much if they got a few million phone calls from a)heath ledger fans and b)actual decent members of the human race.

fucking assholes.

why buy a mattress anywhere... else

i've been listening to the jeff o'neil show via the innerweb and they were just discussing the fact that phenomenon of minor injuries caused by playing with your wii (heh) has become prevalent enough to be considered a syndrome - the wii syndrome. now, to me that sounds like something you get when you are a bit insecure about the size of your manhood.... causes you to head out and buy a really big truck or perhaps a flashy american sportscar in bright yellow... or maybe how eddie vedder feels when he's got his pellet gun..

but i digress.

not that i was talking about anything to begin with.

but still.

i'm feeling some pressure to perform, here. i went back and was reading a bunch of my archives yesterday, and was rudely reminded of the fact that i *used* to be a better writer... like i used to actually have interesting things to say.. like i used to be cool.

fuck i think i'm off my own bandwagon (i've been poaching liberally from the jeff o'neill show today. and i've spelled it differently both times in this post.. i'm such a badass!)

you know, there's a long established link between creativity and mental health - that is, it takes a certain amount of nuts to produce good art. i wonder if the meds aren't just hiding my crazy, they are also making it so i can't write well anymore. i mean, i'm still fucked up - if i were to go cold turkey i'm sure i'd self destruct in a glorious blaze of drinking and drugs and sex that would put frickin britney lohan to shame - but maybe i won't be so f'in normal.

ah i dunno - it's probably not worth it. certain aspects of normality have their attractions (boyfriend, apartment, not being on a rollercoaster of frickin' emotion and drama all the time). might be an interesting experiment, if i weren't thousands of miles away from free healthcare, but not so much here.

i think my life is passing me by

so it's 9.30 and i'm in bed eating cereal, perusing anthony b's blog and wondering wtf to do with myself today. at least the sun's out - yesterday it was rainy and conducive only to cranking up the heat, putting on fuzzy sweatpants and baking cookies.

(as an aside - i invented a cookie recipe yesterday and it turned out really well. let me know if you are interested and i'll email it to you.)

mind you i kind of feel worse about doing nothing when it's sunny - like i'm wasting it, or something. but really, there's not much *to* do. we did a huge grocery shop this weekend, so while i should get some buns to make turkey burgers for dinner, there's not much required there. it's not warm enough for the beach, or else i could take the bus that way. i guess i could go to the library, but our furniture expenditures of the weekend have sort of limited our disposable cash, which means no new-to-me book purchases till the end of the month.

le sigh.

i guess i could clean.

someone amuse me, please. i feel like that green day song.

bored

not that i'm bored or anything but i just dyed my hair and gave myself a haircut. looks fine from the front, but i'll have to wait for the architect to get home to learn whether or not i've butchered the back of my head.

got a mouthful of love

have we talked about trader joe's yet? and how much i love that sweet sweet establishment? and how i'm not sure how i lived from day to day without it previously? 'cause it's true - i don't know how i did it. i'd say that on any given day i consume at least one trader joe's product (already finished today's: maple frosted shredded wheats mmm) and $2 wine?! get out of town! it's cheaper than orange juice!

other than that, not much is going on. we bought a bed this weekend, so no more sleeping on the floor, but haven't 'christened' it yet, if you get my drift, 'cause on saturday night we went to see some local bands at the casbah (think richards on richards without the perpetually overflowing toilet) and the architect drank lots and was passed out before i finished brushing my teeth, and last night i was tired and somewhat grouchy.

maybe tonight. who knows?

i did actually make it out to the book club on saturday and i'm so pleased that i did, because the folks there were tonnes of fun, and it was awesome for me to talk to people who weren't selling me something, or pouring my coffee. i was really nervous, though, 'cause ... well... meeting new people isn't the easiest thing in the world, for me. but it's done and the ice has been broken and off we go.

dingadingdang my dangalonglinglong

how can you not love a radio station that plays jesus built my hotrod followed by bob marley at 10am in the morning? it's nigh on impossible, i'm telling you.

ok i know it's not ten yet - this was yesterday but i'm sure this morning they are cooking up similar pots of awesomeness, i just haven't gotten out of bed yet to check.

so our furniture acquisition has been coming along by leaps and bounds. chateau craigslist is actually starting to look like a home - down to a *real* bed that actually matches our dresser (ikea malm, black/brown). darn comfy, i do say.

we also bought two small bookcases yesterday - most of my books are still in storage, so these are more than adequate for the handful i brought with me, as well as the few purchased in the last couple of months. yay real home, almost!

next step - getting some stuffs up on the walls.


OMG i'm going on line in 10 min to buy tickets for the Black Keys at HOB on March 21!!! sorry slightly distracted, there. it's amazing how slowly time passes when you are waiting to buy concert tickets.

name that tune

here's a little game i like to play with myself.

no not *that* kind of game... perverts.

when i go poking through the traffic for my site, a remarkable number of hits come from google searches for song lyrics. and, fairly consistently, the song lyrics are mostly incorrect. i mean, this isn't a new phenomenon, i know. heck, people have written books about it and made their fortunes. le sigh, if only i'd been blogging 20 years ago. darn you al gore for waiting so long to invent the innerwebs!

but i digress.

the game is, for me, to see if i can identify the songs through the google search that brought people to the site. for example: "here we go again get wicked" is hear the drummer get wicked from the song of the same name, released sometime in the mid 80s (i think). heh clearly i'm an expert.

here's a better one: "its on for any season i got so many reasons" is "a song for any season, i've got so many reasons you're gonna wanna make it some day..." - that's tiga. good song.

i still don't know how many calories are in neo citran, though.

when i do that damn thing i do that there

favicon changed praise the 8lb lord baby jeebus. it's actually way easier than any of the help files i looked at would suggest, and i managed to do it with a .jpg rather than a .ico file (blogger doesn't like those). so i'm pleased with myself. yay me!

i had the worst f'in sleep last night. it took forever for me to fall asleep (probably due to my 2hr midol-induced mid afternoon nap) and then when i did i was having the worst anxiety dreams *ever*. they were so vivid, too - like the dreams i used to have when i didn't sleep on the weekends just took lots of drugs and my body was totally REM deprived.

you know those dreams that people talk about where they are running and running as hard as they can, but can barely move? mine don't go that way - for me it's more like i'm struggling to get up a snowy hill but i keep sliding backwards. the more i dig in the faster i slide down.

last night i got word that an old friend of mine just had a miscarriage. we've lost touch over the years, and it's probably my fault 'cause i really *am* no good at female friendships, it would seem, but her and her husband were always there for me during the crazyjeremy shit, and i love them lots, in my own way. so i'm sending happy thoughts into the ether, hoping they're heard, somehow.

you know there's always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

alexisonfire makes me homesick

on the weird winds of ontario

yeah so r/r was right and i knew all along he was right i was just lazy and didn't want to start over.

but i did and the dates are back. out of the mouths of ontarians...

next challenge - getting my raspberry back up in the icon window.

in other news, i have cramps and currently want to kill myself, or at least amputate my midsection. i think i shall take a large number of drugs and go sit outside in the sunshine. if i'm not back in six-8 hours send a cocktail.

the dashboard melted

now i'm no fashionista, but a girl's got needs. so when my m&d gave me a $100 macy's gc for christmas, i thought hot damn! newbootsnewshoesnewclothes! (not all at once, of course - this is macy's, not walmart. sheesh) so twice thrice i've headed down there, now and three times i've been disappointed.

oh not with the quality of merchandise at america's favourite department store. oh no. i've been disappointed by my ability to find something that i feel like buying or wearing.

part of it is, of course, the fact that most of my outings day to day involve walking or riding my bike - either on errands or just for pleasure. this sort of restricts my wardrobe to a certain extent, as some garments just aren't suited. riding a bike in certain skirts is not only awkward but borderline indecent - the wind does have a tendency to ... er... malfunction your wardrobe, as it were.

the other part of the problem is that it's 20degrees out and *january*. when the weather hits 20deg in canada, it's officially summer. down here, though, it's winter to the locals, and they're all running around dressed appropriately. ok maybe no toques and parkas, but in pants and sweaters and dark colours. i, of course, don't want to be the canadian rube in shorts and a tank top but *seriously* - it's 20degrees out! 22 yesterday! we're talking bikini on the beach weather, in my world, or at the very least sitting in the sunshine having cocktails in a sundress.

i feel as though i'm in some kind of wardrobe purgatory. i *want* to buy new clothes but the stuff on the rack is all sweaters and warm things. my brain tells me it's too frickin hot out for that crap, short circuits, stamps its foot and goes for a drink.

on a patio.

without me.

in a sundress.

and there i am, left standing in the midst of wraps and sweaters and knee high black leather boots, jaw slack, arms akimbo until the architect fetches me and brings me around by wafting a bottle of $3 wine under my nose.

needless to say, i've spent the gc on cookware.

the weight upon your kiss; ambiguous

i've been reading a lot lately. like a*lot*. i'm not back to where i was the summer i went a little crazy, where i was afraid to talk to people and never left my apartment unless i was on my way to the wendys drive through for a baked potato and a green salad or down to value village for more paperbacks. those days i was reading at least one, sometimes two, sometimes (on the really bad days) three a day. it was the only way i could escape, you see, escape the voices in my head - i put other peoples' words in their mouths and kept them full of thought other than those which were coming to me uninvited.

i have, however, been reading a lot. this depression thing gets the better of me, sometimes, especially when i've not been so good with my meds, and when there is stress in the air. even the sunshine can't shake it off, some days, and today is one of those days. it's not as bad as it used to be.... i could make polite conversation with the guy at the corner liquor store, but i had to go there instead of the supermarket when i took a fancy for a tuna sandwich at lunchtime. i'm comfortable with him, you see, and i don't know the people at henry's.

so on these kinds of days i sit out on the steps in the front and read my book, hoping that none of the neighbours looks up and sees me, nibbling my sandwich, sipping my gingerale, and reading my book. i just want to sit here and watch, and pet the cat beside me on his harness, and read and, most of all, drown out the voices in my head.

i wouldn't trade one stupid decision for another five years of lies

ok seriously - will *someone* please look at my code and tell me why the fruity heck my dates are no longer there? SERIOUSLY - i keep staring at it and staring at it and it makes me want to scratch my eyes out with a frickin chunk of steel wool.

oh and i'm really hungry. there are leftovers in the fridge, but it's a long way away and i've got a cat on my feet again. we've really started to bond over our mutual reluctance to get out of the nice warm cozy bed. *yawns*.

actually there are *good* leftovers in the fridge. last night we went across the street for dinner to this lounge that the architect did some of the structural design for. it's pretty 'see and be seen' but the food is tasty - especially the pesto hummus which gives me a bellyache but is oh-so-delicious. hm maybe that's worth getting up for.. maybe.

PLEASE FIX MY DATES PLEASE I'M BEGGING SOMEONE ANYONE

stop - you've got to shake the waist-ah!

so the architect's sister is in town this week for work... she came by for dinner last night and we (her and i, but mostly me) drank 3 bottles of red wine. i feel surprisingly good, all things considered, but i've decided that it may be a good day to lounge in the bed with a cat and a nice breeze from the open window.

my life is rough, let me tell you.

the architect wandered off to bed and left us alone to chat. i hope i didn't say anything i'll regret later on when we see her for dinner this evening. heh.

yeah so anyway i tumbled into bed at an unknown hour (but if i had to guess i'd say midnight-ish) wearing my tshirt, socks, and my undies. i had just fallen ass over teakettle onto the floor while trying to take my jeans off, so i imagine the socks seemed too much of a threat to national security and a sure way to wake the architect up.

so.

much.

grace.

heh.

i wasn't actually grouchy yesterday, i promise.

You're fat - and look as though you should be...

has anyone else seen the ads for the 'feasty boys' on the travel channel, or the food channel, or the shopping channel or whatever it is? they tout themselves as searching for food for the regular guy and advocate the four 'bees' - bacon, butter, something and something....

sheesh if america really *is* suffering an obesity epidemic (and i've been to the "south", and i live in san diego which (the architect assures me) is one of the fittest cities in north america - trust me; they're not kidding when they say that) i wonder about the wisdom of popularizing fat as a positive lifestyle choice?

(this, by the way, is part two of the series entitled 'raspberry needs a haircut'....)

caring *is* creepy

so the keyboardist for the shins was arrested in sacramento for assaulting his girlfriend (a former 'america's next top model' contestant) in a hotel room. not that i'm condoning domestic violence, but i'm thinking that spending any time in a hotel room with someone who's taken any advice given by tyra banks to heart - especially one who is the kind of person who immediately publishes an internet journal post including photos in a pathetically transparent attempt to gain publicity, would drive most people to violence.

i mean, come on. this is the best shot whatshertits has at making getting her name back into the public eye. the only time we hear about the former (and when i say former i mean the losing (though sometimes even winning) contestants of any of these reality shows is when they end up in jail.

(i'm not publishing her name. i refuse to pander.)

whether or not marty crandall is guilty (and we are still living in north america - he's entitled to a trial before a judge and jury of his peers, not before a legion of reality tv addicts (unless he's one himself, in which case those are his peers)), his alleged victim has shown extremely poor taste in her actions. i mean, seriously - it's bad enough that our society is so addicted to celebrity that public figures can't even pop to the store in sweats without it being blasted all over the internet by the 'paps', never mind contributing to it yourself.

domestic violence is a big deal - using it for self promotion (which seems to be the case here) belittles the horror that it represents. and you are right - this girl could have very sincere in her motivations for discussing this attack via the internet. however, i am at the point where i am so disenchanted with the celebrity factory that is our culture that i am going to stick my neck out and assume otherwise.

put the needle on the record here we go again

ok i may be kinda drunk.

yes again.

red wine is cheaper than juice here, ergo, why would i drink anything else?

clearly.

we've bought a bunch of furniture off craigslist in the past little while... we're trying to re-arrange our lives to fit the furniture and the furniture to look like we have lives. does that make sense?

i didn't think so.

watched another episode of no reservations - crush alert still high. the architect is teasing me about staining the leather couch with my panty soup but it's not the show that works me over - it's the books. i did my reading earlier on when he wasn't here.


heh.

le fook

ok so i've got the sitemeter, but wtf happened to my dates?
i just can't leave well enough alone, can i.

oh and i seriously need a haircut.

begging you to beg me

clearly when i'm home by myself for a great deal of time i think about sex far more than is healthy.

that, or i shouldn't go to bed horny (damn lazy red wine sleepytime) 'cause i had some seriously dirty dreams last night.

they may have involved anthony bourdain.


they may not have.




i'll never tell.


anyhoo i think i'm done futzing with the graphic up top but i can't figure out how to fix the raspberry vs b thing in the nav bar, or how to get my sitemeter back up. any words of advice would be extremely appreciated.

(the return of semi-frank conversations about sex to this blog are, in part, a response to the self-ass-kick i recently gave myself regarding my internal censorship. i hope that no one who has come to the sundae sanatorium recently is shocked or offended... this is the way that i think a lot of the time. i'm not sure if i'll go back to the photography (i'd have to discuss it with the architect) but we'll see. for now this is a step, as they say, towards the gutter, from whence i can gaze upon the stars...)

details, details

i can't figure out how to make my favicon (that little b symbol up in the navigation bar) change with xml. gawrammit it, i'm irritated about that.

ok so the architect is snoozing away beside me, carried off to dreamland on a chariot made of his share (which is slightly less than mine 'cause i'm a lush and don't have to work in the am) of 2.5 bottles of wine (it's cheaper than juice, here! why isn't everyone in AA?) and i'm hornier'n'hell.

do guys care if their girlfriends take care of business while they sleep? 'cause a girl has needs, dammit, and she watched her first ever episode of anthony bourdain's no reservations tonight (new season starts monday! he's going to vancouver!) and i'm kinda hot.

ok i admit it- i have a geeky cook-girl crush on anthony bourdain, bad shirts, cigarettes and all. rawr. it's not so much his show (let's not kid - he's not the most attractive of men, and his voice isn't overly masculine or anything.) as it is the attitude that's conveyed when he writes. the irreverence is what does it for me, i think - i'm such a sucker for the bad boy. enough to give a girl the vapours i swear.

anyhoo - i too have had my share of wine (yeah like you couldn't tell) and so i'm going to stop poking around at my code before i really break something and go to bed.

wish me luck lovin' the one i'm with...

xo

there

ok i feel better about the layout for a while.

it's like you never had wings aah ahh

the cat is doing random circuits through the apartment which involve traipsing across my chest as i lie on the bed. i'm not sure what he's doing or what he's trying to tell me but it'd clearly important enough to step on at least one of my nipples every five minutes or so. i have a cute picture of him sitting at the screen door but blogger won't let me upload anything at the mo... damn blogger. (look at me biting the hand that feeds).

anyhoo... i'm feeling a bit stressed out about money and such right now. we really couldn't afford to go to vancouver for christmas but we did and now we are broke and still (with a few exceptions, including a $20 table we discovered in the macy's furniture clearance centre) sans furniture. it sucks that i can't work legally, and i'm totally insecure about asking someone to hire me on under the table. i don't know why - i have more balls than this - i'm just freaked out. i think part of it is that i know if i was caught i could be deported and never allowed back and all of the shit we've gone through in the past couple of months would have been for nothing - either i'd be back in canada alone, or we'd both be back starting at zero again.

le sign.

anyhoo - enough of that crap. i've got a book to read, along with some blogs, and a cat to snuggle with.

even the noise you make when you sleep

so here's a confession - round about the end of the summer i felt the need to listen to old bruce springsteen.... i know it's not 'cool', but there it is. he's a good songwriter, and his voice is sort of unique, and i like it, and and and....

the only person i really admitted this too is the sister (well and the architect, because he's forced to listen to whatever i'm blaring through the computer). we listened to a bunch of it while on the way up to pee-gee for the weekend back in september.

now, though, i feel kinda vindicated. i mean, if the arcade fire dig bruce, then he *must* be pretty hip, right?



and you have to admit - this is the best springsteen song not written by the man himself...

it was the best of tunes...

ok with no further adieu, here is my only contribution to the mania of year-end (year beginning, i guess, but sue me i was traveling with a cat on the 31st) lists...

1. UNKLE - War Stories The first half of a perfect soundtrack to a summer evening on the balcony with a glass (or twelve) of wine, the architect, and the sister. Listening to War Stories makes me want to listen to Never Never Land, which makes me want to listen to War Stories again.
   
2. Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank My favourite summer commuting album.
   
3. Kings of Leon - Because of the Times This album is allll about driving a rental car around San Diego in the sunshine (to me, anyway).
   
4. Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga Sadly, this was my first introduction to Spoon, but I've since gone back and listened to some of their earlier work. I think it's just a great, fun, listenable album.
   
5. Radiohead - In Rainbows There's not much I can say about this album that hasn't been said a million times. It's not my favourite (I liked Hail to the Thief better), but it's good and I love the way they make an entrance.
   
6. Aesop Rock - None Shall Pass He's great live, too.
   
7. Beastie Boys - The Mix Up Ahh jazzy b-boys... the second half to the balcony soundtrack.
   
8. Baby 81 - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Not my favourite by them, but it's a great album nonetheless.
   
9. 45:33 - LCD Soundsystem This really grew on me. It's probably the grooviest running soundtrack around, and (aside from a track or two) I preferred it to Sounds of Silver.
   
10. Interpol - Our Love to Admire ... How *are* things on the west coast, you may ask... Well they're movin real fine.

now in honesty, there were a few 2006 albums that really played a big part in my '07, so i'd be remiss if i didn't mention them here:

1. Rise Against - The Suffer and the Witness
2. Silversun Pickups - Carnarvas
3. Evil Nine - Fabriclive 28
4. The Black Keys - all of 'em, really
   and last but definitely not least
5. Alexisonfire - Crisis

i know they aren't the 'coolest' choices... but for some reason this is the stuff that spoke to me again and again last year. sometimes i think that music sites and magazines compete to list the most obscure albums / artists in their top ten. i figure if my lil brother (the biological one, though my spiritual lil brother is good in this aspect as well (despite his shocking blog-absence)) hasn't heard of them they can't be *that* great 'cause he really keeps his fingers on the pulse of current 'college' style music.

whatevs, though... this is just what i like. maybe there is something there that you will enjoy as well.

three blocks over from yesterday

ug my laptop is currently resting on my post christmas bulge and i want to go upstairs get a serrated knife and do a little home liposuction with the stabber and the vaccuum.
it's less drastic than diet and exercise. seriously.

how was your christmas? mine was strangely non. just non. i mean, nice gifts nice visits good food but it mostly felt like a visit with family more than anything. maybe 'cause it was all so rushed.

the kiddo worked most of the time so i did get to hang with him a bit but nothing too significant and now he's off to kelowna for new year and le sigh. he sent me nice text messages when he arrived and i had to fight off the tears again and and and.. i miss him.

i do like san diego though... i even feel a bit homesick for our little abode, furniture-less though it may be. plus it's warm there, and weather here in sog-city is calling for rain rain rain for days and days to come. i feel that new years day maybe should be spent on the beach with a picnic and a bottle of bubbly.

i hope our friends come visit lots and it's not just one of those things where everyone *says* they will but life gets in the way and no one gets around to it and soon you all have drifted apart.

happy blog day

my little blog is four years old, today, and i find myself asking if it is still relevant. i haven't written in 3 weeks and, to be honest, i haven't missed it much. i got out of the habit, i guess. there used to be a day when i *had* to write - was *driven* to do it. now it's almost an inconvenience, a chore.

i'll give it another shot, though, 'cause i've been reading through my back posts and found this, which is originally from tony pierce:

heres when you will experience "blogger burnout":

1. when your internal dialogue gets hijacked by your concerns about what your readers will think.
2. when you are afraid to write down what you are truly thinking about at that moment.
3. when you believe the lie that some people just arent capable of good writing.
4. when you believe the lie that there is a certain way that you "should" write anything.
5. when you get more involved in punctuation, spelling, or aestetics than saying what you want to say.
6. when you get caught up in traffic, hits, popularity, readers, and/or fame.
7. when you believe the lie that what you think doesnt matter.
8. when you believe the lie that what youre about to say has been said before and/or written down better.
9. when you forget that most ideas can be expressed in less than 15 minutes.
10. when you dont set aside a little bit of time each day to update your blog.

i have all those symptoms, currently. i wonder if there is a cure?

i'm learning

my good friend screetus figures that the trick to being happy in a new city is learning the rules of the city. i'm still working on those, but i have figured out something: the two most useful phrases for dealing with telemarketers and those people who stand outside wholefoods/tjs/farmers markets are a) i'm canadian and b) i rent my home. i guess if you are currently *in* canada, the first one might not work so well, though it may throw them off long enough for you to make a clean getaway.

i'm hungry, and the only thing we really have to eat for breakfast is chocolate cake. oh and raisin bagels (yak). le sigh... it's all nasty and rainy out today, though, so i don't want to walk down to bread and cie. yes i know - my vancouver residency card is perilously close to being revoked but there it is - i don't want to go walking in the rain. i don't even have an umbrella here, for pete's sake. if i'd listened to the architect when i was packing, i wouldn't even have a jacket.

i guess chocolate cake is an acceptable breakfast. it's not like there is anyone else here to catch me eating it. mmm cake

tomorrow we find out if we get to rent a GREAT little apartment over in university heights. the architect tells me i shouldn't get so excited - at least not until we've signed the lease - but i can't help myself. it's everything we've been looking for at a price we can totally afford in an awesome part of town. so send good thoughts my way...

december 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

woo-woo is the disco call

so it's kind of weird to be thinking about christmas shopping when it's sunny and 20deg out, but thinking i am. this year's going to be a wee bit tighter on the gifts than the past few have been, what with the 'me not working' thing and all, but i figure i can come up with some cool stuff for not so much money if i put my mind to it.

like yesterday we went into this kind of garden and ceramic place, and i found a (fake obviously) dragon skull that i think the kiddo will rather enjoy. bonus is that it's kinda cheep, too ($35 or something). ha i can just see me heading across the border with it, though... 'what's in this box, ma'am?' 'oh a dragon skull'.

what are you doing for christmas this year? special events, gifts, plans.. what do you want for christmas?

raspberry porn

the architect: 'what are you watching?'
raspberry: 'kind of an interview thing with the constantines
the architect: 'oh. i see. well let me know if you want to go into the bedroom when it's over'.
heh.

part one of my new favourite things about california - bread & cie

I grew up about 500 miles north of Vancouver, in British Columbia, Canada, which means that walking home from school in the winter months often involved slogging through snowdrifts in -30 degree (Celsius - I don't speak Fahrenheit yet) temperatures.

Luckily for me, my mom stayed at home for most of my childhood and was a prolific baker. In fact, she even baked all the bread for our family - Wednesday was bread baking day. One of my favourite memories of childhood is tromping up to the house, scrambling over the big pile of snow the plow inevitably left at the foot of the driveway, and coming in the door to the smell of fresh baked bread. I'd seat myself in front of the fireplace with a book and she'd present me with a thick slice of fresh baked bread, still warm from the oven, smothered in butter and strawberry jam my grandma had made the summer before.

Bread and Cie brings back those memories for me. What else can I say?

i'm too lame to think of a pithy title for this post

man i never would have believed that you could make whitney houston's 'greatest love of all' *more* elevator-esque and cheezarific, but here i am stuck on hold with rogers wireless wishing i could scrape my eardrums free from this offensive blandness with a chopstick.

grawr. ok done with that. i have now set up my blackberry so that (even though i am unemployed) i am constantly available via email. sadly, this makes me happy. i have felt disconnected and slightly dismembered since losing my email...

i also am now the proud owner of a fully unlocked blackberry pearl, which is also a very good thing.

here's a scenario for you - a what would you do kind of thing.

say you were walking down a moderately busy street one day, and as you passed a car you heard someone calling for help from inside the trunk. would you call 911 and walk away, afraid that whomever locked the trunk with the person inside is going to return and do you harm? or would you dial 911 and stay with the car, supporting the person trapped inside until help arrived?

i have that damn aerosmith song in my head again

ugh i don't even know what to write about. thanksgiving... good but weird to spend a holiday with someone else's family... weekend - kind of uneventful except for a nice bottle of wine friday night and a big hike down the beach up a hill back down the hill on saturday... i was feeling really sick then realized i hadn't taken my meds since wednesday duh...

today i don't seem to want to get out of bed, even though the sun is shining through the blinds, i need to go buy deodorant so i can stop poaching the architects, and i desperately need to do some laundry.

le sigh.

oh man - anyone watch how i met your mother? this is an honest-to-god ad i found for apartments: "Live, Eat, and Sleep in the hottest location on the south side of SAN DIEGO. Dowisetrepla apartments feature hardwood floors, silestone countertops, all appliances and more. Our club house is open 24/7. Located within a minute of the dog park, we welcome dogs of all sizes."

heh. dowisetrepla....

base the turkey on frida kahlo

so tomorrow is my first ever amurrrkin thanksgiving. i'm a bit nervous, as i will be sitting at a table surrounded by the architect's extended famdamly. yeah i've met most of them before but still.

i might be a bit drunk 'cause i opted for wine as dinner.

heh.

this morning the door rang and i leapt out of bed but was very careful at the same time that i not disturb the cat from his spot on the end of the bed at my feet. this was very sweet of me, and a response driven completely by habit, because the cat is back in vancouver till christmas. funny how the brain works, no?

one of the top ten blog posts ever

crack/ass by keith via dblogged...

the bottle in front of me's like a

i just read this crazy article on frontal lobotomies via npr. npr has become my cbc replacement, cause we don't have an in the house stereo and i can only listen to the cbc in the car, now, courtesy of my friend sirius.

it's funny the things you miss when you move to another country - i mean, besides the big things like friends, family, le chat... things like the cbc, my chaise, the gas fireplace, smarties....

anyhoo, back to the lobotomy. it's crazy to think that frontal lobotomies with (essentially) an icepick was considered a valid medical technique to treat everything from depression to (if one believes the feminist rhetoric) poor housewifery as recently as the 1950s. mind you, hysterectomies were used to treat nearly every female ailment including pimples, so why should this surprise me?

oh ok not pimples. i made that bit up.

the plus sides to california are, of course, the sunshine and the cheap wine. oh and the fact that i have no car, so i've been walking / biking everywhere and so am getting skinny again...

conquistadors who took their share

so last weekend i dragged the architect to see control; the new biography of ian curtis by anton corbijn. if you are a fan of joy division, you must see this film. if you are not a fan of joy division, but are a fan of film and music, you really *should* see this film. to poach from another review, corbijn rescues viewers from the 'shiny happy' musical biopics we have seen for the past few years (i.e. ray, dreamgirls) and, for a hundred minutes or so, allows the audience to follow along with curtis' rise and subsequent fall. everyone knows how the story ends, and yet i found myself anticipating the band's success despite that knowledge. for me, that is the sign of a good film, and a good story - when you are hoping that somehow, at the end, romeo and juliet will live happily ever after; that king arthur won't be killed by his son, that ian curtis won't hang himself on the eve of the american tour.

it's beautiful and dark and inspiring and haunting. highly recommended.

don't want to close my eyes

i have no idea why that song's in my head this morning. i'm not a fan of aerosmith by any means... ooo the architect and i found a sweet little garden apartment down by balboa park - totally restored 20s vintage with hardwood floors... so sweet and in our pricerange. i emailed the property manager to see if we could view it. plus it's pet friendly so we can bring tonymontana down with us at christmas. i guess he's having a rough time at my parents place because the dog just won't leave him alone, and is very jealous of any attention given to him. worse than kids, these pets.

here's a funny piece of trivia for you to pass on if you will: last night i used 'patootie' in a scrabulous game, and was informed that 'patoot' is cree for vajayjay. how fun is that? i wonder if that's where the word came from.... modern english is such a wonderful hodgepodge of so many other languages. i love words. ok done with the geeking out.

some stuff i've been perusing:
1) from slate - a cool article about black metal and environmentalism.
2) also from slate - musings on the death of email in the wake of facebook and other social networking sites
3) from cracked - 9 words that don't mean what you think (man i wish i had this back when i was teaching...)

le sigh

i miss having friends.

the sun's coming in through the window and highlighting all of the fingerprints on my computer screen

it's funny how reading certain writers can make you want to write more write better write with a certain modicum of legibility and coherence. for me it's chuck klosterman and tony pierce. i've read a bit of both this am so here i am tappity tapping away while the architect is at work. i guess veteran's day isn't an 'everyone off' day like it is back home; it's really more of a bank holiday.

i kind of missed its approach, this year, because people don't do the poppy thing round these parts. maybe next year i'll ask someone to send me one in advance because, like so many other things i didn't understand or appreciate when i was a shitty little brat, remembrance day has sort of become important to me.

or maybe it's that i didn't know it was important to me until all of a sudden it wasn't there.

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

the architect and i spent saturday (i kid you not - we left the house before 9am and didn't return until past six. we spent ALL SATURDAY) shopping for our little abode. it's starting to become more of a home. i don't think either one of us expected to feel at all comfortable here; when we stayed here the last time it was being used as office space / storage by his cousins and so it felt cluttered and dusty and ... not cozy. now, though, we've had some good meals and sipped some nice wine and played some dominoes. it can't be a home without the dominoes.

today i think i'm off to a cafe patio with my book. that, or i may take the bicyclette down to balboa park and lounge about and read. i can't quite decide...

just a little heat

is it just me who sees a craigslist posting titled ROCKER - $60 and expects the link to lead to a picture of somebody who looks a little like this guy?

watch this mo-fo-ers

r/r

just shut your eyes... it's happening

well hello! and welcome to san diego! it's not sunny here, and hasn't been since we arrived. i have been assured, however, that the locals are currently relishing the opportunity to wear their sweaters, and that when it's 80degrees and sunny at christmas i will be longing for this weather.

heh. ya right. at christmas i'll be in vancouver IN THE RAIN. bring on the 80degree sunniness, i say.

interestingly, i'm lying here in bed listening to my favourite vancouver rainyday band the be good tanyas. i mean, let's put this all in perspective: back home it's pouring and 8 degrees. here outside is overcast and +16 flavoured. we went for a walk after dinner last night and didn't *really* need hoodies. so i can't complain *too* too much - just a bit, right?

right.

so anyway, now that i'm unpacked and a little bit more organized i shall do my utmost to post here at least once daily. i've got some grand plans for my little brain, and i'm reading the new chuck klosterman book, so that always does good things for my writing.

i can't make any promises, of course, 'cause i wouldn't want you to have anything to hold against me (unless it's dave grohl - you can hold him against me all the time if you want).

PS - that's the view from my front door. wanna come visit?