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.

Mad about Desk Jobs

It might just be me, but I find that I feel like I’m wasting a lot of time, or rather wasting away when I have to sit at a desk all day. It’s not like I’m not getting things done while I’m at my desk, I guess my mind just gets a little uptight and anxious when I have to sit all day. Which just happens to be 5 days a week.
There are really pros and cons to both customer service jobs and desk jobs, and I just think it’s the individual that decides which is more interesting for them. Not that we’re all working in the industry that we’d like to be anyhow, but I think we all know which we prefer.
Though I will say that with so many pros and cons to each side of the coin, it’s sort of hard for me to say which I prefer. I miss working in customer service because as much as there are terrible, TERRIBLE customers out there, at least I was DOING something all day. Except the slow periods. That shit was the WORST.
And then there are the pros of office work. I get to dress nicely, I get my own computer, I have instant access to the internet, and I don’t have to deal with those shitty customers.
But I think it’s maybe the solitude that I dislike. Not that I am really alone. I guess it’s more being alone in a room full of other people. It sort of feels unnatural. Like when you’re in junior high on a date and you think you’re supposed to hold hands but you’re so nervous your hands get all cold and sweaty, and then you just end up going the entire date without touching. Oh how I don’t miss those days! But then again, no one should go on a date in jr high. Unless you want to practice failing at a lame relationship. Which I did!
I guess it could also be the type of office job you have. I tend not to produce anything tangible, so I never see my work, which makes me feel like I am not contributing, when really, I look after the whole office, so that’s a lot of work.
The fear for me comes when I think that I’ll end up at a desk the rest of my life and it will never amount to anything substantial in society. But is that really what it’s going to take to make me happy? I don’t know. I know I’ve had some really rewarding days in nonprofit organizations, but I’ve also learned a lot about graphic design. Enough to know that I likely should have gone to school for it, but would I really want to step back into school now and get yet another degree? Not really. A Masters? Eh. Not unless it was somehow in something I could really call my own, because clearly they don’t offer Masters in nonprofit.
It seems like the first step is always the most difficult one to make.

At least 2″ of Crack.

I’ve finally discovered why the right knee on my jeans wears out so fast: the shorter leg! The shorter leg’s knee doesn’t touch the ground as hard as the longer leg, and then BAM, the knee disintegrates on the right side. This happened to my favorite pair of jeans about 2 months ago, which sent me on this long rampage of trying to find that exact pair of jeans again, which didn’t work out. Which is just the way the universe likes to stick it to me. It likes me walking around in bizarre pants.
So after a month of looking I decide, hey, let’s try raw denim, that way, I’ll get a personal fit and the pants will stretch to my exact size.
In theory, this should work, however, I have a tiny waist and apparently quite meaty thighs, thus making it nearly impossible to stretch these damn pants. I bought a small size to make sure that I’d bust them up properly (they are supposed to be uncomfortable when you first get them). So I was walking around with my button fly pushed to the max for a while, and it seems to be settling down now. But really, my pants just want to slide right off my body. Having very womanly thighs leaves me to buy pants that are usually just a tad big on my hips, so then if I buy skinny jeans they pretty much want to slide right off of me.
This is why I miss my poor Levi’s. Shit those were good. Well, I mean I didn’t get rid of them, because frankly the hobo look is coming back into style, so ripped jeans are apparently going to be all the rage again in spring/summer 09. I might as well take sandpaper to the remaining leg of those jeans and really be looking sweet.
But then again, you know what else is apparently coming back into style? Showing your midriff. Great. Now that skinny pants are here for a while, let’s just show everyone our muffin tops, too. Why not go for the deuce, right? You know what? I hate midriffs. I don’t want to prance around downtown Vancouver showing my midriff in a cutoff top.
What happened to high-waisted jeans?! I thought those were in?! How are they out already??? You know why I don’t like midriffs? Because I have a VERY long torso, thus, any midriff-showing top will make me look like I am a mile long in the body, which makes me feel like a circus act. Why can’t we just all fucking stay covered? Why isn’t that in style? Wait, because that doesn’t make anyone feel self-conscious, and isn’t that what it’s all about?
Anyway, suffice it to say that underneath my strategically long shirt, I’ve got at least 2 inches of ass crack showing. And I don’t like the winter breeze gently caressing my ass, nor do I want the gentle summer breeze or anything for that matter, gently caressing my ass crack.
I hereby veto the midriff trend for 09! I guess I’ll be wearing a lot of dresses for the next year. Or overalls…

Meditation on Blogging

I need heeeeelp! I think I’ve run into a mental roadblock. That, or the anti-depressants are working so well they’ve stopped my ability to think in a creative manner. But don’t worry, that’s just a side effect and should wear off within 1-2 weeks. Yes, I’ve switched meds back onto Effexor because frankly, it was the only thing I’ve used in the past year and a half that’s actually done the proper job, or at least what I think it’s supposed to do. The other what? 5 that I’ve been on? They’ve all been progressively worse, I think. I guess that’s just a personal side effect when you work with the brain.
Anyhooters, I’m wondering what you, the lovely reader would like to see? I mean, I generally just write whatever I like, but is there something in particular that you’d like to see, or read? I’m up for whatever! Product reviews, general complaining, pug stories, youtube videos, whatevs! I guess when you are faced with any number of options, it’s sort of hard to pick. I need to be put in a box! I had this same issue when I’d be drawing. If someone actually told me to draw something, I would, but if I just had to sit and think about something to draw, nothing would come to mind!
So yeah, any suggestions? Even if you liked when I wrote about something in particular in the past. I’ve tended to have evolved from a blog that was very introspective to one that I more or less find entertaining. I think i was just more introspective in the beginning (4, 5 years ago now?! Ack!) because I was depressed and un-medicated, but come medication time, BAM, I am happy and sarcastic as a clam.
This reminds me that I was watching a youtube video the other day about this chick that was super happy and didn’t really have anything negative to say, and I was all like, “What the shit? She’s so….so….HAPPY! How can she not complain about anything?” But maybe that’s where I get my brand of humour from. From the misgivings of life and from all the shit that happens. That’s how it’s always been though. Crazy crap happens to me that, when combined, people tend to be amazed with. This is why my memoirs will be so entertaining someday. And my friends, that someday will be after my mom passes away, because no one really wants to tell their mom what they really think of them! And where would I be with all my stories if I didn’t have her? Whose nightstand would I find lube on? No one. I can tell you that right now.
On a side note, the office smelled like grilled cheese this morning, which almost made me think I was having a heart attack or something. Luckily I had already had one because one of my bosses had PUMPED UP THE JAMS on the radio last night, leaving dreary-eyed me to turn on the radio this morning and shit myself right out of the room because it was so loud. It really makes me wonder what kind of terrible dance parties are happening when I’m not around. I hope there are a lot of them.

January 2009
25262728293031 collective fashion consciousness.