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?

#canucks, #swineflu

Ooooo look at me mixing medias. You know - what with the twitter format of my post title. Yeah.

It's really no wonder that I have trouble keeping up with the bloggity. I mean, even with being unemployed I feel media saturated half the time - there's the twitter and the facebook and the gchat and the scratching. Oh ok maybe not the scratching, but my google reader sure as heck takes up a lot of my time.

So I'm still unemployed. Well, I mean I've been doing freelance graphic design stuff, yeah, but that's it. It's not really enough to pay the bills, that's for sure. I do wish I could find enough editting/graphic design work to fund myself because I really dig making my own schedule, but I don't think that's practical.

I've got my name in with a recruiter and they've got a contract for me, but the company requires the world's most frustrating background check *ever*. Well I guess it wouldn't be frustrating if I weren't stuck between Canada & the US but getting info between the two countries is not easy. Oh and they keep sending me new forms to fill out. Stupid.

It makes me totally nervous, though - like what if my crappy credit causes me to get rejected for a job? How weaksauce / ironic would that be? I mean, duh I've got crappy credit - I've been unemployed for a year and a half. Hire me and let's get to work on that, hm?

Anyhoo.... As a complete aside, every time I hear the news refer to Janet Napolitano (US Secretary of Homeland Security) I think they are talking about Johnette Napolitano, former vocalist for Concrete Blonde. It's messing with my head, yo.

stupid uterus

OK so am I the only person who spends two days each month longing for menopause? *SERIOUSLY*.

I've been a bad blogger again. I find it really hard to get into the groove of writing every day... It's funny but somewhere in my head I began to doubt myself. I went from chronicling every pimple and orgasm to thinking "aw no one wants to hear about that garbage". How am I so much less narcissistic than I used to be? Is it because I'm fat and happy, instead of thin and miserable?

Oh speaking of not being thin anymore, I am beginning to realize that the fat probably also has something to do with the fact that I don't yak up 4/7 meals anymore. I mean, I still throw up far more than the average Joe, but the involuntary bulimia really is no more. Yay for being able to eat eggs again! Boo for needing a new bikini because the knockers refuse to be contained!

exorcise me

So it's Good Friday which is a much bigger deal in Canada than it is in the US. I have no idea why - Puritan heritage? Stubborn refusal to embrace the three (or four) day weekend?

Either way.

Someone on the CBC is talking about exorcisms and the modern Catholic Church. I guess in Italy there are 300-400 alone. In 2005, 500K people came to see an exorcism. I wonder if these people really need exorcisms, or if they just need a hug? I dunno. I'm not sure I believe in the fact that people can be possessed by evil spirits. I mean, I *do* believe that it can happy, but 500K in one year?

I'd like to exorcise myself from the ghosts of my past. It's funny how sometimes they start rattling around in my head like ebenezer's spirits, brandishing their chains and moaning about wrongs inflicted and received. Last night was one of those nights - an inbox full of memories, not all of them good.

(The CBC has switched from exorcism to organic farming. Are they trying to say something about something being full of shit? No comment from this peanut)

Parklife

So I'm sitting in a cafe in my *old* hood waiting to go to work at the salon. I had previously scheduled a hot n heavy breadbaking lesson but got called in around 10pm last night. Sadly, my finances are not as of yet such that I can decline $70 in favour of wine and baking.

*sigh*

At any rate, I'm here in the cafe. The guy behind the counter is cute in a slight, might be gay, is definitely married way, so I have at least a bit of eye candy whilst I wait.

I could probably wander over there now, but would have to make conversation with the nail tech who, though nice, isn't really the most interesting person on the planet.

Downside to being a receptionist in a hair/nail salon: listening to the stylists tell the same story to each of their clients with very little variation in tone or verbage. Plus side is, of course, that they're all super cool folks and I get to chat with people all day. The cats, though lovely, are nocturnal and tend to nap all day. Not the best company.

This work thing should, though, really start later in the day while still ending early enough for me to enjoy my glass of wine in the late afternoon sun. The architect and I had our first patio/wine/book evening of the spring the other night and it was extremely pleasant. Now we just need a table big enough for dominoes or cards and another one or two people comfortable enough to pop by and enjoy it with us.

Smells like California

So way back in the day I used to have a little jasmine plant in my bedroom, sitting on the ledge by my bed. Now I live in a place where I have a huge hedge worth blooming about 6 feet from my back door. The smell's almost overwhelming, but in a good way.

It seems like everything is so much more alive here: the smells the sounds the light the people the sky. Everything is so much more vivid. I didn't think a smell could be vivid, but I guess it can.

It reminds me a bit of being in Spain: stepping off the plane and being accosted by sweet-scented humidity, so different from anything that I'd ever experienced. I feel that all the time now. California smells good. Quite the change for a girl who grew up surrounded by clouds of polluted air, redolent with sulphur.

Anyone ever make slippers from their cat?

I'm seriously tempted at the moment. The stupid cats decided that this weekend would be a great time to break out their new scheduling - that is, the hours between 2-5AM are devoted to tearing around the apartment like thundering battlecats. 5-6 is for sitting at the back door whining to be let outside (even though they are indoor cats and have limited outdoor time, always on a leash). Oh and somewhere between 12-2 one of the two of them drops a stink in the catbox that is seriously bad enough to wake me up and melt the paint off the walls.

God.

Fucking Mondays. How can I hate Mondays so much even though I'm unemployed? Is it just years of indoctrination? Popular culture has clockwork oranged me into hating Mondays with an supersaturation of Office Space / Bangles / Boomtown Rats references?

Best quote ever (just heard on the CBC during an interview with the Ting Tings): 'fertile ground for whimsy'. Whimsy is word that is not used nearly enough. They kind of remind me of Elastica, a bit, though that might be my 90s scenesterism talking.

Speaking of hipsters, how can you define a social class as hip when they've looked exactly the same since about 1979? And why am I devoting so much though to this issue? It's not as though it's an original thought or anything. I'm sure that people all over the world are currently smoking gauloise cigarettes, drinking black coffee and debating that very fact. (though the actual year - 1979 - at which the 'hipster' look coalesced and froze could be a point of heated debate)

Have I mentioned that I'm on day two of uterine cramps? Like how is it that I'm almost and yet still get pimples and cramps. What kind of fucked up existence is this? All I can say is that I'm fucking proof positive that we are not living in the matrix because some mother fucking female alien would have programmed that shit out.