Posts Tagged 'humour'

Elevator Etiquette

I used to hate taking elevators. I think I was scared they were going to come crashing to the ground, or I’d get stuck in one?
Basically, working at a hospital will cure you of all elevator fear, as you take them 50 times a shift to get to the various units. And taking the elevator with a corpse? Forget about it! Childsplay!
Luckily I got over the elevator fear before moving into an apartment as well, as climbing many, MANY stairs is out of the question. I’ve climbed much less at work to get to my office and have greatly regretted it!
I find that in public spaces (say maybe, in a building lobby) there is a certain etiquette that comes with waiting and boarding an elevator.
When you arrive in front of the elevator, either the button has been pushed, or you have to push it. If it’s been pushed, you had better let the person that pushed the button get on the elevator first, or you’ll get the stank eye. If you push it, congrats! You get on first. Anyone who breaks this rule seems to be the subject of a great number of grunts and dirty looks.
And you’d better pay attention to who arrived in front of the elevator in what order! If you step ahead of anyone else, you’d better get a bullet proof vest. Looks CAN kill.
Or maybe it’s just me that gets really pissed when someone busts in front of me to get into the elevator.
That, and when I am getting out of an elevator, but some over-anxious fool barges into the elevator before I can even get OFF the elevator.
Why is human contact so difficult?!

Smells and the City

There is quite the stinky difference between Vancouver and Calgary in the summer, which I have just realized over the past two weeks.  Downtown Calgary can get *sort* of stinky in some parts, but mostly just by dumpsters where the hobos pee and such.
Vancouver is on another level of stink completely.  It’s like you think you know what stink is, and then you walk down say, Homer St downtown and get these various whiffs of things that would make you crawl back inside your mother’s womb and stay there.  Or smells that would make you turn completely inside out in under one second.  Or smells that would make you shout curse words in languages YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW.  I wish there was some way I could better explain the horror of some of the rotten smells in this city when it’s hot out, but it’s just not the same as being here.  And Granville on a Monday morning?  Forget about it.  You might as well just drive right around it with a haz-mat suit on.
I don’t know how this bevy of smells comes together, but there have now been two seperate occasions when I’ve smelt a smell SO bad, SO repulsive, that I have actually wanted to heave.  I don’t know if it’s trash, poop, trash AND poop, and maybe drugs, but oh man, these are the smells you need to call in an exorcist for.
I mean, it makes the walk to work pretty interesting when you smell some aroma and can play “Poop or Food?!”

Scratch that Itch

I’ve been painting my nails for the past month, and so far it’s been a pretty nice little relaxing thing I can do once a week.  I haven’t worn nail polish for maybe eight years though because I stopped wearing it while I was working my first real job at Blockbuster Video.  I use the term “real” loosely.  When you work at Starbucks you’re not supposed to wear nail polish, lest a piece of you polish fly off your nail and into a latte for some unsuspecting sucker to ingest!
Since the bux I’ve just been too lazy to paint my nails, but now that OPI has become pretty standard for being a reliable nail lacquer, I’ve been experimenting more with colors.
So after a string of very bright colors (yellow being the last) I decided to paint my nails with a cheapy Rimmel polish called “Pink Opal.”
Three coats later and I am stuck in that “can’t do anything with your hands at all or you will eff your nails and have to start all over” phase.  With OPI I think that phase lasts like 2 minutes, but I must have forgotten my cheaper polish application would need a good 10 minutes before I could do anything.
So I go to bed and I test my nails to see if I’ll get the dreaded “sheet crease” in any of the nails, but it feels good, so I think I’m okay.
Then I get an itch on my ass.  And I go deep, forgetting that I have just recently applied nail polish, and shouldn’t be excavating any itches until the next day, after the polish has had a chance to harden.  So I scratch, thus relieving my butt itch.
Then I notice that the polish on my index (re: scratching finger du jour) has pushed back from the sheer force of my scratching!  And I am out of nail polish remover!
So now I have to look at my index finger until I get more polish remover and know that I was ass-deep in scratches last night in bed.
I call it, “The Finger of Shame!”

On what a sappy baby I am.

Okay, I was just writing an email to my friend, Amanda (pugmanda, woo!) and then I told her this story and I was pretty much thinking, um, this is so ridiculous I need to tell the world about what a crybaby I am.

 So on Monday night Elf was on.  You know, that movie with Will Ferrell.

So I wanted to watch it because I’d never seen it, but I heard it was pretty good.  And you know what?  IT WAS.  But the ridiculous part is that I CRIED AT THE END OF THE MOVIE.  I fucking CRIED watching Elf. 

Okay, I am a crier.  Like, I will cry while watching “A Baby Story” and “A Wedding Story”, or like if a fucking puppy is born, but while watching ELF?!  Am I that sappy?!

Steve was just laughing at me and was like, “Aww, honey, that’s so sweet, you cry at like puppies and kittens and babies being born….” and then BLAM!  I start crying again and I’m like LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND SPECIAL!!!!  WAAAAAAAAH!

Now, who wants to watch Finding Neverland with me?  I guarantee you’ll be able to catch a ferry ride OFF OF MY RIVER OF TEARS.

Pink Triangle

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Ask me how the hell I ended up crocheting a pink triangle, and I wouldn’t know any more than you would!

As you can see, I am getting the hang of crochet, but apparently I am not counting my stitches or something, or maybe I secretly wand to knit a tiny bikini?  I guess it’s good that I actually make something that doesn’t look like a giant lump of yarn like the last one did!

I’d really like to crochet something like this eventually:

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but for now all I can do is make bikinis…

Perhaps I can become the hottest new winter bikini designer??

I Need a Touch Up

Ahhh, today is the day I get a nice little touch up to my tattoo.  As if it’s not fun enough getting a tattoo on a very painful part of your body once, I get to do it all over again!!!  WOOOOO.

My little birdie healed up pretty well, there’s just some spots where the line quality isn’t quite the same, so I’m getting a little work done to make it look tip top! 

It’s pretty quiet over here today, the whole building is full of white noise.  Ahh Friday.  I love it.

So there was a wedding dress downstairs in the little clothing store we run and I thought, “hey, that looks like it would fit me!” and so I tried it on and ran all over the building in a big ass wedding dress for a half hour.  People were all like, “Oh man, you should totally buy it!”, but let’s be real here. 

1) I am not engaged

2) It’s a used wedding gown

3) there is a really sad story behind the gown

I don’t know if I want to be all boo hoo and tell you about what happened with the dress and how it ended up at our little used clothing store…it’s pretty damn depressing.


February 2017
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