It was so hot today, that when I came back from work I changed into a dress. Quite a confounding experience and one that I feel I shall not repeat for many moons to come.
In other news, yes. I love coming back from a week off. Hmmm... to go off onto a tangent or not? Not. Apparently I still have some remnants of zen in me.
Went over to Michael's and played with him this evening. He cooked me dinner and we watched "The Ice Storm" which was pretty interesting. I think I may have to ponder it a bit further because there was a lot going on. We ate nectarines.
Starting a diet tomorrow. These five pounds have got to go. They enrage me. I let them hang around because I think it's easy to get rid of them. I've been thinking that since last October. So am serious about it now. If it's on the blog, it's golden. Salad, soup and fourteen mile runs are my friends (my friends that I hate).
Um. Yes. Super boring, eh?
Oh - my faith in karma has been restored. It does seem that bad things happen to people who inflict badness on others (in this specific instance at least). So now I feel super shitty telling those two women that were day tripping on Lasqueti that they had likely passed Spring Bay since, as I jogged back in the direction from whence they came I did not notice the road that leads to Spring Bay so the likely scenario was that they hadn't come upon it yet.
Dear ladies: I am so sorry. I was confused and unsure and my misdirection was not born from malice and I liked the fact that, in your august years, you were traversing the Gulf Islands and I thought your Greek sailing cap was jaunty and my dad has one like it and he used to get a free shot of Ouzo when he wore it to the Greek restaurant on Marine Drive in White Rock.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Hiking
Didn't do the ten miler this morning, though Michael was up and out the door. I was up and into my bathing suit and on the balcony at 8:45. Sweet.
Michael came back and we made "hot enough for ya?" jokes because it was so hot today. Then we decided to go to the Lynn
Headwaters and maybe go for a little hike. And, because we're like that, our hike, which was supposed to be about 8 kilometres ended up being around 15 kilometres (at least). See, at the 4 kilometre marker we discovered there were some falls another three kilometres away. Long story short: we arrived at the park at 1:30pm and left it after 6pm. The Norvan falls were fantastic. The water was so icy cold that Michael could only put his feet in them for thirteen seconds before grimacing in pain and mincing about. I, being sane, did not put any body parts into the water. Also, I forgot my camera (but did bring a lot of Werthers which I really enjoy) but Michael has a wicked camera on his phone and took a lot of pictures so when he sends them to me I will post them.
Anyways, it was just a stellar day. North Van is beautiful and our hike was amazing. We had a really fantastic day together. W
e came back, had dinner on my balcony, listening to jazz, talking about how tight our hamstrings are, you know, the usual.
Not looking forward to work tomorrow, but Tuesday's a stat which makes me a happy Canadian!
Michael came back and we made "hot enough for ya?" jokes because it was so hot today. Then we decided to go to the Lynn
Headwaters and maybe go for a little hike. And, because we're like that, our hike, which was supposed to be about 8 kilometres ended up being around 15 kilometres (at least). See, at the 4 kilometre marker we discovered there were some falls another three kilometres away. Long story short: we arrived at the park at 1:30pm and left it after 6pm. The Norvan falls were fantastic. The water was so icy cold that Michael could only put his feet in them for thirteen seconds before grimacing in pain and mincing about. I, being sane, did not put any body parts into the water. Also, I forgot my camera (but did bring a lot of Werthers which I really enjoy) but Michael has a wicked camera on his phone and took a lot of pictures so when he sends them to me I will post them.
Anyways, it was just a stellar day. North Van is beautiful and our hike was amazing. We had a really fantastic day together. W
e came back, had dinner on my balcony, listening to jazz, talking about how tight our hamstrings are, you know, the usual.Not looking forward to work tomorrow, but Tuesday's a stat which makes me a happy Canadian!
Feed me!
Ah gad. Michael is in bed, resolute on attending tomorrow's 8am clinic. Fuck that. I'm still on vacation. I was like, "You're too tired for sex: go to bed. I have to blog". It strikes me that my priorities might be out of order. Eh. Too burnt for sex right now. Alright. Here are some of the much anticipated pics from my sojourn. Please. Look through them at your leisure and then never again ask me why I drink so much to get through the week.
Friday, June 27, 2008
I'm not coming home!
Kidding: I have to go home to give my two weeks notice at work and pack up some shit before coming back to live here forever. Kidding again. Sort of.
I cannot believe how fast this week went. I've got scads of great pictures which I'll post when I get back home. The weather has been awesome, I've been sleeping and eating well and I've gone for two runs, two kayak rides and got in some yoga (while enjoying the ocean breeze) this morning.
The first thing I did when I arrived at Lasqueti was to help my dad chase a deer that had snuck into his fenced area. So all that marathon training really paid off... The next day I helped him clean the chimney and watched as he did some soldering. Then I got to spray ether into the smokestack of the backhoe while he tried to get it going again. That was entertaining. Then we dumped some logs at a mill so they can be made into boards and I got to play with a border collie who was intent on herding my dad's dumptruck. In between all this exciting activity I lay in the sun a lot, finished Margaret Atwood's "Life Before Man", kayaked out to the Finnerties, drank a lot, ate a lot, bumped into a friend of my dad that hadn't seen me since I was a kid, had dinner with my dad at the restaurant, watered a lot of plants, and started writing a book. So it's all been good.
The wildlife here is amazing like usual. The ravens are exceptionally raucous this year and sound like little girls shrieking. Not exactly soothing. I also saw a falcon which is pretty rare. Disturbed a bunch of sunning seals last night and because they're so curious they followed our progress for a while, popping their head out of the water to exhale loudly which, as usual, scares the shit out of me. Saw a couple of deer, a raccoon, scores of eagles and a water snake.
Hm. I really, really don't want to leave. I am so totally relaxed. The other day I followed a honeybee for a while as he was collecting pollen. I'm that zen right now.
Well, I should head on back I suppose. Sigh. I love it here. Such a nice existence.
Peace out, kids. Will post a bunch of pics on Sunday.
See you tomorrow, supermummy!
I cannot believe how fast this week went. I've got scads of great pictures which I'll post when I get back home. The weather has been awesome, I've been sleeping and eating well and I've gone for two runs, two kayak rides and got in some yoga (while enjoying the ocean breeze) this morning.
The first thing I did when I arrived at Lasqueti was to help my dad chase a deer that had snuck into his fenced area. So all that marathon training really paid off... The next day I helped him clean the chimney and watched as he did some soldering. Then I got to spray ether into the smokestack of the backhoe while he tried to get it going again. That was entertaining. Then we dumped some logs at a mill so they can be made into boards and I got to play with a border collie who was intent on herding my dad's dumptruck. In between all this exciting activity I lay in the sun a lot, finished Margaret Atwood's "Life Before Man", kayaked out to the Finnerties, drank a lot, ate a lot, bumped into a friend of my dad that hadn't seen me since I was a kid, had dinner with my dad at the restaurant, watered a lot of plants, and started writing a book. So it's all been good.
The wildlife here is amazing like usual. The ravens are exceptionally raucous this year and sound like little girls shrieking. Not exactly soothing. I also saw a falcon which is pretty rare. Disturbed a bunch of sunning seals last night and because they're so curious they followed our progress for a while, popping their head out of the water to exhale loudly which, as usual, scares the shit out of me. Saw a couple of deer, a raccoon, scores of eagles and a water snake.
Hm. I really, really don't want to leave. I am so totally relaxed. The other day I followed a honeybee for a while as he was collecting pollen. I'm that zen right now.
Well, I should head on back I suppose. Sigh. I love it here. Such a nice existence.
Peace out, kids. Will post a bunch of pics on Sunday.
See you tomorrow, supermummy!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
1:43:54
I'm not sure I know many people that kick off their vacation by getting up at 5am to run a half marathon. I'm so glad it's done. I love the Scotiabank half (that's why I've run it four times). What a great day. I love the people that come out to cheer, I love the volunteers. I love this absolutely beautiful city that we live in and I love that, this year, Michael and I went with another fabulous couple and that we all went for brunch after.
My time was 1:43:54 which means I ran a sub-five minute kilometre and I felt really good. In fact, I felt the best that I've ever felt after running any half or full. Michael came in at 1:35:47. He's effing fast.
I remember back in the day, thinking how the grind up the hill from Jericho beach was so arduous. I remember hating the Burrard Street bridge. Not today. Today I loved it all. I felt good and strong and had no knee pain and I fueled well and I as I was booking it to the finish I heard (over my iPod) Michael cheering me on.
I'm so fortunate to live in such a beautiful city and to be able to share such a great accomplishment with 5,000 other people on a great Sunday morning in June.
Then brunch. Then Michael and I napped: we were totally knackered. Then we got up and walked for another couple of hours around North Van, enjoying the sun (and getting the lactic acid out of our muscles).
Here's where I'll get sappy about Michael. Tune out now if you want to retain your dinner. So he comes back from Penticton last night and he comes over for dinner and brings an overnight bag without any prompting. We stay out on my balcony until it gets dark and are amazed how late it stayed bright. So we sleep (though, per my previous blog, we didn't sleep too well). Pick up J and G and get to UBC for the run. Then we spent the whole day together and now I won't see him for another week. He's just so great. I dunno. We sat in the sun at Starbucks eating cake and then wandered around, venturing into heretofore undiscovered trails and pushed each other into sprinklers. He brought me wine and jams and jellies from the Okanagan and washed my car while he was up there. He wants to pick me up when I get back into town on Saturday night. Public transit is brilliant from the ferries to here, but he wants to come and get me and I said okay. Sigh. I love him endlessly.
On that note. I should go... do stuff. I have to catch a 5:30am bus tomorrow because I'm insane (though leaving at this time gets me to Lasqueti at 10:45 and I'm going to FUCKING NAP FOR EONS).
I might blog at the school while I'm up there. I'm bringing my camera so I'll get lots of shots and post them when I get back.
I love not working. I love running. I love the summer and my life and Lasqueti and friends.
Mmmm. Happy!!!
It's 5:20am... do you know where your sanity is?
Yeah. This is too early for a race. Why do we have to start at 7am?? It's only a half marathon. I aim to be done by 8:45! I bet we'll be home by 10am. Then I'm going back to goddamn bed.
Got a scant couple of hours sleep last night because I never sleep before races and then I look at the clock and think, "man, am I going to be tired tomorrow" and become increasingly agitated.
When I did fall asleep I dreamed that Michael informed me that he had never loved me and that he had been manipulating me for the last eight years (and was apparently even attending courses on how to manipulate people). And it was one of those dreams that was so real that I was sure it was actually happening: it was absolutely horrible.
I told Michael about it and he said, "a course in manipulation? Where would one take such a thing, I'm curious...". Ha ha.
We're both so bagged.
It better not rain.
Must go brush mossy stumps.
Got a scant couple of hours sleep last night because I never sleep before races and then I look at the clock and think, "man, am I going to be tired tomorrow" and become increasingly agitated.
When I did fall asleep I dreamed that Michael informed me that he had never loved me and that he had been manipulating me for the last eight years (and was apparently even attending courses on how to manipulate people). And it was one of those dreams that was so real that I was sure it was actually happening: it was absolutely horrible.
I told Michael about it and he said, "a course in manipulation? Where would one take such a thing, I'm curious...". Ha ha.
We're both so bagged.
It better not rain.
Must go brush mossy stumps.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Liquor and writing
Hello. Thanks for tuning in. My blog is getting pretty goddamned boring these days. Pretty goddamned boring indeed.
Sore from the gym today. Place is a disaster: must clean and do yoga. Not looking forward to the 5am or 5:30am wakeup call tomorrow (and I'll be up even earlier on Monday).
I have a dilemma. Since I will be at Lasqueti full on Monday through Friday I thought "hey, I should bring my laptop and try a little writing since I never find the time to get to it". And then I thought "laptops are fucking heavy when you have to hump them from here to there". I reckoned I would do it nonetheless. I would suffer in silence for my craft (at which I am not at all accomplished). Then I thought "I need to get enough booze to last me from Monday to Friday and that's going to be very heavy because I drink a lot". Now I am at a crossroads: I cannot possibly heft such a tremendous amount of wine and my laptop. What to do, what to do... I guess I could just not drink while on the first vacation I've had since October 2007.
Sorry, just fell of the chair laughing.
Huh. I guess I'll just have to get a Sherpa.
So it's settled.
I actually have a couple of good ideas. This translates into me getting 70% of the way through and then loathing it and being unable to re-read it for fear of becoming sick to my stomach.
Right.
Sore from the gym today. Place is a disaster: must clean and do yoga. Not looking forward to the 5am or 5:30am wakeup call tomorrow (and I'll be up even earlier on Monday).
I have a dilemma. Since I will be at Lasqueti full on Monday through Friday I thought "hey, I should bring my laptop and try a little writing since I never find the time to get to it". And then I thought "laptops are fucking heavy when you have to hump them from here to there". I reckoned I would do it nonetheless. I would suffer in silence for my craft (at which I am not at all accomplished). Then I thought "I need to get enough booze to last me from Monday to Friday and that's going to be very heavy because I drink a lot". Now I am at a crossroads: I cannot possibly heft such a tremendous amount of wine and my laptop. What to do, what to do... I guess I could just not drink while on the first vacation I've had since October 2007.
Sorry, just fell of the chair laughing.
Huh. I guess I'll just have to get a Sherpa.
So it's settled.
I actually have a couple of good ideas. This translates into me getting 70% of the way through and then loathing it and being unable to re-read it for fear of becoming sick to my stomach.
Right.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Bored
Blah. Bored. I feel a bit detached from my life right now. I think I need a good night's sleep. Will strive for that tonight.
Something interesting did happen to me today. As you know I am an advocate and champion of public transit and, obviously, taking the same buses day in and day out means seeing some of the same characters day in and day out. So there is one guy that I've noticed for a few months. Hmm... how to describe? Um: Adonis. Yes. This guy is ridiculously good looking. He's likely in his early twenties and has blond, slightly curly hair and a nice tan and an amazing physique. He appears to have a manual job because he's a bit disheveled when I see him coming home. He doesn't listen to an iPod or talk on a cell phone. He just sits quietly and yet, somehow, attentively if that makes any sense. Still waters run deep and this gentleman strikes me being very thoughtful, steadfast, considerate and insightful. Yes, I totally deduce people's personalities even though they've never spoken to me and I realize that's "pre-judging" and I ought not to do it, but I do so... go suck. And the weird bit? He looks a bit like Michael looked when he was in his early twenties. Lean, blonde, bronzed, buff, affable (disclaimer: he is still all those things, just with more crows feet).
Where was I? Right. So Adonis gets on the bus today and there are no seats left so he has to stand in front of me and a little to the left (insert ribald joke here). He is so attractive that I find myself sneaking furtive glances at him, and staring at his hands a lot (hands are kind of my thing). I will interject here that it takes a lot to turn my crank. I don't find Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise attractive. My attractiveness radar is skewed, unpredictable and erratic. But this guy. Oh. My. God.
What happens? The person next to me gets up to get off the bus. Adonis offers the seat to the girl standing next to him. I pray that she declines the seat. She declines the seat. Adonis sits next to me. I can hardly contain myself. It's like this uncontrollable fit of lust comes over me. It's literally overwhelming to the point that I think, "is this totally one sided?". And then he looks over in my direction and I stare, hard, straight ahead, out the window, refusing any attempt at eye contact. And I also think, "this guy is like 10 years younger than me and, if anything, he probably thinks I'm a cougar. So that's fun".
Yeah. So that was pretty much it today. That, plus I'm super stoked that Scotiabank gave out re-usable bags with their race packages today! Way to go Scotiabank!! And the half marathon shirts are effing swank! I've been wanting a long sleeved technical shirt but hate the cost of all things running, so running 13 miles on Sunday is a small price to pay for the sweet gear I got today!
Okay. So it's settled: going to ravage Michael when he returns tomorrow.
Something interesting did happen to me today. As you know I am an advocate and champion of public transit and, obviously, taking the same buses day in and day out means seeing some of the same characters day in and day out. So there is one guy that I've noticed for a few months. Hmm... how to describe? Um: Adonis. Yes. This guy is ridiculously good looking. He's likely in his early twenties and has blond, slightly curly hair and a nice tan and an amazing physique. He appears to have a manual job because he's a bit disheveled when I see him coming home. He doesn't listen to an iPod or talk on a cell phone. He just sits quietly and yet, somehow, attentively if that makes any sense. Still waters run deep and this gentleman strikes me being very thoughtful, steadfast, considerate and insightful. Yes, I totally deduce people's personalities even though they've never spoken to me and I realize that's "pre-judging" and I ought not to do it, but I do so... go suck. And the weird bit? He looks a bit like Michael looked when he was in his early twenties. Lean, blonde, bronzed, buff, affable (disclaimer: he is still all those things, just with more crows feet).
Where was I? Right. So Adonis gets on the bus today and there are no seats left so he has to stand in front of me and a little to the left (insert ribald joke here). He is so attractive that I find myself sneaking furtive glances at him, and staring at his hands a lot (hands are kind of my thing). I will interject here that it takes a lot to turn my crank. I don't find Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise attractive. My attractiveness radar is skewed, unpredictable and erratic. But this guy. Oh. My. God.
What happens? The person next to me gets up to get off the bus. Adonis offers the seat to the girl standing next to him. I pray that she declines the seat. She declines the seat. Adonis sits next to me. I can hardly contain myself. It's like this uncontrollable fit of lust comes over me. It's literally overwhelming to the point that I think, "is this totally one sided?". And then he looks over in my direction and I stare, hard, straight ahead, out the window, refusing any attempt at eye contact. And I also think, "this guy is like 10 years younger than me and, if anything, he probably thinks I'm a cougar. So that's fun".
Yeah. So that was pretty much it today. That, plus I'm super stoked that Scotiabank gave out re-usable bags with their race packages today! Way to go Scotiabank!! And the half marathon shirts are effing swank! I've been wanting a long sleeved technical shirt but hate the cost of all things running, so running 13 miles on Sunday is a small price to pay for the sweet gear I got today!
Okay. So it's settled: going to ravage Michael when he returns tomorrow.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Sappy
This is a quick video I took before Michael left on his vacation. I can't remember what he was saying to me, but obviously it was funny. I remember turning around and trying to catch him on camera but he would have none of it.
Can't wait for him to come back.
Er. Making myself nauseous.
Can't wait for him to come back.
Er. Making myself nauseous.
I'm fast (but all the men I've slept with already know that)
What a great day. Well, actually, it wasn't great until I left work, but then it became great. All day I was anticipating the hummus that N made (she gave me a container packed full of it when we were at book club last night and it's the best hummus I've had in my life). Please, don't underestimate my love of hummus. When I work out tomorrow night I'm going to reek of garlic. Ah well: it will guarantee that I'll get the gym to myself.
So. Went to the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine, because one should always kick off their weekends on a Thursday night instead of waiting until Friday. Especially if one is running a half marathon at SEVEN AM ON SUNDAY. 7AM??? WTF? And then I have to catch the 6:30am sailing from Horseshoe Bay on Monday morning. Fack. I'm already exhausted and this doesn't take into account that, in addition to getting up at 5:30 on Sunday, I'll have to run 21 goddamn kilometres.
But it's okay. Went to my clinic tonight and it was cool. I have a group of people that I know there now (this being my the second time around with this running clinic) and some of the people were genuinely happy to see me (whereas most of them were just pretending). Then? Get ready for it... we did a 25 minute tempo run which may not sound like a lot, but I ran about 3.25 miles and my pace was a sub 8 minute mile and... I was the fastest girl there tonight! I was pretty pleased with that. And then my running mate A was quite attentive to me tonight (Michael said he always asks where I am when I don't show up for a run) and I just love him, he's such a positive, exuberant person to be around and as I passed him during the way he was so encouraging (he beat me at the Vancouver Marathon). I was talking to Michael tonight and I said, "A's in love with me. You better get home soon," and Michael laughed: he knows.
Eh. It was just nice to get back into the running groove, to have a good, strong run tonight and to be around such fantastic people. I love runners. Runners are freaking awesome people. They're the people that I've been looking for all my life (aside from my brilliant friends, of course).
You know how some days you feel the love? Today I feel the love. Today is great. I love hummus. I am putting hummus on my salad tomorrow even though the environmental committee is doing a lunchtime presentation and I may have to speak and breathe on people.
La dee da.
Quite content.
Though not too fussed about this 7am half marathon business. Ergh.
Love you all, my little chick peas!
So. Went to the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine, because one should always kick off their weekends on a Thursday night instead of waiting until Friday. Especially if one is running a half marathon at SEVEN AM ON SUNDAY. 7AM??? WTF? And then I have to catch the 6:30am sailing from Horseshoe Bay on Monday morning. Fack. I'm already exhausted and this doesn't take into account that, in addition to getting up at 5:30 on Sunday, I'll have to run 21 goddamn kilometres.
But it's okay. Went to my clinic tonight and it was cool. I have a group of people that I know there now (this being my the second time around with this running clinic) and some of the people were genuinely happy to see me (whereas most of them were just pretending). Then? Get ready for it... we did a 25 minute tempo run which may not sound like a lot, but I ran about 3.25 miles and my pace was a sub 8 minute mile and... I was the fastest girl there tonight! I was pretty pleased with that. And then my running mate A was quite attentive to me tonight (Michael said he always asks where I am when I don't show up for a run) and I just love him, he's such a positive, exuberant person to be around and as I passed him during the way he was so encouraging (he beat me at the Vancouver Marathon). I was talking to Michael tonight and I said, "A's in love with me. You better get home soon," and Michael laughed: he knows.
Eh. It was just nice to get back into the running groove, to have a good, strong run tonight and to be around such fantastic people. I love runners. Runners are freaking awesome people. They're the people that I've been looking for all my life (aside from my brilliant friends, of course).
You know how some days you feel the love? Today I feel the love. Today is great. I love hummus. I am putting hummus on my salad tomorrow even though the environmental committee is doing a lunchtime presentation and I may have to speak and breathe on people.
La dee da.
Quite content.
Though not too fussed about this 7am half marathon business. Ergh.
Love you all, my little chick peas!
Old blog/I'm gonna be knackered tomorrow
Nostalgia is fun. This me on June 20, 2007:
Into everyone's nostril a little bug must fly
Negotiated with the powers that be for a higher salary. Come July 15th I will be working a 35 hour week (7 hour days) and I factored in a 5% raise. I'm pretty happy with that. Better the devil you know, and all that.
Came home and decided to go for a run. After a couple of kilometres a winged bug flew into my right nostril. It wasn't a little bug, either. I was perplexed: how to deal with this strange, ticklish situation? I did something I thought I would never do: plugged my left nostril and blew hard on the right. No bug came out. I did manage to get snot everywhere. This was especially fantastic because I didn't have a Kleenex. So I wiped the snot on my arm. But then I could feel the bug moving around. What the hell was it doing, setting up shop? I glanced around, didn't see anyone ogling me and stuck my finger up my nose. No bug. It must have been seeking higher ground. I could still feel it (or maybe I simply thought I could feel it). It was driving me mad. I had planned to do an 11km run and this damn bug hadn't paid his $2.25. What to do? I crushed my right nostril, thinking if it was dead maybe it would be less aggravating. Okay. Finished the run, came home and immediately blew my nose. No bug! Michael says it's crawled into my brain to lay eggs.
Running is dead sexy. See picture of toe in prior blog.
Into everyone's nostril a little bug must fly
Negotiated with the powers that be for a higher salary. Come July 15th I will be working a 35 hour week (7 hour days) and I factored in a 5% raise. I'm pretty happy with that. Better the devil you know, and all that.
Came home and decided to go for a run. After a couple of kilometres a winged bug flew into my right nostril. It wasn't a little bug, either. I was perplexed: how to deal with this strange, ticklish situation? I did something I thought I would never do: plugged my left nostril and blew hard on the right. No bug came out. I did manage to get snot everywhere. This was especially fantastic because I didn't have a Kleenex. So I wiped the snot on my arm. But then I could feel the bug moving around. What the hell was it doing, setting up shop? I glanced around, didn't see anyone ogling me and stuck my finger up my nose. No bug. It must have been seeking higher ground. I could still feel it (or maybe I simply thought I could feel it). It was driving me mad. I had planned to do an 11km run and this damn bug hadn't paid his $2.25. What to do? I crushed my right nostril, thinking if it was dead maybe it would be less aggravating. Okay. Finished the run, came home and immediately blew my nose. No bug! Michael says it's crawled into my brain to lay eggs.
Running is dead sexy. See picture of toe in prior blog.
I need to go to bed
Michael called. Like he wouldn't call.
I'm a spastic retard.
Thanks for tuning in.
I'm a spastic retard.
Thanks for tuning in.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Fourth one's a charm
I loved "The Science of Sleep". It was one of the most original and touchingly funny and human movies that I've seen in a long time. It made up for the spate of shit that I've had to wade through over the last week.
Michael never called. So... that's good. Always nice to know that you're being thought of. Day 1 of the vacation I can see no phone call. You're happy to be home, you don't get around to it, whatever. Day 2 you would think - no, that's stupid. I would think. I would feel. I would want.
I am stupid and deluded.
I hate this. I fucking loathe this and all the stupid shit that surrounds it and that I'm sitting here thinking any of these ridiculous, useless thoughts.
I am going to be single until I die, but I will have a never ending string of lovers that will fall hopelessly in love with me and I will break their hearts one by one and laugh at them and thrust their roses into the trash and leave their chocolates to melt in the sun and make fun of their thoughtful and original Valentine's Day cards.
And yes, I realize that I am a spiteful, petulant bitch.
Michael never called. So... that's good. Always nice to know that you're being thought of. Day 1 of the vacation I can see no phone call. You're happy to be home, you don't get around to it, whatever. Day 2 you would think - no, that's stupid. I would think. I would feel. I would want.
I am stupid and deluded.
I hate this. I fucking loathe this and all the stupid shit that surrounds it and that I'm sitting here thinking any of these ridiculous, useless thoughts.
I am going to be single until I die, but I will have a never ending string of lovers that will fall hopelessly in love with me and I will break their hearts one by one and laugh at them and thrust their roses into the trash and leave their chocolates to melt in the sun and make fun of their thoughtful and original Valentine's Day cards.
And yes, I realize that I am a spiteful, petulant bitch.
The clinic
Ah. The clinic is back on. It's always fun thinking that you're in wicked shape (I mean, I did run 27 kilometres a week ago and I ran 24 on Saturday so it is easy for one to think that one is relatively fit), and then you go run hills for forty minutes and think, "Shit. I need to get in shape".
In other news, Michael in a wanker because, as always, he did not drop me a line to let me know he made it safely to Penticton. Wanker! And I'm sure he's having steak on the barbeque and Guinness as I write this, and will sleep until 10 tomorrow.
Jealous scowl.
In other news, Michael in a wanker because, as always, he did not drop me a line to let me know he made it safely to Penticton. Wanker! And I'm sure he's having steak on the barbeque and Guinness as I write this, and will sleep until 10 tomorrow.
Jealous scowl.
Monday, June 16, 2008
It's raining in Baltimore
Raise your hand if you think I lead such a frenetic life because I want to:
- avoid being by myself
- put off the trip to Europe that I've been wanting to do for months, which I know I will start out as three months but will end up with me at some bank, lobbying for someone to send me more money so I can extend it for another nine months
- claim that I'm too busy to write a book
- pretend that my life is meaningful
- work myself into a state of exhaustion so that I don't have to think about things
Kiddies: avoidance is key. Overload your social schedule. Take up marathon training (that's a tremendous time commitment). Blog as though you have ADD. Do I have ADD? I think I might have ADD. Read until you are so blind that you can't read the menu at Tim Hortons unless you're standing within ten feet of it. Rent movies - even shitty, garbage ones - and watch them endlessly and then critique how bad they are, while creating no alternative, creative offering of your own. Work on getting your British Citizenship. Don't you need to wash your windows? Clean your balcony? Sleep fitfully. I'm not sure what that accomplishes, but it seems like something you ought to do. I'm such a fucking, scared loser.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father's Day
I've been forgetting all day that it's Father's Day. And yes, I did call and speak with my father. So in light of this momentous day I would like to share with you some memories that I have of my father:
- We were at Lasqueti once, when I was probably around 12 years old, and we had kayaked out to our speedboat which was moored in the bay to pump some water out of it and I asked my dad what we were going to do about the leak and he said that we would have to sleep in the boat all night and take turns pumping the water out. I started to cry, but it turned out that he had only been joking and so he gave me a hug because I was so upset.
- My dad and Michael and I kayaked out to one of the Finnerties and made a little fire to cook some hotdogs for our lunch and I said, "um, maybe we should get some water in case the fire gets out of hand" and he said it would be fine, but I didn't think it would be because it was so dry so I went and gathered up some seawater in a bottle and almost right when I arrived back at the fire it had jumped out of the pit and caught some dry grass on fire and I was able to quench it immediately with the seawater I had just collected. So then we re-created the scene for posterity, with Michael taking the photos. I still have them and I laugh my ass off every time I look at them.
- When my dad discovered that, at age 15, I had taken the family car out for a joy ride (obviously I didn't have my license), I thought I was going to be flogged within an inch of my life. Instead, he just sat me down and calmly explained how, had I gotten into an accident and hurt someone, I could have cost our family everything because of my stupidity. Somehow, his calm, measured way of explaining just how badly I had messed up was far more terrifying than anything else he could have inflicted on me.
- I remember, when I was little (before my brother was born), he used to rub the bottoms of my feet on his beard and it tickled so much it was almost unbearable.
- When I was in elementary school I had really wanted a kitten for my birthday one year. My dad had a tugboat at the time and he had been out on a trip on the tug and we weren't even sure if he was going to make it back in time for my birthday, but he did make it back and he had this big, wrapped box for me. It wasn't a kitten, but I opened up and it was a life sized, plush, long haired cat and it was allllmost as good as the real thing.
- I remember running through the brush of Yelapa, trying to find the guy that we had rented our palapa from, because my dad had been stung by a scorpion and was having respiratory problems. That was a super fun night. I pushed him off the plane in a wheel chair because the scorpion bite had left his hands and feet numb. My mom was super impressed when she came to pick us up at YVR.
Yawn
Today. Up at 7 for the 8am clinic. I never sleep well when I have to get up early on the weekends, so I was pretty bagged by the time I dragged my sorry ass down to the store this morning. I found out we were running 7 miles and was like, sweet, I ran 15 miles yesterday so this will be a cake walk. Well, because I ran 15 miles yesterday I thought today's run would never end and my legs felt like tree stumps, which isn't nearly as interesting or fun as it might sound. Then, because I'm stupid, I didn't bring any water which was problematic given that, at 8:15am I was sweating because it was so sunny and warm. So overall it was a great way to kick off another marathon clinic.
Spent a little quality time with Michael before heading into Kerrisdale (he's going on vacation next week and it's totally corny and it's only a week but I'm going to miss him wildly) to visit with L and hear about her awesome trip to Europe. I need to go to Europe. Then I met up with Po for a very belated birthday dinner and some very tasty pasta. It was such a great evening we walked along the beach in Kits and then I headed home.
As I was on the bus going over the Granville Street bridge I looked out over the water and the boats coming in to dock and at the sun sinking over the mountainous ridges in the distance and thought, "we live in the most beautiful city in the world". And then when I was sauntering down the skywalk to catch the seabus I noticed the way the setting sun was hitting the cranes at Vanterm in such a way that they were this brilliant, flaming orangey red which contrasted against the shadowy dark blue hues of the North shore mountains and it was such a beautiful sight that it looked kind of phony. It was like some terrific Herzog 1950's Kodachrome photo and it was just there, free, offered up to me.
Sometimes I want to look furtively around and see if anyone else is getting this, is drinking this in.
Spent a little quality time with Michael before heading into Kerrisdale (he's going on vacation next week and it's totally corny and it's only a week but I'm going to miss him wildly) to visit with L and hear about her awesome trip to Europe. I need to go to Europe. Then I met up with Po for a very belated birthday dinner and some very tasty pasta. It was such a great evening we walked along the beach in Kits and then I headed home.
As I was on the bus going over the Granville Street bridge I looked out over the water and the boats coming in to dock and at the sun sinking over the mountainous ridges in the distance and thought, "we live in the most beautiful city in the world". And then when I was sauntering down the skywalk to catch the seabus I noticed the way the setting sun was hitting the cranes at Vanterm in such a way that they were this brilliant, flaming orangey red which contrasted against the shadowy dark blue hues of the North shore mountains and it was such a beautiful sight that it looked kind of phony. It was like some terrific Herzog 1950's Kodachrome photo and it was just there, free, offered up to me.
Sometimes I want to look furtively around and see if anyone else is getting this, is drinking this in.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Er. Right.
The "Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie For Theatres" was actually quite unintelligible. I understand that it's best to be high when watching ATHF, but man... it was just really, really stupid.
In other news: no more Saturday nights for me! The clinic is back at 8am on Sundays. It'll be good to see everyone tomorrow, but shit: 8am?
I'm sleepy.
Night.
In other news: no more Saturday nights for me! The clinic is back at 8am on Sundays. It'll be good to see everyone tomorrow, but shit: 8am?
I'm sleepy.
Night.
St. Elmo's Fire was also dumb
Ran the allotted fifteen miles at 10am this morning. To be truthful I didn't think that I was actually going to do the whole thing, but I did. And then I napped. For two frickin' hours! Then I watched "St. Elmo's Fire" which seemed a bit trite and wrapped up just a bit too nicely or glossed over the surface and missed the point or something. Then again, I'm just a girl with an iron deficiency and what do I know.
Michael called me and we decided to go for a walk i
n Ambleside since it was such a great evening and Michael was very impressed with his photo of me which captures the Lionsgate bridge and the moon. I'm not totally happy with it because from that angle I appear to have more Chins than a Chinese phonebook (can I say that?), but what am I going to do about it? One either loves my cherubic, dimpled face or one does not.
n Ambleside since it was such a great evening and Michael was very impressed with his photo of me which captures the Lionsgate bridge and the moon. I'm not totally happy with it because from that angle I appear to have more Chins than a Chinese phonebook (can I say that?), but what am I going to do about it? One either loves my cherubic, dimpled face or one does not.Michael also engaged in at least two public displays of affection while we were out, but I think he was just overjoyed that I bought him treats at Starbucks and perhaps he was covertly trying to lick errant chocolate from the corner of my mouth.
Nah. I think he loves my cherubic, dimpled face.
I'm supposed to be sleeping
Got up at 8am today (and woke up around 7). We went to bed around midnight: you do the math. The math is: not enough sleep! But Michael, in his quest for Boston, has taken to 9:30am bike rides with some of the other runners on Saturdays so he had to be up early. I got up with him and told myself that I would go back to bed when he left but I can't. That would be dumb. I have to get a run in today and I may as well do it now. Well, not now, but maybe in an hour.
Watched "I Am Legend" last night. Spent about a third of it with my fingers in my ears, murmuring, "scary...". It actually wasn't scary, it was actually kind of stupid. I love Will Smith: he's one of my favourite actors, but this movie wasn't good. It had a lot of potential though, but yeah... the computer animated animals and monsters were just bad and then with fifteen minutes to go two new characters are introduced and the whole thing about the virus running amok and essentially turning people into vampires was pretty silly. It was kind of like "Shaun of the Dead", but unfunny.
Just wrote about all the weird dreams I had last night but decided to delete them because you will all think that I am insane. Or moreso. Whatever.
Alright. I should go for my run while I still have some oatmeal powering me.
I AM NAPPING WHEN I GET BACK.
Watched "I Am Legend" last night. Spent about a third of it with my fingers in my ears, murmuring, "scary...". It actually wasn't scary, it was actually kind of stupid. I love Will Smith: he's one of my favourite actors, but this movie wasn't good. It had a lot of potential though, but yeah... the computer animated animals and monsters were just bad and then with fifteen minutes to go two new characters are introduced and the whole thing about the virus running amok and essentially turning people into vampires was pretty silly. It was kind of like "Shaun of the Dead", but unfunny.
Just wrote about all the weird dreams I had last night but decided to delete them because you will all think that I am insane. Or moreso. Whatever.
Alright. I should go for my run while I still have some oatmeal powering me.
I AM NAPPING WHEN I GET BACK.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Engrish
One of my coworkers Skyped me and told me I looked "fucking lovely" today. At first I was taken aback and kind of offended, and then I remembered that he had come into my office yesterday while I was re-reading an email with some pics from http://www.engrish.com/ and was using my lovely appearance today in conjuction with this picture.
Happy Friday!
I swear too much. I need to curb that. What if impressionable five year olds are reading this blog? Man, would they need a lot of therapy.
In other news, it's sunny (or hazy, rather) which has done much to lift my spirts. Winter weather in June can grate on one's nerves. And Michael's coming over to watch a movie with me tonight.
Yay!
Boy, I think it might be a hot one today.
In other news, it's sunny (or hazy, rather) which has done much to lift my spirts. Winter weather in June can grate on one's nerves. And Michael's coming over to watch a movie with me tonight.
Yay!
Boy, I think it might be a hot one today.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Good advice from a great friend
I get this email today from Supermommy and she's like, "Uh, I think I lost the plot line somewhere. What the hell is going on?". So I unload. It's like this five paragraph email filled with neurosis, anxiousness and self-doubt and she looks through it carefully and then responds something along the lines of, "Wow, you're totally neurotic and are creating mountains out of mole hills and are currently your own worst enemy". Um, yes. Though in my self defense I do think that I mentioned that paranoia would be next on the menu on yesterday's blog.
Anyways. I am thankful for the rational, thoughtful friends that I have had (in this case since I was like, six years old) that are able to comprehend the ridiculous path upon which I am so resolutely about to disembark and who steer me, so gently and kindly, in the right direction. Sometimes, when my head is really far up my ass? It's hard to see where I'm going.
Having extricated my head from my ass I was able to have a really fun evening with Michael (he had two beers and got the hiccups: it was freaking awesome) and I love Michael as much as the day is long. I just have to learn that sometimes, when he doesn't call? It's not because he doesn't love me. He loves me tremendously, and sometimes I doubt this when he's not in my immediate purview, but that's my issue, not his.
In other news, I bought some Bin 222 and why in Christ's name did I ever - ah. I bought a Bin 222 and just assumed it was Lindeman's and it wasn't. So, um, avoid the Wyndham Estates Bin 222: it's horrid. But do buy Wyndham Estates Bin 555 (Shiraz): excellent. And Lindeman's Bin 222 is fantastic. Don't confuse the two, or else you'll end up with a bottle of kife white that makes you retch. Oh my god, it tastes like an oak barrel. I fucking hate Chardonnay.
Where was I? Oh, right. Michael. I fucking love Michael. Sigh. Yes. Man. He makes me want to be a better person, and I think in the year that we were apart I've tried to cultivate that better persona. He gave me props for all the work that I've been doing with the environmental committee at work (while chiding me for my shit time on the last marathon). He's hot. He let me go as I railed on Bill C-51 today and let me unload on all my work issues. Then he let me give my speech on toxicity (to be presented at our next Eco presentation at work on June 20th) and let me ramble about the overall attractiveness of my coworkers (having deduced this from the pictures on my blog: god, I work with hot men, thankyoulordjesus). He's just a really easy going kind of guy. Even if he's lifting up my shirt to look at the damage caused by my stupid water belt from our Sunday 27k extravaganza. What?! There was some chaffing. What do you want?
So, obviously I am in better spirits and am in a better mood. There is something in my personality that seems to demand 24/7 reassurance. I hate that thing. I'm a pretty decent person. The vast majority of people that seem to like me are (in my opinion) super cool and I admire them tremendously. So I should maybe just allow myself the satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that I am pretty okay because the people that like me are frickin' awesome.
Oh my god. This wine is really not good at all. But I strongly recommend Barefoot Cellars' Pinot Grigio (California). It's been one of the best (white) wines that I've had in a long time and it's really cheap.
Yeah. Oak barrel plus butter = shite.
Anyways. I am thankful for the rational, thoughtful friends that I have had (in this case since I was like, six years old) that are able to comprehend the ridiculous path upon which I am so resolutely about to disembark and who steer me, so gently and kindly, in the right direction. Sometimes, when my head is really far up my ass? It's hard to see where I'm going.
Having extricated my head from my ass I was able to have a really fun evening with Michael (he had two beers and got the hiccups: it was freaking awesome) and I love Michael as much as the day is long. I just have to learn that sometimes, when he doesn't call? It's not because he doesn't love me. He loves me tremendously, and sometimes I doubt this when he's not in my immediate purview, but that's my issue, not his.
In other news, I bought some Bin 222 and why in Christ's name did I ever - ah. I bought a Bin 222 and just assumed it was Lindeman's and it wasn't. So, um, avoid the Wyndham Estates Bin 222: it's horrid. But do buy Wyndham Estates Bin 555 (Shiraz): excellent. And Lindeman's Bin 222 is fantastic. Don't confuse the two, or else you'll end up with a bottle of kife white that makes you retch. Oh my god, it tastes like an oak barrel. I fucking hate Chardonnay.
Where was I? Oh, right. Michael. I fucking love Michael. Sigh. Yes. Man. He makes me want to be a better person, and I think in the year that we were apart I've tried to cultivate that better persona. He gave me props for all the work that I've been doing with the environmental committee at work (while chiding me for my shit time on the last marathon). He's hot. He let me go as I railed on Bill C-51 today and let me unload on all my work issues. Then he let me give my speech on toxicity (to be presented at our next Eco presentation at work on June 20th) and let me ramble about the overall attractiveness of my coworkers (having deduced this from the pictures on my blog: god, I work with hot men, thankyoulordjesus). He's just a really easy going kind of guy. Even if he's lifting up my shirt to look at the damage caused by my stupid water belt from our Sunday 27k extravaganza. What?! There was some chaffing. What do you want?
So, obviously I am in better spirits and am in a better mood. There is something in my personality that seems to demand 24/7 reassurance. I hate that thing. I'm a pretty decent person. The vast majority of people that seem to like me are (in my opinion) super cool and I admire them tremendously. So I should maybe just allow myself the satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that I am pretty okay because the people that like me are frickin' awesome.
Oh my god. This wine is really not good at all. But I strongly recommend Barefoot Cellars' Pinot Grigio (California). It's been one of the best (white) wines that I've had in a long time and it's really cheap.
Yeah. Oak barrel plus butter = shite.
High heels
Sometimes I feel like I am supposed to wear high heels. Am I supposed to wear high heels? I feel like, today, I should have worn them. I think I have one pair... somewhere.
I had a lengthy post about this whole high heel dilemma on my old blog, before I became embittered. Enlightened, I mean. Enlightened.
I had a lengthy post about this whole high heel dilemma on my old blog, before I became embittered. Enlightened, I mean. Enlightened.
Losah
I cried last night before I went to bed. Yeah. Cried.
Now I have horrible puffy eyes and look like a monster.
It's kind of funny.
I'm hoping to be in bed in... oh, say 12.5 hours. Maybe 13.
Now I have horrible puffy eyes and look like a monster.
It's kind of funny.
I'm hoping to be in bed in... oh, say 12.5 hours. Maybe 13.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Yeah
I'm not sure that Dave Matthews' "Some Devil" should ever be played right before Janis Joplin's "Piece of My Heart". That's just too fucking ironic, even for a rip-roaring bitch like me.
Having pondered further on the matter, I think the very crux of my problem is this: I love too much and too hard and it creates an imbalance, such as it is.
So. You know. That sucks.
Huh. I retain my loser status.
I am so going to punch people tomorrow.
Having pondered further on the matter, I think the very crux of my problem is this: I love too much and too hard and it creates an imbalance, such as it is.
So. You know. That sucks.
Huh. I retain my loser status.
I am so going to punch people tomorrow.
The thing about being a frigid bitch...
... is that, pretty much, you end up alone. Holy fack, my blogging spree was just interrupted by someone's screeching fan belt. If your fan belt sounds like 94 cats being skinned alive you need to: a) change that motherfucker; or b) don't drive.
Where was I? Right, being a frigid bitch. Here are some of the things that I do to alienate myself from the rest of civilization:
Where was I? Right, being a frigid bitch. Here are some of the things that I do to alienate myself from the rest of civilization:
- when people call me and ask me how I am I say, "fine, how are you?" and then turn the conversation to them and avoid answering all except the most topical questions
- I don't touch people (unless I'm drunk or am being violent). Today I poked A in the chest because he was riding my ass about not coming out for lunch with him
- I don't lunch with my coworkers often enough
- I avoid eye contact 90% of the time with 87% of the people I know
- all the men that I want to marry are married. I'm not sure how this has alienated me, exactly, but I bet that if I had been less of a stand-offish and difficult bitch during my twenties I might have met a nice bloke that wanted to marry me by this point in my sordid and lonely existence
- I'm far too argumentative, excitable and independent and most guys just want a girl who is easy on the head instead of someone that phones drunkenly from random locations demanding to be picked up and rails how the world would be better if it was run by women (it so fucking would, though)
- a lot of people are scared that I might punch them. And they ought to be.
- I walk like a man. Seriously, my mom told me this once because I take great, big, determined strides whenever I'm out walking and I guess if I had minced about more and allowed some guy to throw his jacket in a puddle for me to step on then said man would be allowed to feel as though he had been allowed to take care of me in some gentle way and then I would be with a man who would have protective urges towards me which would likely enrage me 90% of the time except on days like today when I want to be pandered to and loved
- I'm really, really fucking hard on the head and temperamental and quite assholistic, but have these amazingly deep streaks of romanticism and passion that people aren't aware of because they're too busy ducking the plates that I'm lobbing at their heads while I rail about the Bush administration and Bill C-51. FUCK BILL C-51!!
- I'm too political
- I have a potty mouth
Okay. I get why I'm alone now. Maybe if I wore skirts more often it would help. It's just that it's too hard to take the stairs two at a time in a skirt. Ever tried to kick someone in the nuts in a skirt? Difficult. Ahh.... I'm such a fucking loser.
If you offer them cake.... they will recycle
Here are some pics from last Friday's impromptu Green Committee celebration. I had spent days bringing in IKEA plates five at a time (they're heavy!), as well as forks, so we didn' t have to use paper plates and plastic forks - nor will we for any festive occasion at work going forward! It was fun.
Hopefully once everyone's sugar high wore off they were able to come up with some green suggestions for the office!
Tee hee
A photo with me and some work mates, out for Friday night drinks a couple of weeks ago.
Ah, fun...
Ah, fun...
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Today's coffee tastes like garbage
Quite profoundly depressed. Have not spiraled down into total paranoia yet (watch for that later in the day) so I know enough to attribute most of my foul mood and overall listlessness to the weather.
My hair looks fantastic though.
My hair looks fantastic though.
Monday, June 9, 2008
I miss Harry
Harry. Where are you? Why do you always say we'll get together for dinner and then we never do? I miss our conversations over Kokanees that would close down the bar, after which we would help ourselves to coffee, ultimately get kicked out of said bar, only to go across the street to Tim Hortons to continue to talk until 3am.
I guess, given our divurgent lives, that it's likely I'll never see you again.
I'll never forget the time you showed up on my (parents') doorstep with a beard and salmon (?) after your fishing trip.
I hope you have the happiest life filled with the best kinds of goodness.
I guess, given our divurgent lives, that it's likely I'll never see you again.
I'll never forget the time you showed up on my (parents') doorstep with a beard and salmon (?) after your fishing trip.
I hope you have the happiest life filled with the best kinds of goodness.
What a shit day
It's June... something. June 9th. I had to pull out my fall jacket because it's so goddamn cold and blustery today. My cool plants are being battered by the wind. It is nasty. I want to stay in bed all day tomorrow and look at the window and burrow under the covers. It's June 9th. If the weather is like this when I have my week off I'm not going to Lasqueti: I will go to work and book some time off when it's in the high twenties like it's supposed to be.
Got stood up by a hairdresser. Went to another one. Not sure if I like it the haircut so much, was starting to look a little edgy with my long, flowing tresses. Am totally unmotivated at work. Feel tubby. Pulled the last, lingering, dead toenail off (all marathon related injuries are behind me now). Bit my nails down to the quick because I'm feeling particularly anxious and nervous. Pegged a Moorcheeba song (that I hadn't heard before) right off the bat on SomaFM. Someone just blew an airhorn for some reason.
What a crap day. I'm going to bed shortly.
Got stood up by a hairdresser. Went to another one. Not sure if I like it the haircut so much, was starting to look a little edgy with my long, flowing tresses. Am totally unmotivated at work. Feel tubby. Pulled the last, lingering, dead toenail off (all marathon related injuries are behind me now). Bit my nails down to the quick because I'm feeling particularly anxious and nervous. Pegged a Moorcheeba song (that I hadn't heard before) right off the bat on SomaFM. Someone just blew an airhorn for some reason.
What a crap day. I'm going to bed shortly.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Woooo-hooooooooooooo!
I love my life. I woke up rather early today and was kind of tossing and flailing about and then my back went "clunk!" which it does occasionally and it felt sooooooo good. I like when my back gets all nicely realigned after messing it up over the last two weeks humping IKEA plates into work five at a time to help save the environment. Wot?
Okay. Then Michael called and you know, I'll be truthful. I didn't think I could run 17 miles today. I didn't want to run 17 miles today. Do you know how far that is? It's really fucking far. But I had said I would and so I slouched down to Michael's and we headed out and we ran over the Iron Workers and I was feeling pretty good and then we hit Science World and went on to Granville Island and then over the Burrard Street bridge, and watched some of the triathletes (female heat - Michael was enraptured) and then ran over the Lionsgate and then back home. Holy fuck, batman! 27.5 kilometres later I was HUNGRY. So we went to this pub that we hadn't ever been to and we each had two beer and my god, if we weren't about to fall asleep in our chairs.
One of the women in my running clinic was due to come by for a some wine and appies at 7pm and I was totally behind the eight ball and had to get home to pick up some stuff and make my place look presentable. So at 6th Street I said, "Okay, I'll see you later" and Michael grabbed me a little forcefully around the waist and gave me a rather fervent kiss at 6th and Lonsdale, even though I hadn't showered and had onion breath and was wearing his hat which is a little too big for me on account of my pea-head. I love Michael. I love him so goddamn much it's ridiculous. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could explain the ribbing, the foot rubs, the way I don't have to explain anything because - four words into it - he gets exactly what I'm trying to say. How he was so quiet on Saturday morning that I didn't even hear him leave to go on his bike ride. The way he twitches when he sleeps. Carrying an extra gel for me today in case I "had a fit". The public spankings (not even kidding). How he is continually amazed that I have Neil Young and David Bowie on my play list. Taking my hand and randomly kissing it as we walked down to the pub.
Anyways, here is a post from my old blog from a year ago. My old blog came to an end in August of 2007 so I think I should have a bit of a party to celebrate in August 2008. Give a little re-cap on the year of Duder. It was an interesting year, for sure...
Okay. Then Michael called and you know, I'll be truthful. I didn't think I could run 17 miles today. I didn't want to run 17 miles today. Do you know how far that is? It's really fucking far. But I had said I would and so I slouched down to Michael's and we headed out and we ran over the Iron Workers and I was feeling pretty good and then we hit Science World and went on to Granville Island and then over the Burrard Street bridge, and watched some of the triathletes (female heat - Michael was enraptured) and then ran over the Lionsgate and then back home. Holy fuck, batman! 27.5 kilometres later I was HUNGRY. So we went to this pub that we hadn't ever been to and we each had two beer and my god, if we weren't about to fall asleep in our chairs.
One of the women in my running clinic was due to come by for a some wine and appies at 7pm and I was totally behind the eight ball and had to get home to pick up some stuff and make my place look presentable. So at 6th Street I said, "Okay, I'll see you later" and Michael grabbed me a little forcefully around the waist and gave me a rather fervent kiss at 6th and Lonsdale, even though I hadn't showered and had onion breath and was wearing his hat which is a little too big for me on account of my pea-head. I love Michael. I love him so goddamn much it's ridiculous. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could explain the ribbing, the foot rubs, the way I don't have to explain anything because - four words into it - he gets exactly what I'm trying to say. How he was so quiet on Saturday morning that I didn't even hear him leave to go on his bike ride. The way he twitches when he sleeps. Carrying an extra gel for me today in case I "had a fit". The public spankings (not even kidding). How he is continually amazed that I have Neil Young and David Bowie on my play list. Taking my hand and randomly kissing it as we walked down to the pub.
Anyways, here is a post from my old blog from a year ago. My old blog came to an end in August of 2007 so I think I should have a bit of a party to celebrate in August 2008. Give a little re-cap on the year of Duder. It was an interesting year, for sure...
Hodge podge
I was really tired on Friday and went to bed shortly after 11 after going to the gym. The highlight of my evening was when I went to Subway. I don't go there very often. It was really great. The fellow that made my sandwich had some issues with enunciation. The sub-making process went like this:
Subway guy: "Would you like to get toasted?"
Duder: "What?"
Subway guy: "Would you like it toasted?"
Duder: "Uh... yeah."
Subway guy: "Are you easy?"
Duder: "I'm sorry, what?"
Subway guy: "Did you want cheese?"
Duder: "Yes please."
Subway guy: "Do you feel that you have reached a point in your life where you are stagnating, and are simply spinning your proverbial wheels, waiting for your life to unfold and offer up its secrets to you?"
I was really tired on Friday and went to bed shortly after 11 after going to the gym. The highlight of my evening was when I went to Subway. I don't go there very often. It was really great. The fellow that made my sandwich had some issues with enunciation. The sub-making process went like this:
Subway guy: "Would you like to get toasted?"
Duder: "What?"
Subway guy: "Would you like it toasted?"
Duder: "Uh... yeah."
Subway guy: "Are you easy?"
Duder: "I'm sorry, what?"
Subway guy: "Did you want cheese?"
Duder: "Yes please."
Subway guy: "Do you feel that you have reached a point in your life where you are stagnating, and are simply spinning your proverbial wheels, waiting for your life to unfold and offer up its secrets to you?"
Duder (starting to cry): "What?!?"
Subway guy: "What else do you want on it."
Duder (sniffling): "Everything except for the hot peppers."
Subway guy: "Carrots?"
Duder: "Carrots? What are you... oh, you guys have shredded carrots now. No, no carrots. I'll have some chips though."
Saturday morning I had coffee with Big D whom I had not seen for a very long time. He admired the holes in my drywall. It rained pretty hard. I almost snorted cappuccino out of my nose when a woman, running to get out of the rain, kind of ran into the door of the coffee shop. She had attempted a run/push the door open combo which went horribly awry because you have to pull the door to open it. The expression on her face was the human equivalent of what sparrows must look like when the collide with newly windexed glass. I guess I was an asshole to laugh, but it was pretty funny.
Michael came over later in the afternoon, and we watched Shaun of the Dead, which he hadn't yet seen. That's some funny shit. He also brought me treats, so he is currently my favourite person in the world. Then we went and met up with A, JupiterGirl and her new beau. Let's find a nickname for him. Let's call him... Salty. I was very happy to meet Salty: he was friendly, easy going, had a good sense of humor and seemed very relaxed. Michael liked him too.
It was great to JupiterGirl again; I hadn't seen her since she moved to the Island at the end of April. She looked good: tanned, kind of hippyish. She indicated that the "beeping" was getting to her. I said that I can't fall asleep at night unless I hear a car alarm going off, someone drag racing down 41st and the rustle of money being counted over in Shaughnessy. Then I dropped Michael off at the seabus, tried to watch MadTV, but decided sleep was more interesting.
Today! Brunch with N and Po. N is dating up a storm: I think she has one appointment every hour or something. I was exhausted just hearing about all the dates she has lined up. Po is in the fun dating limbo known as I-assumed-that-our-relationship-had-reached-a-point-whereby-it-was-felt-by-both-of-us-that-it-was-exclusive-so-why-do-you-still-have-an-online-dating-profile-up, and she's debating how to proceed. Because she is a rational, calm person I am sure she will deal with it in a rational, calm manner. My suggestion was to send strangely cryptic emails to him, whereby the problem becomes confusing and exacerbated and ultimately no one will know what the hell is going on. You know, because that's a fun thing to do.
Then I went home. Michael terrified me by regaling me with his first running clinic experience (my clinic starts on Thursday). He had been under the impression that they would be doing an 8km run. That impression was wrong: it was an 8 mile run, so like 13km or so. And he said that he was in the slow group. Well shit. He's significantly faster than I am. Maybe they'll just watch me run with my little egg-beater legs and, at the end of the run when they're all loitering at the finish line, waiting for me to cross with my little arms pumping like pistons and they'll hand me my money back and say, "You're too slow to run with the big dogs".
Then I went to Pier 1 and bought a little desk and chair because my laptop set up was, er, retarded to say the least. Now it's less so. Now it's like a normal human girl lives here. With her holes.
Duder (sniffling): "Everything except for the hot peppers."
Subway guy: "Carrots?"
Duder: "Carrots? What are you... oh, you guys have shredded carrots now. No, no carrots. I'll have some chips though."
Saturday morning I had coffee with Big D whom I had not seen for a very long time. He admired the holes in my drywall. It rained pretty hard. I almost snorted cappuccino out of my nose when a woman, running to get out of the rain, kind of ran into the door of the coffee shop. She had attempted a run/push the door open combo which went horribly awry because you have to pull the door to open it. The expression on her face was the human equivalent of what sparrows must look like when the collide with newly windexed glass. I guess I was an asshole to laugh, but it was pretty funny.
Michael came over later in the afternoon, and we watched Shaun of the Dead, which he hadn't yet seen. That's some funny shit. He also brought me treats, so he is currently my favourite person in the world. Then we went and met up with A, JupiterGirl and her new beau. Let's find a nickname for him. Let's call him... Salty. I was very happy to meet Salty: he was friendly, easy going, had a good sense of humor and seemed very relaxed. Michael liked him too.
It was great to JupiterGirl again; I hadn't seen her since she moved to the Island at the end of April. She looked good: tanned, kind of hippyish. She indicated that the "beeping" was getting to her. I said that I can't fall asleep at night unless I hear a car alarm going off, someone drag racing down 41st and the rustle of money being counted over in Shaughnessy. Then I dropped Michael off at the seabus, tried to watch MadTV, but decided sleep was more interesting.
Today! Brunch with N and Po. N is dating up a storm: I think she has one appointment every hour or something. I was exhausted just hearing about all the dates she has lined up. Po is in the fun dating limbo known as I-assumed-that-our-relationship-had-reached-a-point-whereby-it-was-felt-by-both-of-us-that-it-was-exclusive-so-why-do-you-still-have-an-online-dating-profile-up, and she's debating how to proceed. Because she is a rational, calm person I am sure she will deal with it in a rational, calm manner. My suggestion was to send strangely cryptic emails to him, whereby the problem becomes confusing and exacerbated and ultimately no one will know what the hell is going on. You know, because that's a fun thing to do.
Then I went home. Michael terrified me by regaling me with his first running clinic experience (my clinic starts on Thursday). He had been under the impression that they would be doing an 8km run. That impression was wrong: it was an 8 mile run, so like 13km or so. And he said that he was in the slow group. Well shit. He's significantly faster than I am. Maybe they'll just watch me run with my little egg-beater legs and, at the end of the run when they're all loitering at the finish line, waiting for me to cross with my little arms pumping like pistons and they'll hand me my money back and say, "You're too slow to run with the big dogs".
Then I went to Pier 1 and bought a little desk and chair because my laptop set up was, er, retarded to say the least. Now it's less so. Now it's like a normal human girl lives here. With her holes.
Uh-oh
Michael and I just ran 27 kilometres (three bridges, baby). That's not the problem. The problem is that after this, we went for lunch and had two beers a piece and now I'm kind of drunk and someone is coming over in an hour and my place is a mess and I'm sitting here blogging, per usual.
In other news: three bridges!!! Yay! When I got midway on the Lionsgate on the way home I jumped up and down like Rocky. I'm such a spazz.
In other news: three bridges!!! Yay! When I got midway on the Lionsgate on the way home I jumped up and down like Rocky. I'm such a spazz.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Murgh
I think I got too much sleep today. I know I ate too much at the Banana Leaf (me and Michael both). Oh my god that's good food, but it's too much food. And just when you think it's over? Yeah, out comes the deep fried banana with vanilla ice cream. Like what, I'm going to say no?
Anyways. Kind of a weird day. I feel really, really calm and unflappable and yet it's all tinged with this sadness, and I don't know where that's coming from. I don't know what triggered it (and no, it's not PMS since I got my period today and can't wait to do the math on how many extra strength Ibuprofens it's gonna take to get me through tomorrow's THIRTY KILOMETRE RUN) but it's been lingering since this afternoon.
Met with a bunch of people at the Banana Leaf on Broadway in Vancouver. It was so great to see JupiterGirl again: she looks fantastic. Michael said, "So when will you see her again?" and I guess it will at her wedding! Holy crap.
So here's my totally retarded thought of the day. Actually, I encourage all my readers to log off, tune out and go do something interesting, like scrubbing toilet bowls or coloring their hair instead of reading this shit, but it's my blog, it's my (literary) license, and it's my Saturday night.
Michael and I were coming back from dinner downtown and here's a rough synopsis of our conversation:
Duder: "So do you still not believe in marriage?"
Michael: "Yeah, my thoughts on marriage haven't changed."
Duder: "Huh."
Michael: "I don't think it's necessary. I mean, maybe it makes sense for a family unit, so the kids don't get confused, but if you're not having kids I don't see the point."
Duder: "Yeah."
Michael: "I think there's a lot of societal pressure for women to get married. It's like, when they get to a certain age, if they're not married there's something 'wrong' with them. Marriage doesn't change anything: there's nothing fundamentally different from a marriage and a long term relationship."
Duder: "I'd agree with that. I think, though, that for me, say it's 30% what society thinks and it's 70% what I think."
Michael: "It's just, there's no need for it. What's the point of marriage?"
Duder: "Yeah. I don't know. Actually, I change my mind: it's 30% what society thinks; 60% what I think; and 10% based on the sheer romance factor."
Anyways. I won't make a whinging pity party out of the whole thing. Who cares, right? It's logical. What's the point of marriage when the divorce rate is around 50%? I don't care what society thinks about me 99% of the time (have you seen how I dress and act??) so why should I care if society deems me a spinster for not being married at 31? I'm loved. I just don't have the rock to "prove" it. And what does the rock mean? My (unmarried) relationship is probably better than most married relationships.
So I thought about it. I thought, Duder, you little shit, what's the real issue here? Where's this consternation coming from? And it boils down to this: ego. I guess I want someone to be so totally over the moon about me that they would be willing to entertain the concept of eternity with me, even though that concept is pretty ridiculous. I mean, I had eternity a couple of years ago, and I put it on hold to 'sow my wild oats' or whatever you want to call it. People change, man. They change a great deal. They grow and want to experience other things. It's part of being an evolving person and I always want to be evolving. I don't want to stagnate or sit still or become complacent. Anyways, the more fundamental concern I have is that Michael might believe in marriage if he met the right person, and that perhaps I'm not that right person. I didn't really want to get married until I met Michael. So, uh, you finish that thought process for me.
Right. Fucking pathetic blog. You can poke holes in anything, and I do.
Once in a while I have these retarded, girlish fantasies wrought with romance and whimsy. Then I drink more wine, listen to more music, run more marathons and forget about it.
Anyways. Kind of a weird day. I feel really, really calm and unflappable and yet it's all tinged with this sadness, and I don't know where that's coming from. I don't know what triggered it (and no, it's not PMS since I got my period today and can't wait to do the math on how many extra strength Ibuprofens it's gonna take to get me through tomorrow's THIRTY KILOMETRE RUN) but it's been lingering since this afternoon.
Met with a bunch of people at the Banana Leaf on Broadway in Vancouver. It was so great to see JupiterGirl again: she looks fantastic. Michael said, "So when will you see her again?" and I guess it will at her wedding! Holy crap.
So here's my totally retarded thought of the day. Actually, I encourage all my readers to log off, tune out and go do something interesting, like scrubbing toilet bowls or coloring their hair instead of reading this shit, but it's my blog, it's my (literary) license, and it's my Saturday night.
Michael and I were coming back from dinner downtown and here's a rough synopsis of our conversation:
Duder: "So do you still not believe in marriage?"
Michael: "Yeah, my thoughts on marriage haven't changed."
Duder: "Huh."
Michael: "I don't think it's necessary. I mean, maybe it makes sense for a family unit, so the kids don't get confused, but if you're not having kids I don't see the point."
Duder: "Yeah."
Michael: "I think there's a lot of societal pressure for women to get married. It's like, when they get to a certain age, if they're not married there's something 'wrong' with them. Marriage doesn't change anything: there's nothing fundamentally different from a marriage and a long term relationship."
Duder: "I'd agree with that. I think, though, that for me, say it's 30% what society thinks and it's 70% what I think."
Michael: "It's just, there's no need for it. What's the point of marriage?"
Duder: "Yeah. I don't know. Actually, I change my mind: it's 30% what society thinks; 60% what I think; and 10% based on the sheer romance factor."
Anyways. I won't make a whinging pity party out of the whole thing. Who cares, right? It's logical. What's the point of marriage when the divorce rate is around 50%? I don't care what society thinks about me 99% of the time (have you seen how I dress and act??) so why should I care if society deems me a spinster for not being married at 31? I'm loved. I just don't have the rock to "prove" it. And what does the rock mean? My (unmarried) relationship is probably better than most married relationships.
So I thought about it. I thought, Duder, you little shit, what's the real issue here? Where's this consternation coming from? And it boils down to this: ego. I guess I want someone to be so totally over the moon about me that they would be willing to entertain the concept of eternity with me, even though that concept is pretty ridiculous. I mean, I had eternity a couple of years ago, and I put it on hold to 'sow my wild oats' or whatever you want to call it. People change, man. They change a great deal. They grow and want to experience other things. It's part of being an evolving person and I always want to be evolving. I don't want to stagnate or sit still or become complacent. Anyways, the more fundamental concern I have is that Michael might believe in marriage if he met the right person, and that perhaps I'm not that right person. I didn't really want to get married until I met Michael. So, uh, you finish that thought process for me.
Right. Fucking pathetic blog. You can poke holes in anything, and I do.
Once in a while I have these retarded, girlish fantasies wrought with romance and whimsy. Then I drink more wine, listen to more music, run more marathons and forget about it.
Quiet
I'm at Michael's. He got up at 8:30ish to go for a bike ride with some people from our running club. I was invited as well, but lamented that I didn't have a bike, therefore could not join them. Apparently J has a spare bike and was willing to lend it to me (encouraging me by saying "it's light") and I pretty much had to admit that I just really wanted to sleep in today. And sleep I did. I got out of bed at 11:30. Michael has a realllllly comfy bed with a pillow top. Not to be confused with a muffin top.
Looks like a brilliant day out there. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, the day that Michael and I have set aside to run the two bridges. Stupid global warming. Oh! Speaking of stupid: I've watched a lot of television since last night (I don't have cable at home). Holy shit am I happy I don't have cable at home. I am very, very convinced that watching television is bad for you. No one should watch t.v. Ever.
Spent an inordinate amount of time reading Overboard's blog. I am simply addicted to it. The thing that really struck me today is how women (myself included) are just really wanting to be in love and to be loved to the point that they overlook several warning signs and don't heed sound advice from their friends, end up in ridiculous positions, manage to extricate themselves from said positions, look back on the tumultuous relationship somewhat sadly because they're still half in love with that person, and then beat themselves up for having been stupid and are embarrassed to admit to having done such dumb things. And I thought I was the only one!! And maybe we are stupid because we're naive and hopeful and want good, happy, romantic things and perhaps that's idealistic (and leads to lots of pain), but I think it's better than being a lying scumbag loser whose transgressions will ultimately catch up to him and will die alone because he's emotionally and intellectually stunted.
I should go. My hair is sticking up everywhere and I don't have a hat with me. I hope to make the nine blocks up the hill without the Queen of England seeing me.
Looks like a brilliant day out there. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, the day that Michael and I have set aside to run the two bridges. Stupid global warming. Oh! Speaking of stupid: I've watched a lot of television since last night (I don't have cable at home). Holy shit am I happy I don't have cable at home. I am very, very convinced that watching television is bad for you. No one should watch t.v. Ever.
Spent an inordinate amount of time reading Overboard's blog. I am simply addicted to it. The thing that really struck me today is how women (myself included) are just really wanting to be in love and to be loved to the point that they overlook several warning signs and don't heed sound advice from their friends, end up in ridiculous positions, manage to extricate themselves from said positions, look back on the tumultuous relationship somewhat sadly because they're still half in love with that person, and then beat themselves up for having been stupid and are embarrassed to admit to having done such dumb things. And I thought I was the only one!! And maybe we are stupid because we're naive and hopeful and want good, happy, romantic things and perhaps that's idealistic (and leads to lots of pain), but I think it's better than being a lying scumbag loser whose transgressions will ultimately catch up to him and will die alone because he's emotionally and intellectually stunted.
I should go. My hair is sticking up everywhere and I don't have a hat with me. I hope to make the nine blocks up the hill without the Queen of England seeing me.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Word of the day
The word of the day is "vicinity". You know, there have been some words that have come up on the word of the day site that I admit I didn't know what they meant or perhaps I had slightly misunderstood. But vicinity? Let's use it in a sentence.
"Well," Duder exuded, reclining back in her chair and imbibing some Californian Zinfadel, "allow me to posit that the reason the world is in the state it's in is because a segment of our populace lacks comprehension of such words as 'vicinity'. That, and our perpetual penchant for bottled water and reality t.v.," she continued. "This trifecta is clearly the true 'Axis of Evil'."
"Well," Duder exuded, reclining back in her chair and imbibing some Californian Zinfadel, "allow me to posit that the reason the world is in the state it's in is because a segment of our populace lacks comprehension of such words as 'vicinity'. That, and our perpetual penchant for bottled water and reality t.v.," she continued. "This trifecta is clearly the true 'Axis of Evil'."
Detroit deserved it
Yep. For a bunch of old guys, the Red Wings kicked ass. I wanted Pittsburgh to win, and it was so exciting when they came close to tying the game in the final seconds, but Detroit outplayed them. Ah well. I got to have a kick ass burritto from Red Burrito (ohmygodsogood) and half a chocolate bar and chips and dip and vegetables and beer. Michael had quite the spread. I caught him trying to shove more chocolate into my little take-home container but forced out it. Yeah, it sounds like love, but it's really sabotage. The marathon clinic doesn't even start until June 15th, but Michael is already running with the "Run Fast" group on Tuesday nights. Facker. Pretty soon he's going to be too cool to be seen with me at the clinic! Yawn. I think I will try and run home from work again tomorrow, but it's supposed to rain I worry about my Shuffle because I'm a whingeing, materialistic baby and I can't run without my bitchin' tunes.
Sorry folks. Another totally boring blog.
I love burritos from Red Burrito. I didn't eat all of mine (they weigh about six pounds each), so Michael packed it up with some veggies for me and it's in the fridge and I'm not even hungry but I want to eat it. I have to measure this desire carefully against my overall reluctance to make lunches because, as it stands, it's going to be my lunch tomorrow. It's tough, these choices I have to make. Like when she said "red or brown tortilla?" and "mild or hot sauce?". Oh my god!? What, am I a high-powered executive paid to make such cutting-edge and integral decisions? I just want the food to get from the rotating spit into my belly. I kid. The woman there was super nice. I tipped her. I tip the people at Subway too. I mean, if I tip some waitress at a restaurant that is spending an inordinate amount of time arranging my boyfriend's napkin in his lap for him, then why not the hardworking (albeit more "normal" looking) people that work at other locales? I don't like rewarding people because they happen to be born good looking.
Anyways. This is how you start off with the Stanley Cup and end up with objectification.
Sorry folks. Another totally boring blog.
I love burritos from Red Burrito. I didn't eat all of mine (they weigh about six pounds each), so Michael packed it up with some veggies for me and it's in the fridge and I'm not even hungry but I want to eat it. I have to measure this desire carefully against my overall reluctance to make lunches because, as it stands, it's going to be my lunch tomorrow. It's tough, these choices I have to make. Like when she said "red or brown tortilla?" and "mild or hot sauce?". Oh my god!? What, am I a high-powered executive paid to make such cutting-edge and integral decisions? I just want the food to get from the rotating spit into my belly. I kid. The woman there was super nice. I tipped her. I tip the people at Subway too. I mean, if I tip some waitress at a restaurant that is spending an inordinate amount of time arranging my boyfriend's napkin in his lap for him, then why not the hardworking (albeit more "normal" looking) people that work at other locales? I don't like rewarding people because they happen to be born good looking.
Anyways. This is how you start off with the Stanley Cup and end up with objectification.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Obviously, doctor, you've never been a 13 year old girl.
Watched "The Virgin Suicides" tonight. Am still pondering it. Yep.
In other news, I am going over to Michael's tomorrow night to watch game 6 of the Stanley Cup. I haven't really watched hockey for a couple of years now. The last game I saw I actually went to with C and the Canucks were already out of the playoffs, so he gave me the ticket for cheap. But it is the Stanley Cup and, apparently, I am willing to sit into triple overtime (as evidenced last night), so I need to see this through. Plus? Michael and I are having fun. He seems suspiciously excited that I am coming over tomorrow night. And the game starts at 5pm (this is to be read that: he's leaving work early and he's missing a workout). The capper? He's like, "so what kind of beer should I pick up?" and then he made a joke about Coors Light.
My new boss starts tomorrow and I'm already being bitchy. No, I'm sure it'll be fine. Actually, I anticipate being made redundant within a year. Guess I better work on my scheming master plan to defraud the company of millions sooner rather than later. Oh right... we're not cash flow positive. Damnit.
Wow. Boring.
Stayed true to my weirdness and wore capri pants and sandals and relished all the spring puddles today.
This is the shit, eh? This is why you tune in.
In other news, I am going over to Michael's tomorrow night to watch game 6 of the Stanley Cup. I haven't really watched hockey for a couple of years now. The last game I saw I actually went to with C and the Canucks were already out of the playoffs, so he gave me the ticket for cheap. But it is the Stanley Cup and, apparently, I am willing to sit into triple overtime (as evidenced last night), so I need to see this through. Plus? Michael and I are having fun. He seems suspiciously excited that I am coming over tomorrow night. And the game starts at 5pm (this is to be read that: he's leaving work early and he's missing a workout). The capper? He's like, "so what kind of beer should I pick up?" and then he made a joke about Coors Light.
My new boss starts tomorrow and I'm already being bitchy. No, I'm sure it'll be fine. Actually, I anticipate being made redundant within a year. Guess I better work on my scheming master plan to defraud the company of millions sooner rather than later. Oh right... we're not cash flow positive. Damnit.
Wow. Boring.
Stayed true to my weirdness and wore capri pants and sandals and relished all the spring puddles today.
This is the shit, eh? This is why you tune in.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Random notes
I promise to stop being bad.
And to be good. Mostly. Or as often as I can.
I need to run the two bridges.
How did Pittsburgh pull that game out of their ass and how many times did we have to see the blood free-flowing from Malone's nose? Key-rist.
Sometimes listening to Janis's "Ball and Chain" is overwhelming and I can't believe she's dead.
I have to run a half marathon in three weeks.
My property taxes are due and for the past couple of weeks it's like every time I turn around I have to pay exorbitant sums of money.
I could, conceivably, beat the shite out of the people that live below Michael. I won't even get into it I'm so goddamn pissed.
I need a haircut.
JupiterGirl is coming to town next weekend!
It's not healthy to live on coffee, wine and iron pills.
And to be good. Mostly. Or as often as I can.
I need to run the two bridges.
How did Pittsburgh pull that game out of their ass and how many times did we have to see the blood free-flowing from Malone's nose? Key-rist.
Sometimes listening to Janis's "Ball and Chain" is overwhelming and I can't believe she's dead.
I have to run a half marathon in three weeks.
My property taxes are due and for the past couple of weeks it's like every time I turn around I have to pay exorbitant sums of money.
I could, conceivably, beat the shite out of the people that live below Michael. I won't even get into it I'm so goddamn pissed.
I need a haircut.
JupiterGirl is coming to town next weekend!
It's not healthy to live on coffee, wine and iron pills.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Karmic realignment
Some things you accomplish. Some things you pull out of your ass. I pulled one out of my ass today. Or maybe I had a good karma backlog. Stored karma - to be used on a cloudy day.
Sheer and unfettered hedonism doesn't work. Look, I'm starting with the most fun philosophies first, okay? I'll come and nationalize all your wine when I hit Leninsm (yes: I will stop reading Ayn Rand now).
But back to pure hedonism: it doesn't work. Strike that: it works if you don't care about other people's feelings and you don't mind that you'll quite possibly end up alone. See, the most pleasurable things that I do involve the people that I care the most about, and if I'm totally individualistic as to my pleasure-seeking and don't take the nano-second of inflection necessary to determine that my behaviour is harmful to... the people that I garner pleasure from being around, then I'm ultimately going to be fucked. But not in a good way.
Speaking of fucking, has anyone seen "23" with Jim Carrey? Holy crap. Uh, he's come a long way from "Ace Venture: Pet Detective". Hot. Damn.
But this was about karma, and not the fact that I'm undersexed. My karma has been realigned.
So, to totally blow your mind, what is the term for the thing/entity/visage/concept that has realigned my karma?
Sheer and unfettered hedonism doesn't work. Look, I'm starting with the most fun philosophies first, okay? I'll come and nationalize all your wine when I hit Leninsm (yes: I will stop reading Ayn Rand now).
But back to pure hedonism: it doesn't work. Strike that: it works if you don't care about other people's feelings and you don't mind that you'll quite possibly end up alone. See, the most pleasurable things that I do involve the people that I care the most about, and if I'm totally individualistic as to my pleasure-seeking and don't take the nano-second of inflection necessary to determine that my behaviour is harmful to... the people that I garner pleasure from being around, then I'm ultimately going to be fucked. But not in a good way.
Speaking of fucking, has anyone seen "23" with Jim Carrey? Holy crap. Uh, he's come a long way from "Ace Venture: Pet Detective". Hot. Damn.
But this was about karma, and not the fact that I'm undersexed. My karma has been realigned.
So, to totally blow your mind, what is the term for the thing/entity/visage/concept that has realigned my karma?
Sigh
I'm such an arsehole.
Here is a picture of the duck giving a flower to Picachu. I am the duck (easily wound up and fun to play with when drinking) and Po is Picachu and the flower is a symbol of our friendship. Either that or the duck represents the Russian proletariats giving up their labour and their individuality to Picachu, who is actually Lenin.
I forget which.
Right
I didn't just fall of the karmic path. No, it's more like I stumbled off it and then tripped and slid down a ravine and landed on a bunch of jagged rocks and stinging nettles.
Let's look at this more closely: to continue to enjoy my life and all the good times it has to offer I had to show up to celebrate a friend's accomplishment at a trendy eatery in East Van. I'll break it down further for the slow kids in the back: in order to continue to have an enjoyable life I needed to go out and do something enjoyable today. Instead I flipped a friend of eighteen years the proverbial bird on a day deigned to celebrate her incredible accomplishment.
Wow.
Let's look at this more closely: to continue to enjoy my life and all the good times it has to offer I had to show up to celebrate a friend's accomplishment at a trendy eatery in East Van. I'll break it down further for the slow kids in the back: in order to continue to have an enjoyable life I needed to go out and do something enjoyable today. Instead I flipped a friend of eighteen years the proverbial bird on a day deigned to celebrate her incredible accomplishment.
Wow.
Messing things up
Yeah. I forgot there was a downside to hedonism: irresponsibility. Po had her book launch today and called me to see if I would come to celebrate with her and I said that I didn't think I would cause I hadn't seen Michael since Thursday and I was hoping to see him today.
Dumb fucking thing to say. I'm pretty sure I can see Michael another time. I'm pretty sure Po doesn't publish books every day.
Called her back (got vm, naturally) and apologized and said I would come down if she wanted. She hasn't called back, surprisingly.
This definitely makes the top ten most retarded things I have ever done list.
Dumb fucking thing to say. I'm pretty sure I can see Michael another time. I'm pretty sure Po doesn't publish books every day.
Called her back (got vm, naturally) and apologized and said I would come down if she wanted. She hasn't called back, surprisingly.
This definitely makes the top ten most retarded things I have ever done list.
I have the hiccups
This blog is more than not evidence that I am still up at 3.30am. What the fuck. Gonna be so screwed tomorrow.
Fuck. I feel like... you know, it doesn't matter. Nada. Still with the effing hiccups. Bed now. But Sarah Harmer keeps coming on.. goddamnit. "Greeting Card Aisle". Fuck. Approaching a level of exhaustion heretofore unparalleled.
Can't spell or type. Awesome.
Fuck. I feel like... you know, it doesn't matter. Nada. Still with the effing hiccups. Bed now. But Sarah Harmer keeps coming on.. goddamnit. "Greeting Card Aisle". Fuck. Approaching a level of exhaustion heretofore unparalleled.
Can't spell or type. Awesome.
Yar
Fack. I can't stop reading this blog: http://www.ihaveaboat.blogspot.com/.
What did I do today, you ask? I read the aforementioned blog for an hour on my deck and got burned again. Then I had some icecream and a nap. Then I went to get my windshield repaired cause a rock hit it when I was heading into... somewhere last weekend. Then. Ergh. I drank some wine and C came over and I ate about four pounds of wasabi peas and pistachios and drank a lot of wine and he hadn't seen "Idiocracy" so we watched that, and goddamn it's still funny the second time around. Then I went back to the above mentioned blog.
Shit. Shit fuck goddmanit. At some point on Friday night someone said something to the effect that I should quit marathoning. Yeah, really? I'd love to. And I feel bad because it's closing in on THREE AM and I'm still putzing around and so yet again I shall not run tomorrow. But I have to train for marathons because of all the wasabi peas and wine and the chocolate bar that C gave me tonight. One frickin' chocolate bar! The bastard had sixteen of the things.
Urm. Something something. I'm a petulant bitch.
I don't want to go to bed!
The new Radiohead song "House of Cards" is awesome. The whole album is awesome. Wine is awesome. I'm a hedonsist. What else is new.
What did I do today, you ask? I read the aforementioned blog for an hour on my deck and got burned again. Then I had some icecream and a nap. Then I went to get my windshield repaired cause a rock hit it when I was heading into... somewhere last weekend. Then. Ergh. I drank some wine and C came over and I ate about four pounds of wasabi peas and pistachios and drank a lot of wine and he hadn't seen "Idiocracy" so we watched that, and goddamn it's still funny the second time around. Then I went back to the above mentioned blog.
Shit. Shit fuck goddmanit. At some point on Friday night someone said something to the effect that I should quit marathoning. Yeah, really? I'd love to. And I feel bad because it's closing in on THREE AM and I'm still putzing around and so yet again I shall not run tomorrow. But I have to train for marathons because of all the wasabi peas and wine and the chocolate bar that C gave me tonight. One frickin' chocolate bar! The bastard had sixteen of the things.
Urm. Something something. I'm a petulant bitch.
I don't want to go to bed!
The new Radiohead song "House of Cards" is awesome. The whole album is awesome. Wine is awesome. I'm a hedonsist. What else is new.
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