bon appetit you've eaten me alive you realize

ay caramba just had a flash that i was maybe getting myself over my head with this architect fellow. translation - i'm freaking out and thinking maybe i should run away run away. it's not too late, little raspberry, you can still cut and run, emerge (mostly) unscathed... un scathed un harmed un hinged un heartbroken.

what to do?

third world war third round

in which raspberry sundae embarks upon an unresearched women's studies 100-esque rant based exclusively upon conjecture and colloquial evidence about the worst drivers on the road. if you have a penis, feel free to read on, but don't be surprised to find broad sweeping generalisations and/or stereotypes fabricated from the ether.

since the beginning of time, there have been differences between men and women.* one of those differences is, of course, expectation of dominion over the immediate (and not so immediate) area.

wtf? you may be thinking? well, i think that millenia of expecting to be treated as superior to women and all other beings have rendered men (specifically men between the ages of 40 - 60) as asshole drivers. drivers of this age group have an unfounded sense that they have dominion over the roads - they drive agressively; don't like to allow people in at merge situations, and honk their horns like fucking jerks if you dare to try and join the flow of traffic in front of them. 75$ of dangerous drivers i have experienced in the past 4 years have been men that fell within this age group - including the two this morning.

news flash, fuckers: if cars are trying to get into your lane and you don't let them you are a) potentially causing accidents and b) absolutely causing traffic snarl ups behind them as they have to slam on their brakes to avoid being hit. second news flash, jerkoffs: you know how when you approach the tunnel and there is hundreds of cars trying to merge into two lanes? fucking move over so that you aren't in the lane they are all trying to get into. if a driver attempts to merge (safely and legally, by the way) in front of you, don't speed up and lay on your horn. MOVE THE FUCK OVER or LET THEM IN.

good luck and good night.











* when i was teaching i used to give out a handout listing 'sentences that would earn you an automatic F on your paper. this was one of them.

route de la slack

ok so it's day two of my three day weekend. i've used the time thus far to see the herbaliser (pretty good), go to the burlesque studio afterparty (frickin' great), take some drugs, drink some beer, not sleep, have sex, go for brunch, go to ikea (the architect bought a fuzzy blanket for me to curl up with when visiting him), watch ufc with the architect, the sister, kiddo & the gang, drink more beer, get to bed early, wake up, make coffee, pancakes (two kinds - blueberry & choc. chip) and bacon for breakfast, organise my itunes, download some music, and laze about. not to bad, so far, i'd say...

today i'm taking the kid to see the trailer park boys, then the sister, the architect, the boss and i are going to hit up the noodle box and then see kasabian at the commodore. this weekend is shaping up to be... monumental. i'm feeling pleased with myself, to say the least.

at breakfast this morning we all sat around the table chatting and eating. it was like family breakfast, complete with the grumpy teenager who could only be coaxed out of bed via the 'wave the bacon under the nose' method. i, of course, currently smell like bacon, which grosses me out, but i'll live, i guess.

so next weekend we are going to seattle to go shopping and have dirty monkey hotel sex. how fun is that? oh and drink wine in the hotel wine bar. can't forget that. anyone out there who knows of fun (you know what i like) nightlife or shopping in seattle? i have never been there for more than a couple of hours, and so know the nordstrom shoe department, but that's about the extent of it. lame, i know, but there it is.

i'd like suggestions, if you have any. i found online a can-can restaurant with nightly revues, so i think that we are going there for dinner (i'm excited, the architect is accomodating), but the night is long when you are young(ish), cute, and not dead broke (not me, i'm always broke. him)

born to blossom bloom to perish

raspberry's friday list of random facts

1. tonight i go see the herbaliser
2. i cancelled my hair appointment for tomorrow
3. i rescheduled it for 3 weeks before my christmas party
4. i'm feeling lazy today
5. pink m&m's have no calories, because when you eat them you are helping to fight breast cancer
6. any chocolate consumed between american thanksgiving and twelfth night has no calories or fat, because it is magic christmas chocolate
7. people who don't celebrate christmas are exempt from that rule
8. the architect is no longer coming to colorado with me. i will be flying solo. anyone who knows of fun things to do in colorado springs should call me asap.
9. ridley wrote me a letter
10. i don't know what to be for hallowe'en

ain't no sex on the radio

is that a real lyric? i don't even know this morning. i look hot in an eighties markie post kinda way, today. i have on this great bat wing black shirt and grey pencil skirt (courtesy of valoo veelage) and new black knee high boots (courtesy the architect). or maybe only i think i look hot, but sheet that's half the battle, right? riiigghhhtttt.

i recall one day a (pretty much former) friend told me that the reason guys don't like me is 'cause i'm too 'styley'. i never did figure out what that meant. i dress well so men won't find me attractive? seemed fishy, to me.

-------------------------------------------
edit:

ha whoops i forgot that i had this open, got distracted by work, and totally abandoned it. it's now almost ten am... such a spaz.

black cats, red dogs, breakfast

so i really want to go to the billy talent/antiflag/moneen show, but i fear that i might be too old.

why do i think this? well, 'cause i'm not sure that any of my friends would want to go (the architect notwithstanding - he'd probably do it if i really wanted to, but whether or not he WANTS to is another issue). as well, the thought of being surrounded by 10,000 angst ridden teenagers hurts me inside.

at what point do you become to old for punk (even pop-punk) shows? ever? i didn't go to rancid, bad religion, or alexisonfire for pretty much the same reasons. (as an aside, i picked the kiddo up after the alexisonfire show, and was reminded of why i didn't accompany him - horde after horde of pubescent boys roving commercial drive in beer-and-weed fueled packs...)

maybe it's around about the same time that you find yourself struggling to complete your performance self-appraisal. i'm having a bitch of a time with it, because the first section asks me to list my key performance factors, then rate my acheivement of these objectives. since i don't really have a formal job description (we joke that it would just say 'other duties as required') i'm having trouble figuring out whether or not i've managed to acheive my fiscal objectives.

le sigh.

as another side note, guess which super lucky sundae is getting her very own ohmibod? i haven't got much experience with power tools - in fact, up until saturday (ha, yup. this sundae girl received a "cordless personal massager with infrared heat" as well as a pair of super-hot black boots as prezents this weekend) i'd never owned one. the thought of making playlists designed to get me off as quickly or as slowly or as intensly as i feel like is just fucking awesome. as is the thought that the architect ordered it for me. on friday. while we were getting drunk on (rather decent) red wine with my boss. MY BOSS.

ha that rocks.

from the wine guru

at more is less... the pitchfork review of the new jet album: click this shit

heh.

one guy's wasted and the other's a waste

ok so i'm really glad that i have a long weekend again *next* weekend, 'cause i need it to recover from *this* weekend. saturday we went to see that body world thingy at science world - it's really cool. if you are in or around the vancouver (or the coat) area, you should really check it out. i found it very humbling, and very, in a way, humanizing. there's really no way to be deluded into believing that you are in anyway better than or superior to anyone else once you spend an afternoon in the company of bodies with their skin removed.

sunday was another massive thanksgiving dinner - i tried to keep it under ten this year - really really i did. ended up with thirteen regardless, and made massive amounts of food, including homemeade lamb sausage rolls, brie in puffpastry, and all sorts of other yummy goodies. arg i'm tired just thinking about it. i basically cooked for 12 hours on sunday.

friday night we are going to see the sweet soul burlesque cabaret with the herbaliser, and sunday is kasabian. next weekend we go to seattle for our 'romance package' weekend away (the architect cringes every time he says that). one of these weekends i might actually get some rest...

so one of my colleagues has changed her hours so that she comes in about the same time as i do. normally this wouldn't bother me too much, except that she tends to spend the first half an hour she's here talking about well, let's not kid, nothing in particular. maybe this is what that chick meant when she said that i didn't know how to be a friend to women - i just can't handle the maintenance niceties. i will talk to you about my day and my weekend, but later - after i've had a chance to drink my coffee, check to see what's happening in the outside world, settle in. i can't do the after work phone calls to see if you are ok. i don't really care too much about your personal dramas, or the chaos your cats caused this morning, or blah blah blah. actually, no - that's not completely true. i DO care - i just want to hear broad strokes, not every single detail, and i don't need 20minutes of buildup. i'm a smart girl. i catch on pretty quickly.

hm. it appears that i may be a touch grumpy, this morning. interesting.

crap i forgot my mobile at home. shit. shocking, i know, to think that i've forgotten something....

i see you baby

so last night, as i was washing dishes, the architect decided that it would be great fun to haul down my skirt, cover my ass with bubbles, and take a picture. le sigh. i'm just glad the kiddo had to work. can you imagine *that* conversation?

strap on my ear goggles and i'm ready to go

the architect hung out at my house yesterday 'cause my car is acting up so he was taking a look at it. he was hanging out in my room surfing the net when the kiddo got himself up for school, and commented on the wide variety of music emanating (at some god-forsaken decible, i'm sure) from his bedroom. i kinda take that as a compliment - i think it's because he's always been exposed to such a vast range of musical styles that he can flip from tek to deathmetal to new metal to hip hop to acoustic college alt-rock to post rock within one playlist. mind you, i guess i kinda do the same thing.

for example, here is some stuff i'm listening to lately. not all of it is new, or even recent, but some of it is.

1) essential mix - krafty kuts (broadcast feb 05)
2) route de la slack - swayzak (via recommendation on more is less
3) fabriclive 06 - grooverider
4) tool - 10000 days
5) fabriclive 28 - evil nine
6) rinocerose - schizophonia (you know - that cubicle song from the ipod commercial)
7) the be good tanyas - chinatown

one of my favourite things about the internet is that i can hear something, get online, and find tonnes more stuff by that artist, or similar to that artist, or completely opposite from that artist, with a few mouseclicks. or, for example, ask 'what're you guys listening to?' and get a whole bunch of stuff i would have probably never heard of otherwise.

so, 'what're you guys listening to?'


=) xoxo

The radical reconstruction of the south after the Civil War was neither radical nor a reconstruction. Discuss

so i spent the weekend helping the architect move, 'cause i'm a sweet raspberry and, if you ask me to, i'll do such things for you. heck even if you *don't* ask i'll usually do them, 'cause that's how i roll.

so anyway, on friday i quietly (or not so quietly 'cause i'm not the most mousey of characters) i worked my way through a bottle of wine and packed his kitchen for him, whilst clad in a tshirt and a thong. how many men get to say that? prolly not too many out there. saturday we moved his crapola, and sunday was a day of rest amen.

now, as is the case when anyone moves, once he was in he realized there was a bunch of crap he needed - hardware stuff. so after dinner on sunday, we pottered off to home depot to pick up a few things. now it must have been four, maybe five hours since we'd had sex so i was clearly all worked up and ready to go again. what to do, seeing as how we are in a hardware store? why handicapped bathroom, of course.

the architect is not as .. er .. well versed in displays of semi-public lewdness as i am. (i'm not sure if that's a sad statement of his past, or mine, but that's a topic for another day.) so anyway, we're in, door's locked, and i've got him pushed up against the wall, cock in my mouth. he's lovingit, naturally. then, over the loudspeaker, comes this booming heavily accented highly pitched female voice. i guess home depot closes at 8pm on sundays. who knew?

well, no worries - it's just a quickie anyway. i soldier on.

well, that is, until linda richman decides to park herself outside the bathroom door and complain bitterly about ... to be honest with you i have no fucking idea 'cause i couldn't actually hear *what* she was saying over the shrieking. i mean, buttah, her voice was. ahem. in my head i'm praying 'just shut up - only ten minutes - just shut up'. the architect, however, lost his focus. poor fellow. he may never again be able to look at another handicapped washroom without doubting his manhood.

the ability to reason that wears so thin

so last night the kiddo went to see rancid. i did not, but seethed quietly in jealous pudding. i did, however, go grocery shopping with my mum. you can see as how those two things are comparable, right?

riiiiggghhhttt.....

anyhoo, as we were pottering about the market like two old ladies at the church bake sale, i received a call from my offspring:

static-static-noise "pink with a big skull and crossbones!"
'what?' i asked.
static-noise-"really cool!" noise-noise "skull!" static-static
'oh, cool!' i responded enthusiastically, assuming that he was telling me that he was going to borrow money off a buddy to get a shirt and asking if i'd slide him the cash for it later.
static-static "you want it?"
'uh, sure!' i say, getting confused now.
"ok it's yours!" and he hangs up.

so the end result of this fractured conversation is that he got paid yesterday (this child with actual money of his own to spend thing is a great gig - i highly recommend it). he saw a pink zippy rancid hoody with a huge skull and crossbones on the back. and bought it for me. how sweet is my boy?

you know i'm fly you think i'm gettin high

ug i have girlie cramps today. this is why guys read girls' blogs, isn't it? to learn about the detailed workings of the female anatomy?

yeah that's what i thought.

you know, one of the coolest things about dating guys in their thirties is that they've been around females for a really long time. most of them have been in major relationships - they are not usually fazed by the icky bits anymore, and usually they are quite sympathetic.

punkrock boy resurfaced last night for his regular 'every three months or so' booty call. i declined the opportunity. look at me go. of course he promptly proceeded to tell me exactly what he would do to me if i changed my mind *fans self*. i remained firm in my resolve, however, and stayed home to watch tv and talk with the architect on the ehm-ess-ehn. now that it gets dark at 7pm i don't feel guilty about lying around in my pjs, drinking tea and chatting on the 'net.

ok - must work, and find some way to drug myself into not caring that my belly is trying to rip itself apart....

random confession #2

i generally bawl my eyes out at the end of 'cold case'. no idea why.

i think that the next time i hear that a fugitive is making a 'run for border', i, as an unarmed project manager, am going to walk off the job.

i remember when, i remember when i lost my mind

you know, i'm still not sure if i like that song or not. yes, i realize it's been a year. i'm just... undecided.

sat down on the architect's couch this afternoon - we'd gone for brunch and a shopping wander - and woke up 2.5 hours later. guess i needed a nap. i hate doing that though - it was a beautiful day and i feel as though i completely wasted it. bothers me to no end.

so friday night we went to see james murphy and the juan mclean at celebrities downtown. the evening started off well enough - naked rolling around, then drinks at a friends, then headed off to the club. the first dj (no idea who it was. anyone else there?) was pretty good, and the juan mclean was great. james murphy started off promisingly enough but, as the evening progressed, he either got drunk, lazy, or apathetic, (or, of course, all of the above) because i haven't heard so many trainwrecks since dj mm was first starting out and was throwing parties in his living room. as clarina pointed out, it seemed as though it was only a matter of time before he threw down some cc peniston, or maybe some c&c music factory. and we're not talking about in a kitchsy cool 90's dance music revival way. we're talking in a bad small town dance club / stereotypical gay bar / night at the roxbury kind of way. definately a whimper, and absolutely not a bang.

afterwards the architect, clarina, d-rod and i all headed down to spanish banks with some blankets and lay out on the beach, looked at the stars and listened to music. there's not too many places in the world where your gaze can drift from the cityscape, to the freighters in the harbour, to the mountains resting in the moonlight all with one sweep of the head. it's moments like that when i remember how lucky i am to be here.

so we hung out until 5.30 or so, headed home and napped for a couple of hours, then i hooked up (not like that you freaks) with my sister for some sushi and some shopping. we seem to have mended our fences, which is a really good thing. she is the family member i am closest to - i hate not getting along with her.

anyhoo... i'm going to put on my jammies and watch some tv. i'm still kinda sleepy. being up for 24 hours then getting only 3.5 hours sleep will do that to you at my age, i guess....

let's waste time chasing cars

so here it is, friday again. for those of you trapped in the 'lesser' parts of canada, keep in mind that it is going to be sunny and around 20deg. celsius all weekend.

heh - suckers.

mind you this positivity is mitigated by the fact that it will probably start raining sometime mid next week and not stop till.. oh.. say... may of next year.

so tonight we are going to see james murphy of lcd soundsystem / dfa records and i am *so* excited. i need to go dancing. like i NEED to go dancing - i am feeling sluggish. now fall for me is a time of setting into dinner parties and restaurants with friends and warm nights at home wrapped up in a quilt, drinking tea or wine, watching movies. but i still have to get out and shake my skinny white ass once in a while. i dunno - i guess it's just something i need to do once in a while to feel young. funny, huh?

my folks are going to the uk / spain for about a month - my mom for a little less time than my dad - so i'm taking care of the house. i'm pretty excited about it - there are def. worse places to look after. my biggest concern will be the kiddo getting himself up out of bed in time for school every morning, 'cause i sure as heck can't stick around do kick him out the door. well, i guess i could switch my hours up for the time period, but i kind of like this whole getting to work before everyone else, having some time to myself in the morning thing. i like sitting here when the lights are still off, drinking a coffee, reading the news and my horoscope and the funnies. i don't feel like i've started my day correctly when i get in late. i'm not a 'by the book' person, but i do take some comfort in my morning routines.

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.