Archive for January, 2009

Project Runway Canada: WATCH IT!

I am pretty sure I’ll need to add photos to this post to have it make sense, but I’m going to write it up and add the photos later.
Last night was the season premiere of Project Runway Canada. Now on a good day I’m excited for this show, but as it turns out, a friend and former classmate of mine since jr. high is on the show! EXCITING!!! Embarassingly it took me until this past weekend to realize that she was going to be on the show, but then I found out and got all crazy excited. I actually know someone on a reality show. A GOOD reality show! Woo! We even took a bunch of sewing classes together. *brushes shoulder off*
Anyhow, I doubt this shows in the States because it’s a Canadian reality show, but if you are Canadian, I urge you to tune in Tuesdays at 10pm Pacific to Project Runway Canada and cheer for my pal, Adejoke!
You could also go to the website for Project Runway Canada and check out her profile and photos.
I seriously was thisclose to shitting myself when she won the first challenge last night. Iman was all, “I LOVE IT!” and now all I want to do is ask her if Iman smells good. Steve and I agree that she probably smells really nice, sort of spicy and earthy.
But seriously, I am now 3 degrees of separation from David Bowie. WOO!

Stinky Monday

Here we are on a Monday morning and already there has been much debacle. First I get up to have a shower and turn on the tap to NO hot water. Again. What is this, like the 5th time this has happened? You’d think maybe after one or two times they’d figure out what’s happening to the pipes or the heater or whatever and get that shit under control. Maybe they just like to have us suffer, because I think the worst feeling in the world is getting all naked and standing in a puddle of cold water PRAYING for some resemblance of hot, or at least warm water to come out of the faucet.
Alas, I waited in vain, for the water only got even more bone-chillingly cold. You’d think if the hot water was broken that maybe just “room temp” water would come out of the tap. No no, my friends. We are talking scraped straight off an iceberg cold.
So I doused myself in perfume and deodorant and got ready in somehow the exact same amount of time, though I saved myself some time by not showering. Maybe it was because I had to heat up a kettle of water to wash my face?
Now I have to wait yet again to get home to actually get clean. I’m thinking of just saying “eff it” to my whole hair/makeup situation and just having a bath, because it’s just going to be a huge time-waster to have to scrub and re-do everything all over again.
Every time this happens I have the problem of my hands never feeling clean. Of all things, my hands! Those I can wash EASILY, but for whatever reason, the lack of showering makes them feel filthy. It sort of reminds me of when you’re baking and your hands get all buttery. I guess that’s what I feel like. Buttery.
Then I got on the elevator and this other dude got on, who, might I add, looked exactly like Robert Pattinson. HOWEVER, he smelled. Because he hadn’t taken a shower either. Not a terrible stink, just sort of a ripeness. Which then made me overly self-conscious that I too, might be just as ripe. BUT I SPRAYED PERFUME ON MYSELF! I CAN’T STINK. But I’m pretty sure I smell, at least a little.
So now the countdown to a shower begins! Only about 6 more hours until I can go home and feel clean again! And if the hot water isn’t back on by then, I am going to officially poop in front of the building manager’s door.

Academy Award Time!

Sorry these posts include no photos, I am attempting to use a WordPress client at my desk to write posts during the week and sadly it doesn’t support photos! Boo. Looks like you’ll be enjoying a lot of words, even though I do loves me pictures!

Academy Award nominations came out this morning, and for the most part I didn’t really see many surprises. Kate Winslet for various movies, Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight, Slumdog Millionare for a bevvy of categories. Then I scrolled down and noticed that somehow Robert Downey Jr. got nominated for his work in Tropic Thunder as Best Supporting Actor. This one sort of stumped me.

Okay, personally I thought Tropic Thunder was hilarious. Should RDJ be in the same category as Heath Ledger? Probably not. I also never thought I’d see the phrase “Academy Award Nominee Robert Downey Jr.” But I also never thought I’d see him in a popular movie. Though I also thought this about Johnny Depp, and he’s now filming the 4th Pirates of the Caribbean movie, so who am I to judge?!

I think the only films I’ve seen that are nominated for Best Picture were The Wrestler and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Both excellent movies, both worth a watch. I never manage to see all the films nominated, but I can’t say I’ve ever been disappointed by watching a nominated film. Like last year when I watched No Country for Old Men and There Will be Blood. I didn’t immediately think that I’d want to see either of those films, but they were both really excellent. If there are movies that have been nominated this year that maybe aren’t really your cup of tea, I challenge you to see those movies, because I think that the Best Picture category is always a pool of seriously wonderful movies.

I also would like to suggest that out of these movies, if you grew up in the 80s, you should see The Wrestler. Even if you don’t like wrestling. Okay, maybe you should like it a little, because, you know, they actually WRESTLE in the movie. I used to watch it with my dad all the time on the weekend and that’s one of my favorite memories about being a kid (seeing as my parents got divorced when I was 9).

Or maybe I just like watching grown men hug each other in spandex. Either way it’s a winner.

Twitter is good on a day like today

Audio stream of President Obama’s speech:

Amazing tweet grid featuring up to the second posting on twitter about Obama:

Full text of Obama’s speech:

Epic. Bummer.

So I get back from buying a sammich on my lunch break and am not really looking as I walk up the building steps, but blam, there’s a pigeon absolutely FREAKING OUT at the entrance. At first I think it’s just a random bird flipping out, and then I notice that its wing is hurt and it can’t fly.
Then I run through how I can save the bird, but that most people hate pigeons, so that’s not going to help the situation. So I have to leave the bird downstairs in the entry and go upstairs to call animal control. I call animal control and they tell me not to touch the bird, to let nature take its course.
This is different than what I was told by the SPCA a few weeks ago when Steve found one outside, but I suppose animal control is where the animals inevitably go for care when they aren’t domestic, so I had to leave the bird downstairs. I think it fell down the stairs, too, which is even more depressing to think about.
Not that I can go and rescue a bird and take it home with me…clearly I can’t, but I felt so helpless looking at this bird flap around. Oh lord. So sad.
I’m sure in Vancouver pigeons get killed all the time because there are so many of them, but it’s a terrible feeling seeing an animal in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

Denny’s makes my bum rumble.

I just wanted to make a quick post and say that the serial morning pooper is back again. This time it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe it was as bad, but it was a different stink. Or maybe everyone on this floor had a bad bout of food poisoning this weekend.
Actually, that might make more sense, because I tried to go for Japanese yesterday, but the little restaurant was full, so we went to Denny’s and I thought it was fine, but later on in the evening when I was giving Steve a haircut I had to stop like 4 times because I had such bad stomach pain. Then I had a really bad poop myself.
Denny’s = bathroom FAIL.
“Pardon me dear, but I feel like I am going to shit my pants, can you please leave the bathroom half way through your haircut and let me have a terrible poop, and then come back in and let me finish? Great!”
This man loves me for letting that scenario actually play out my friends.
I think I’m okay today, but as I type this I realize I still have a small gurgling in my stomach, so I don’t know if it’s over yet…
Maybe *I* will turn into the terrible morning pooper! Well, if I keep eating at Denny’s I probably will.
Which reminds me, when we were seated, we got sat in probably the most depressing section of that restaurant with all the really old people and these older couples that looked bummed to even sit with one another.
In particular, there was this couple behind Steve that were a total drain to even look at. The husband was reading the paper at the table and not talking to his wife, and the wife was seriously sitting at the table with her eyes shut and a frown permanently etched on her face. Looking at that kind of shit just makes me want to slap both of those people and say, “Look, maybe you’d better call it a day on this relationship, or else you’d both better start actually speaking to one another! I can’t take it!” I hope to high heaven that I don’t end up like that, but I have a good feeling I won’t. I just look at people like that and think, ‘how did it come to this?!” You live in a really exciting city, but you’re sitting in a Denny’s reading a paper and not talking. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!

80% Sure it’s a Woman

I can’t figure out if it was the constant waking up last night, or the dogs standing on my hair this morning that gave me this slow burn of a headache. Outrageous! Oh well, I’ve taken two of those fast-acting Tylenol, oh right right, “Rapid Release,” which almost rapidly-released in my mouth because I didn’t swallow them right away. Apparently too much Advil will kill you or something, so now I’m onto Tylenol. Wait, I bet it’s just because I cancelled my chiro this week. The Dr. is somehow killing me using his magical chiro telepathy. What a goon!
Also, I forgot to water the plants at work this week on Monday, so I hauled ass to the bathroom to fill the watering can and when I opened the door I got slapped in the face with a burst of terrible, evil post-poop smell. I hate smelling anyone’s old poop smell, especially when you can tell by the smell that it was a really awful poop. I don’t know how I can tell, I just can. It is my gift. It is my curse. I guess if you’re going to have a terrible poop, it’s going to be first thing, but it seems like every time I go into that bathroom right when I get to work, someone has had an awful poop. I should leave a note explaining,

“To the person having terrible shits in this bathroom in the morning:

Let’s talk about your diet. This isn’t normal.



But you know what? I don’t think I want to know who it is. Would it make it better? I am 80% sure it’s a woman, unless some man is just going to the larger ladie’s bathroom to take a dump. Which, I happen to think is 20% likely.

I’ll catch you one day, mystery pooper.

January 2009
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