this just in

So somehow when I was sunning my whalebelly on Sunday I managed to sunburn my ass. Not my whole ass, of course, just the sections surrounding my bikini. While I do have a small ass for someone of my advanced years, I'm not quite brave enough to bare it to the world in Balboa Park.

Now, though, I kinda look like the cross section of a radish. It's not a good look. Just sayin'.

Of course the chances of anyone actually seeing it to appreciate the essential radish-ness of said posterior are slim to none, unless I accidentally (heh) forget to lock the door to the ladies room at work tomorrow. Nothing like that frisson of workplace exhibitionism to really add spice to the job.

In seperate yet not unrelated news, I'm headed up to the desert for a minibreak this weekend. Sadly I shan't be accompanied by Hugh Grant, his voluptuous head of hair or his sporty convertable. Just some girls from work. I'm ok with that though. Who wouldn't be? I mean, of course it would be better if Hugh was coming too,(or, better yet, Dave Grohl) but I'm sure I can get into enough trouble sans Dave. Or Hugh. Or heck, even Jenson Ackles. Who, by the way, was apparently galivanting around Vancouver shirtless last week. This is the shit that happens when I leave town. Assholes.

Let's not kid - all three would be best because, heck, a girl's got needs and variety is the spice of life and all that crap. And I just decided that J.Ackles would not be allowed to wear a shirt the enitre time. In fact, he may never be allowed to wear a shirt again.

You are welcome.

around the internets

Ok so I'm home sick in bed and I finished my novel at the beach yesterday and am way to depressed to read David Foster Wallace (currently my brain is functioning at a level incapable of anything more complex than eating chocolate ice cream out of the container with my fingers) I've been surfing the innerwebs looking for something to amuse myself.

I found this blog that I'm loving (people are so much better than I am) which led me to this post. I know that I don't really have many readers left (the whole once a year posting thing is a bit much to force on even the most loyal web-friends) but in case you are out there, check it out. Oh. Not if you are a boy. You will run screaming into the night before the end. Trust.


**edit**
Also this one - very boy-friendly, though if you are sensitive about your (or your children's) half assed hallowe'en costumes you should give it a miss. And take the pickle out of your bum.

Gut check time (result - soft and squishy and unhappy)

As I lounged at the park yesterday I had to stop and contemplate wtf has happened to my life. A year ago I was broke but really pretty fucking happy. The architect and I had a great relationship, I was bored as hell sitting at home all the time but I felt like I had a home, at least.

Now, though, the architect and I are separated and don't know if we can work things out. I have a job that I mostly really enjoy but pays a pittance so I'm faced with finding a new apartment (can't afford the rent at Chateau Wyatt Earp on my own)so will still be broke, but am not happy and don't feel like I have a home.

How the fuck did I end up here? I'm 38 years old. I miss my family, especially my kid. Why can't I be happy? What is fucking wrong with me?

Home sick today because I woke up with a stress headache at 4am. Took some painkillers but they hurt my stomach so here I am.

proper workplace bathroom etiquette

Riddle me this, loyal readers.

Yes all two of you.

I understand that there are times when you have to "use the bathroom" when you are at work. You know, "USE the bathroom". While (imho) such activities are best confined to your own personal bathroom, in the comfort of your own personal home, I allow for emergencies. Shit, so they say, happens.

However, and this is a big one, what kind of person leaves the bowl anything less then pristine? There's a container of soap right there. There's a toilet brush RIGHT THERE. Who are you? Where were you raised? Did your mother teach you nothing?

Swear to god I've cleaned more toilets since starting this job than I did in the entire year previous. *shudders*. I have no desire to bask in your atomized e.coli, believe it or not, and I'd really prefer it if you would take care of your own business, after you take care of business.

Thanks very much.

stinkin' facebook

Seriously.

Not that I'm an addict or anything, or that I rely on Facebook to schedule my private life and keep in touch with pretty much everyone I've ever met (or not met, what with some blog-friends being up in there as well) but the past couple of weeks my account had been "unavailable due to site maintenance" or other issue and it's driving me off the frickin' edge of the world I swear to dog.

And this blog post has been brought to you by Social Media, in its bid to take over the world.

Other than that... went for drinks last night at a local beer / pizza joint and had a grand time. I think it's fair to say that most of our money worries have been more or less resolved. While I loved being able to sit about the house in my jim-jams most days, life sans paycheque was getting a bit stressful. I mean, the only thing the architect and I ever argue about (aside from my occasional drunk belligerency) is money so it was a bit rough at the end, there.

Now we're talking about buying a house and going out with friends for dinner and I've started to re-build my boot collection so it really feels as though all is good in the world.

Especially the boot part.

Having just finished Julie & Julia, I decided to make Oeufs en Cocotte for breakfast. I'm not actually using Julia's recipe 'cause it's not the first one that turned up in the search on the google-machine but I still feel as though it counts. They smell good (and fat-drenched but that's beside the point) so that's something.

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

Hi, Vince - nice to know I still have a reader out there, somewhere. I had the good fortune to meet up with him for lunch when he was passing through SD. Oh and I went back to that Thai place when our office took our department out for lunch and the wait was equally long, despite the restaurant's echoing chambers. So there's that.

...

Oh.

Hi, blog.

Long time no visit. I'd like to say that I'm taking this opportunity to get back on the wagon, and make all kinds of grand pronouncements about devotion to daily writing and crap like that, but let's be honest with each other, shall we? I'm busy. Things will probably never be the same between us - I don't have a crazy lifestyle worth writing about; you don't care to hear about my boring every day lifestyle.

But you are my blog, goshfukkit and if I feel like boring your pants off, well then heck I will.

So there.

yeah so

Two months down the road and not much has changed. I'm a year older and a year dumber and same old.

Distressing news for those of you who have been following the life of the kiddo. After breaking up with his high school sweetheart he took up with a party girl and lost himself head over heels. Sadly, though, he fell back into his party ways and has been delving a bit too deeply.

Now she's dumped him and he's bereft and I'm hearing it all second hand, of course, because I'm thousands of miles away and I don't know what to do. I feel like crying and puking my guts out and tearing out my hair but of course none of those things are helpful.

Any words of advice or whatever would be appreciated.

Pdjjaaag

Fireworks and charred meat

Another semi-eventful US birthday celebration spent here in the bear republic. We didn't actually do too much - pulled our bbq out onto the sidewalk/lawn in front of our apartment and chilled with drinks and some neighbours - but it was a good time. We all talked about doing it more often. I have to admit it reminded me of being back home on the front balcony with the sister and the architect, except all that could be heard from three sides was the distant boom boom thrump of fireworks.

The fourth side was, of course, my fancy new MGMT Pandora station. Have I mentioned how much I love Pandora? And Jian Ghomeshi, despite some apparent internet backlash against him. Granted this backlash is half a decade old. Is he a douchebag? Or was all that controversy mitigated by Billybobgate? And he was in Moxy Fruvous? Who knew? Does this change how I feel?

Well not really, since the basis of my deep emotional thrust towards Toronto is based entirely on three words: "Well hi there". I don't actually need to listen to the rest of the program, as long as I have heard that. Sad but true.

Summertime CBC

Happy day after Canada Day! Though technically it's not a holiday, here, I am unemployed so was free to sleep off my hangover, eat PB & Banana sammiches in my chonies, and get crumbs in the bed before heading down to San Diego's only real option as a Canadian bar - an Irish pub owned by someone from Vancouver.

We drank Labatt's Blue and Moosehead (neither of which I'd ever drink in Canada, btw), I handed out dollar store Canada pencils, and had a jolly good time.

Things I've (re-)learned about myself whilst listening to the Ceeb this AM:

1) So they were playing a documentary about living on Fair Isle off the coast of Scotland and I was reminded of how I have a strong desire to live in the middle of nowhere in a small place. I mean, I'm a city girl but at the same time I've got just enough granola in my sushi to make me yearn for a simpler life. Of course I have a total black thumb and am seriously addicted to dinners out and easily accessible cheap red wine so I've no idea how that would work.

2) I have a crush on Jian Ghomeshi(sp) that is based entirely on how he says "well hi there" at the beginning of Q every day. Yes I'm a loser.

Tenuous grasp fingertips of mortality

I had a phone message this morning from a former neighbour. I guess one of the other fellows who lived there passed away yesterday, after spending 8 days in a coma. I don't know any details, just that his husband is trying to sort out all the details and deal with everything and that a fantastic human being isn't here anymore.

I have to admit that I feel a bit guilty. This man was a caring human being who did his best to make us feel welcome when we lived in that little complex and I feel like we didn't do enough to show our appreciation or friendship. You always think that you should call or visit, and then you get caught up in what you are doing and it slips your mind. No big deal, you think, I'll pop in the next time I'm in the area.

Actually I thought that exact thing on Thursday, when I was at the salon down the street. I should pop over and see if anyone is around... say hi... but I didn't. Of course, by that point it was too late, and Chris was already in a coma that he wasn't going to wake up from. I didn't know that, though, and maybe his husband would be there and need a hug or just a quiet ear.

It is almost a miracle that they managed to get married during the short time it was legal here in California, since he spent his last 8 days in ICU. His husband had to show the hospital their marriage certificate just to get into see him.

That's two people I've met in SD who have passed away this summer. Is it the age? Now that I'm in my mid 30s my friends and acquaintances are going to start dropping like flies? Ick.

Just beat it.

Am I the only one who's already tired of hearing about Michael Jackson's untimely death? I can't possibly be. It's all over twitter, the facebook, the rest of the innerwebs, and even my beloved CBC. Sighs.

So I've decided on a name for my little business. For the sake of world's colliding privacy, I shan't post it here, but if you send me a little email I'll send you a link to the in progress website. It is not, by any means, anywhere near completion so be merciful, please.

So we were supposed to go to a little cocktail hour last night for the architect's work, but by the time he got home he was totally tired and not into it. There I was all little black dress & camel leather shoes, pretty hair & perfume, not a dinner preparation in sight and he wants to veg on the couch.Fortunately I've become a recent convert to a big salad with a poached or soft boiled egg on top, so we had that for dinner along with some bruschetta, and it all turned out awesome. Since I've been unemployed I've been making increasingly elaborate meals during the week - it's not like I've got much else to do, after all - and I kind of forgot how sometimes a light, simple meal can be super satisfying.

Not that I'm turning this into a food blog, or anything, just sayin'.

Stretch out your legs and dance with me

After an extremely low key yet somehow rather rewarding weekend I find myself unwilling to make the transition to my day to day weekly routine.

And when I say routine I mean walking to the library and/or grocery store, cleaning, and lounging on the patio vs lounging in my bed.

The idea of actually getting a job is something distant. It's not that I don't *want* to work - I do, and not making my own money is kind of awful - it's that I don't know how I would transition from being on my own slow southern time to being back in the workaday rush rush rush. Plus when would I cook? We'd be eating dinner every night at midnight if I were stuck in the commute home. These are the things I obsess about when I wake up at three am and can't get back to sleep, which has happened the last three nights in a row. Le sigh.

Discombobulated

So I got a facebook message last night from TNB (blast from the past), asking if I would write him a character reference letter.

Since it's not for a job, I assume that it is in reference to some kind of custody thing. I'm happy to do it of course, but I find it a bit ... weird isn't the right word. Interesting works, but in the old Chinese curse sense of the word. May you live in interesting times, indeed.

I need a name for my little business venture. I have some ideas for business cards (similar to the new blog header up top, there), stationery, advertising etc, but need a name before I can go much farther than that. Any suggestions would be welcome in the comments. My first instinct is to avoid the raspberry motif, but then it is something I am fond of, so who knows.

What a way to make a living

It occurs to me that it's time to consolidate the random things I've been doing and considering 'side projects' into one cohesive entity and call it a business. Really, if I were to market myself and the odds n sods of things I do (marketing, client database management, email blasts) I could probably bring in a small but regular income.

I have, of course, various self esteem issues that make me think this won't work but I'm not having any real luck with the job acquisition, I do want something that lets me make my own hours, and the economy sucks enough that where folks don't want to hire full time people they do look for temps. So why can't I be that person?

Sure it wouldn't get me out of the house, much, but if I keep my social life strong and schedule enough meetings so that I can wear fun shoes (I miss my fun shoes) I should be happy. Plus I could still do my crazy walks a couple of times a week. I do enjoy those.

It's not the best time to be starting a business, of course, but it's not the best time to be doing anything, really, and I don't need to start making a tonne of money right away so I have that security. It's either this or apply at Target or Albertsons and I'm not sure I'm ready to destroy my soul that completely.

Yet, anyway.

cupcake siren song

So the lovely lady who made our wedding cake had a birthday party last night, and celebrated by filling an entire dining room table with desserts to share with her friends. Oh and she made carnitas for tacos as well, and her mom brought homemade salsa (yes, they are Mexican). I did a lap of the dessert table, ate some tacos, then did two more laps of the dessert table. Washed the works down with several glasses of extremely tasty Malbec and rolled my way home.

And I wonder why I can't lose weight? Heh.

In my defense, I came home with a takeaway full of cupcakes & cake & other treats and have managed to resist them thus far this AM. Oh except for one chocolate covered strawberry, which sucked me in as I dug in the fridge for my leftover barley brunch. See I was *trying* to be good...

*sigh*

Didn't get the job. They went with a temp.
Fuck.

Progress

So I had a job interview yesterday... it's basically an office manager position with a smattering of proofreading, marketing support, and administration. Basically a mixed bag of stuff that would be different every day and right up my alley.

I can imagine I'd be extremely exhausted for the first weekmonth, after being unemployed for a year and a half, but hell. I'd also be veritably loaded. The thought of being able to go shopping on payday and pick myself up a little something cute, the way I used to with Ms U every other Friday, makes me grin rather excessively.

I wore my fancy new interview suit - it had to impress, right? I felt a bit unsure of the whole experience when I came out but my secret inside source said they really liked me, so here's hoping they don't have many other people to compare me too. I was nervous.

What, me, nervous? Never!

I also seriously overspent in VanCity - I treated the kiddo to brunch & drinks, then bought him a bunch of groceries and some treats. Add this to the general expenses that come with a bit of a vacation and you come up with a broke sundae. At least if I'm working full time I won't feel so guilty about spending all of our money and putting us in a tight spot until payday. Sigh.

OK got to get moving - got my walk this AM and I need to not be still in my jammies when she shows up....

These boots were made for

Ug so my friend and I do this walk. It's almost 6miles long and involves a frickin serious hill. Because of the brother visiting, then being sick as a dog, we haven't gone in a month.

A month is a long time to talk off from walking 6miles of hills. Today, I kind of felt like I was going to yak most of the way home. Lord.

I've added a couple of links to the blogroll on the side. One is my little brother who's recently started to write again, much to my joy and delight.

The second is one that I found via someone else's link list and is quite heartbreaking and well written. It has the level of personal introspection and revelation that I think I *used* to manage but haven't lately. Check it out.

Tonight we go to see The Constantines! I'm very excited even though I seriously overspent in Vancity so have no cash left for drinks or tshirts or anything of that ilk. If I get some good photos I'll be sure to post.

Dude.

So I'm going to Vancouver tonight and I wish there was some way I could drop 10 el-bees off my gut/face/tits between now and then. Since I've moved here I've gained easily that much and I want it gone.

Sadly, though, I lack the drive to actually get out and run my ass around the town, so it's probably not going anywhere.

The problem with facebook and its ilk is that a)you get weird feelings when you see what your ex-boy/girlfriends are doing and b)you can see how hot and skinny you USED to be.

Let's address those issues, shall we?

a) The exboyfriends. I think that people get into trouble because the grass is always greener. You have some poor shlub/shlubbette who can see that Mr/Ms ex is looking good and happy and they forget that they're flatulent, boorish bedhogs. We have weird access into the lives of people who should be left behind. They aren't the ones who got away, they are the ones you left in your wake for a reason. BTW - I'm not addressing myself here, in case some of you are concerned. I mean, I do have odd twinges when I see one or two of the exes looking good, but I think that's pretty normal. I'm thinking of a friend who re-connected with someone recently and ended up rushing into the emotional side of stuff, without much provocation. Her girly brain took over, she read things into their communication, and she basically lived out a relationship in her brain, without him having a clue. Bummer.

b) Fuck I used to be hot and skinny. Now I'm fat & heiferlike. Dude, seriously. It really is depressing the heck out of me. So what do I do? Why, soothe myself with wine and chocolate, of course. Fuck. FUCK. I would like to get a gastric band, or take some diet pills or something. I can't get my ass up to exercise - I hate that shit I really do - and starving myself is even harder. I actually miss my allergies - at least when I was puking everything up I was skinny. Sigh.

Oh yeah I know it's been a month. Sorry. I have problem B with the blog, too - it's like I go back and remember how hot and witty I used to be and now I find myself lacking. I'm having fucked up self esteem issues with both my meat world and wide world personas. Nice, huh?