It's a relatively low energy day, all of my classmates, including myself are minimally exuberant today.
Perhaps, it's the change in the weather. After two weeks of gorgeous sunshine, it's gone back to the typical spring Vancouver drizzle.
However, it's not just here. Not from what I've been told from friends on MSN across the globe. Perhaps it's because it's already the end of February, and the past two months have flown by insanely fast. People seem a little overwhelmed with the speed that the year has progressed at.
I'm still reeling over the fact that I've already had the majority of my mid-terms, and that the end of first term is going to be the 15th of April, with my 25th birthday just around the corner from that.
Finances, as usual, are tightening the noose around my neck, and I'm starting to worry a slight bit about how much I've invested into my business partnership, and the subsequent drain on my funds, as well as the potential amount I'll need to spend in the near future. I'm a little worried about second and third term tuition.
I haven't had a shift at the little European bakery I work at, since before New Years... Partially due to lack of hours available at my actual place of employment, and partially due to the fact that I'm so busy with school, that I limited my availability for the first couple of months.
Granted, I've got offers to work the first two weeks of my break between terms, and hopefully, I'll be able to squeeze in some consulting work to supplement my income throughout second and third term.
Maybe I'll win the lottery... Yeah... Right.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Today...
On a whim, while stopping at the local supermarket after my evening coffee with a girlfriend, I bought my Grandmother a dozen sunrise roses.
Being that I'm sentimental, and she has no one to buy her flowers anymore, I thought it was a nice thing to do, and she did appreciate them. They smelled divine, and looked so pretty.
When I got them wrapped at the counter, the boy that was helping me, was about 20 years old, and mildly mentally handicapped. He was the sweetest, most apologetic person I've ever met in my entire life, even going so far as to say "If I'm doing this wrong, please let me know."
I could have cried. I almost did.
On a day to day basis, I'm constantly harangued by individuals that seem to have lost the joy for life, or the sweetness that is lacking in society. This gentle soul, who struggles with a handicap, has the courtesy to apologize before he's done anything wrong, or if he seems to be taking too long doing what he's been deigned to do.
I helped him arrange the flowers, explaining why I was setting them where they were going, which is something not many customers would have the patience, or the interest to do. I also told him not to worry when he was apologizing to me. He told me his mum showed him how to arrange flowers, and he still didn't understand how to do it properly.
I wondered how often people lose patience with him, and if the reason why is because they would never know what it was like to have that handicap. I don't personally know, but I have an inkling of how difficult it could be, in a world where people have no patience.
I know the chances are slim to none, that he reads blogs... However, that fact aside, I still want to thank him, for reminding me that I still have a bit of patience, and compassion left in this cantankerous, jaded old heart of mine.
Thank you Robert. You did a marvelous job, and meeting you was one of the brilliant bright spots in my day.
Being that I'm sentimental, and she has no one to buy her flowers anymore, I thought it was a nice thing to do, and she did appreciate them. They smelled divine, and looked so pretty.
When I got them wrapped at the counter, the boy that was helping me, was about 20 years old, and mildly mentally handicapped. He was the sweetest, most apologetic person I've ever met in my entire life, even going so far as to say "If I'm doing this wrong, please let me know."
I could have cried. I almost did.
On a day to day basis, I'm constantly harangued by individuals that seem to have lost the joy for life, or the sweetness that is lacking in society. This gentle soul, who struggles with a handicap, has the courtesy to apologize before he's done anything wrong, or if he seems to be taking too long doing what he's been deigned to do.
I helped him arrange the flowers, explaining why I was setting them where they were going, which is something not many customers would have the patience, or the interest to do. I also told him not to worry when he was apologizing to me. He told me his mum showed him how to arrange flowers, and he still didn't understand how to do it properly.
I wondered how often people lose patience with him, and if the reason why is because they would never know what it was like to have that handicap. I don't personally know, but I have an inkling of how difficult it could be, in a world where people have no patience.
I know the chances are slim to none, that he reads blogs... However, that fact aside, I still want to thank him, for reminding me that I still have a bit of patience, and compassion left in this cantankerous, jaded old heart of mine.
Thank you Robert. You did a marvelous job, and meeting you was one of the brilliant bright spots in my day.
"How About That Weather?"
In this city, much like the fabled Camelot, the occurance of rain is pretty much expected. Except for us, it's never limited to the evening, it's all day long.
For the past two weeks, we've experienced relatively balmy conditions. Gorgeous, warm, sunshine-filled days, that seem to be making people think that it's June, instead of February, and making it extremely difficult to be stuck inside a classroom with the blinds drawn for pretty much the entire day.
Not that I'm seriously complaining, but it sure is damned odd weather for the Lower Mainland, for this time of year.
Glorious Tinseltown, The playground of Celebrities and actors, has been under torrential downpour, to the point where some areas of Hollywood, (like Hollywood Boulevard) have had standing water, up to two feet in height in some areas.
Sunny California is getting waterlogged, and sodden Vancouver, is getting... Sunshine?
Who rolled the eight sided dice on that fate event? Good Job, Ahhhhnold.
It's the beginning of the Apocalypse. I swear. Soon we'll see the Four Horsemen thundering across the sky, swords (or whatever, maybe I'm mixing up my L.O.T.R. with Religion...) brandished, ready to wreak havoc on the dumbasses that thought we were going to get some nice weather.
Well, enough of that for now.
I'm off to go tanning, and play in the sunshine until those Apocalyptic Horsemen come screaming around the corner, looking for "My Preciousssssssss...."
For the past two weeks, we've experienced relatively balmy conditions. Gorgeous, warm, sunshine-filled days, that seem to be making people think that it's June, instead of February, and making it extremely difficult to be stuck inside a classroom with the blinds drawn for pretty much the entire day.
Not that I'm seriously complaining, but it sure is damned odd weather for the Lower Mainland, for this time of year.
Glorious Tinseltown, The playground of Celebrities and actors, has been under torrential downpour, to the point where some areas of Hollywood, (like Hollywood Boulevard) have had standing water, up to two feet in height in some areas.
Sunny California is getting waterlogged, and sodden Vancouver, is getting... Sunshine?
Who rolled the eight sided dice on that fate event? Good Job, Ahhhhnold.
It's the beginning of the Apocalypse. I swear. Soon we'll see the Four Horsemen thundering across the sky, swords (or whatever, maybe I'm mixing up my L.O.T.R. with Religion...) brandished, ready to wreak havoc on the dumbasses that thought we were going to get some nice weather.
Well, enough of that for now.
I'm off to go tanning, and play in the sunshine until those Apocalyptic Horsemen come screaming around the corner, looking for "My Preciousssssssss...."
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Meet "Baby."
Music of the moment: "I Love Myself Today" -- Bif Naked
This is a note for anyone that generalizes Rotties as nasty, vicious, violent animals.
"Baby" is 125 pounds of solid, stocky, purebred Rottweiler. When she's standing, the top of her head is at my waist. When she's on her hind legs leaning up against the fence behind her, she's almost as tall as I am. (five feet, eight and a half inches.)
This picture doesn't do her size justice. She's one damned big dog.
Baby LOVES me. (That's okay, I love her too.)
The ONLY thing I've seen Baby chew on, is a very frequently masticated tennis ball, which is usually dropped at my feet to be tossed across the yard so that she can thunder across the deck.
The only times she's ever pushed me off of my feet, is when I've been scratching behind her ears and she's leaning against me so that I scratch harder.
She has NEVER attacked anyone.
Dogs aren't vicious, the people that abuse them and make them that way are.
This is coming from a girl that's been bitten seven times by assorted dogs. I don't usually trust them, but Baby is another matter entirely. Her entire demeanor is one of protection, affection, devotion, and playfulness.
If you treat an animal with love, respect, and fair discipline, you will never have a problem unless that animal is mentally unbalanced.
I love this dog, and she isn't even mine. She's such a suck for lovins, and has the softest ears I've ever felt in my life. All she has to do is put her chin on my knee, look up at me with her big brown eyes. I always seem to cave, and give her a good scratching.
I'm such a pushover.
This is a note for anyone that generalizes Rotties as nasty, vicious, violent animals.
"Baby" is 125 pounds of solid, stocky, purebred Rottweiler. When she's standing, the top of her head is at my waist. When she's on her hind legs leaning up against the fence behind her, she's almost as tall as I am. (five feet, eight and a half inches.)
This picture doesn't do her size justice. She's one damned big dog.
Baby LOVES me. (That's okay, I love her too.)
The ONLY thing I've seen Baby chew on, is a very frequently masticated tennis ball, which is usually dropped at my feet to be tossed across the yard so that she can thunder across the deck.
The only times she's ever pushed me off of my feet, is when I've been scratching behind her ears and she's leaning against me so that I scratch harder.
She has NEVER attacked anyone.
Dogs aren't vicious, the people that abuse them and make them that way are.
This is coming from a girl that's been bitten seven times by assorted dogs. I don't usually trust them, but Baby is another matter entirely. Her entire demeanor is one of protection, affection, devotion, and playfulness.
If you treat an animal with love, respect, and fair discipline, you will never have a problem unless that animal is mentally unbalanced.
I love this dog, and she isn't even mine. She's such a suck for lovins, and has the softest ears I've ever felt in my life. All she has to do is put her chin on my knee, look up at me with her big brown eyes. I always seem to cave, and give her a good scratching.
I'm such a pushover.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Mid-term Madness...
Before I even knew it, my midterms hit me like a truckload of bricks.
Ouch.
Being that this is my first foray into post secondary education, I really didn't expect how heavy an amount of work this would entail.
Of course, my small business decides to get in action at EXACTLY the same time as midterms, ensuring that I wouldn't get ANY sleep for the next week and a half. I'm the equivalent of a walking corpse right now. I'm lucky if I find time to eat dinner, and have a shower, in between trying to make my midterm assignments look as slick as possible.
My room? Fuhgeddabouddit.
I'm looking forward to when this is over so I can clean up the clutter happening in there. My desk looks like some sort of nuclear bomb smashed against it's surface, and exploded a shitload of candy wrappers, notes scattered everywhere, water bottles, advil and contact lense solution to lube up my eyes, from staring at my screen all damned day.
Laundry however, is quite managable, being that I don't have to actually DO anything other than put the laundry in the machine and turn it on, and then go upstairs from the dungeon and swap it over to the dryer.
I'm still determined to take my time to myself in the tanning bed, to lie there, slathered in oil, and expose my pasty-white French Canadian skin to some Ultraviolets. Even if it's only ten minutes a session, it's ten minutes where I get to lie down, close my eyes, and feel all warm and cozy.
It's really helped with the seasonal depression that I used to suffer from.
I've also scheduled another massage for next Friday, after midterms, but before the nuclear fallout that is final projects hits my desk. Lo'd knows I need it.
Anyways, Back to class for this slacker.
Cheers.
Linds.
Ouch.
Being that this is my first foray into post secondary education, I really didn't expect how heavy an amount of work this would entail.
Of course, my small business decides to get in action at EXACTLY the same time as midterms, ensuring that I wouldn't get ANY sleep for the next week and a half. I'm the equivalent of a walking corpse right now. I'm lucky if I find time to eat dinner, and have a shower, in between trying to make my midterm assignments look as slick as possible.
My room? Fuhgeddabouddit.
I'm looking forward to when this is over so I can clean up the clutter happening in there. My desk looks like some sort of nuclear bomb smashed against it's surface, and exploded a shitload of candy wrappers, notes scattered everywhere, water bottles, advil and contact lense solution to lube up my eyes, from staring at my screen all damned day.
Laundry however, is quite managable, being that I don't have to actually DO anything other than put the laundry in the machine and turn it on, and then go upstairs from the dungeon and swap it over to the dryer.
I'm still determined to take my time to myself in the tanning bed, to lie there, slathered in oil, and expose my pasty-white French Canadian skin to some Ultraviolets. Even if it's only ten minutes a session, it's ten minutes where I get to lie down, close my eyes, and feel all warm and cozy.
It's really helped with the seasonal depression that I used to suffer from.
I've also scheduled another massage for next Friday, after midterms, but before the nuclear fallout that is final projects hits my desk. Lo'd knows I need it.
Anyways, Back to class for this slacker.
Cheers.
Linds.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Music is my Heroin...Tunes to Groove by Version 0.4
Album: American Idiot
Artist: Green Day
Genre: "Alternative/Punk"
I've always been in love with the punky, whiny, extremely gifted vocals of Billie Joe Armstrong, and the quick tempo of the drums and guitars that Green Day is known for.
I saw them live once at Edgefest about four summers ago, and they proceeded to trash the stage, lighting their drum set on fire, and having one solid guitar note whine for about 20 minutes, and then watching Billie Joe proceed to smash the shit out of his guitar. While thinking it was rather juvenile, and "If he doesn't want his goddamned guitar, I'd take the bloody thing," I was secretly thrilled to bits at the "badassness" of it all. It was a very "Rock and Fuckin' Roll" moment. Though the whining guitar note got on my nerves after 15 minutes or so. They must have run through their set relatively quickly that night.
Obviously it was a stellar performance, seeing as I still remember it like yesterday.
I've always had a soft spot for those punk rockers. They're always smart boys, masked in shit disturber motives.
I picked up the newest Green Day release a few days ago. Wow. That's what I've got to say about this album.
Well, wow, and a whole fuck-of-a-lot more.
It's amazingly tight. These boys got it together and then some. I haven't noticed any sloppy rhythm, vocals or guitars through the whole album.
Politically savvy, poking fun at right-wing politics, homophobia, religion, and everything in between, it's quite simply amazing. Imagine a Punk-Rock musical. It's kind of in the style of "Jesus Christ Superstar," "Hair,"(to a degree) the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and half a dozen other musicals that I could name off the top of my head.
Technically this album is only 13 tracks, but there are sub-sets for each track, sectioning it off into about five pieces on two tracks, plus the remaining 11. That's a helluva lot of Green Day, displaying versatility you would NEVER expect.
My particular favourites, being the introductory "American Idiot," the first and fourth part of "Jesus Of Suburbia,"("Jesus of Suburbia" and "Dearly Beloved.")
"Dearly Beloved" is only about 45 seconds long, typical for some punk songs, and is fantastic. My favourite line from it is:
The absolutely STELLAR "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" (I think I listened to it about nine times today alone.) Which starts off with of all things, the guitar run through a Hurdy Gurdy machine, giving it a slightly melencholy, underwater feeling. Beautifully composed, and simple lyrically, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" is something I easily sympathize with. It's a mixture of ballad and punk. Go figure that shit out.
This song is stunning, perhaps because of it's simplicity. I'm going to go so far as to call it epic sounding. (That's ballsy for me.)
I love the way Billie Joe's vocals flip all over the place in "She's A Rebel." He's all over his vocal range like a fat kid on a smartie.
The same goes for "Extraordinary Girl" vocal range wise, but sounds East Indian influenced. What a fucking trip.
"Wake Me Up When September Ends" is another relatively sweet ballad, much like "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)" from the album "Nimrod," released in 1997.
I was always so jealous that Elizabeth got that song as her Grad song, and I got stuck with the gawdawful Celine Dion -- "My Heart Will Go On" shite.
Out of a Glamazon shoe rating of 5, "Green Day -- American Idiot" gets 5/5 Shoes.
Let's just say that these guys made one friggin' AMAZING album. I highly recommend it.
I saw them live once at Edgefest about four summers ago, and they proceeded to trash the stage, lighting their drum set on fire, and having one solid guitar note whine for about 20 minutes, and then watching Billie Joe proceed to smash the shit out of his guitar. While thinking it was rather juvenile, and "If he doesn't want his goddamned guitar, I'd take the bloody thing," I was secretly thrilled to bits at the "badassness" of it all. It was a very "Rock and Fuckin' Roll" moment. Though the whining guitar note got on my nerves after 15 minutes or so. They must have run through their set relatively quickly that night.
Obviously it was a stellar performance, seeing as I still remember it like yesterday.
I've always had a soft spot for those punk rockers. They're always smart boys, masked in shit disturber motives.
I picked up the newest Green Day release a few days ago. Wow. That's what I've got to say about this album.
Well, wow, and a whole fuck-of-a-lot more.
It's amazingly tight. These boys got it together and then some. I haven't noticed any sloppy rhythm, vocals or guitars through the whole album.
Politically savvy, poking fun at right-wing politics, homophobia, religion, and everything in between, it's quite simply amazing. Imagine a Punk-Rock musical. It's kind of in the style of "Jesus Christ Superstar," "Hair,"(to a degree) the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and half a dozen other musicals that I could name off the top of my head.
Technically this album is only 13 tracks, but there are sub-sets for each track, sectioning it off into about five pieces on two tracks, plus the remaining 11. That's a helluva lot of Green Day, displaying versatility you would NEVER expect.
My particular favourites, being the introductory "American Idiot," the first and fourth part of "Jesus Of Suburbia,"("Jesus of Suburbia" and "Dearly Beloved.")
"Dearly Beloved" is only about 45 seconds long, typical for some punk songs, and is fantastic. My favourite line from it is:
"Am I retarded, or am I just overjoyed?"I actually started laughing on the Skytrain when I heard it this morning. Brilliant.
The absolutely STELLAR "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" (I think I listened to it about nine times today alone.) Which starts off with of all things, the guitar run through a Hurdy Gurdy machine, giving it a slightly melencholy, underwater feeling. Beautifully composed, and simple lyrically, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" is something I easily sympathize with. It's a mixture of ballad and punk. Go figure that shit out.
This song is stunning, perhaps because of it's simplicity. I'm going to go so far as to call it epic sounding. (That's ballsy for me.)
I love the way Billie Joe's vocals flip all over the place in "She's A Rebel." He's all over his vocal range like a fat kid on a smartie.
The same goes for "Extraordinary Girl" vocal range wise, but sounds East Indian influenced. What a fucking trip.
"Wake Me Up When September Ends" is another relatively sweet ballad, much like "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)" from the album "Nimrod," released in 1997.
I was always so jealous that Elizabeth got that song as her Grad song, and I got stuck with the gawdawful Celine Dion -- "My Heart Will Go On" shite.
Out of a Glamazon shoe rating of 5, "Green Day -- American Idiot" gets 5/5 Shoes.
Let's just say that these guys made one friggin' AMAZING album. I highly recommend it.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
*Hmmpphh*
To borrow a peice of terminology from Cryptic, I've got a wee bit of a Rogg that's going to commence... Now.
I have a beef with people that decide to post nasty, personal attacks in comments on people's blogs.
What the fuck is your problem?
Do you think that posting insults like a chickenshit on someone's blog, (usually anonymously) is clever?
Does it get your point across? Perhaps. Does it make you look like the klingons circling my arsehole? Definitely.
In my opinion, that's the equivalent of breaking up with someone over the phone. It's just plain cowardice.
Grow the fuck up. Or, strap on some balls and say it to their face. It doesn't matter HOW they treated you, or what went down, if you're a disturbed ex-girlfriend/boyfriend, post-employee of theirs, or whatever. Say it directly to them, and stop washing the walls with your personal shite. By carrying on like a whiny little toddler, you're only making an ass out of yourself.
Learn how to take a fall with grace, instead of falling flat on your face. When all is said and done, what you're going to remember the most, is not what happened previously, but how you behaved because of it.
Remember, that "Karma," even though you're espousing it like some pathetic dogma, will bite you in the ass. Negative begets negative. You're missing the entire concept about Karma, from the content of your comments themselves, you colossal idiot.
When your spending the last hours of your life alone, and wondering why, There's your fucking answer. You deserved it.
This isn't even regarding me, this is regarding someone I care about, who has been having an exceedingly rough time lately.
When people are deliberately malicious, when they decide to exploit someones weaknesses or ailments/illnesses, (whatever the case may be.) Whenever they ponder taking something like that, and emphasizing the negative, I get absolutely outraged. It seriously offends my sense of values and ethics. It doesn't matter WHO is being attacked. That's just plain low. You don't kick someone when they're down.
Perhaps it's just me, but I'm wholeheartedly considering emailing the individual that was so malicious to my friend, and telling them to go fuck themselves. I probably will refrain and just write this entry in here, because I know that people like that thrive off of conflict. Wherever they can get it.
I'm sure they could find better things to do in their spare time, well, when they aren't torturing squirrels or somesuch.
What a wanker.
I have a beef with people that decide to post nasty, personal attacks in comments on people's blogs.
What the fuck is your problem?
Do you think that posting insults like a chickenshit on someone's blog, (usually anonymously) is clever?
Does it get your point across? Perhaps. Does it make you look like the klingons circling my arsehole? Definitely.
In my opinion, that's the equivalent of breaking up with someone over the phone. It's just plain cowardice.
Grow the fuck up. Or, strap on some balls and say it to their face. It doesn't matter HOW they treated you, or what went down, if you're a disturbed ex-girlfriend/boyfriend, post-employee of theirs, or whatever. Say it directly to them, and stop washing the walls with your personal shite. By carrying on like a whiny little toddler, you're only making an ass out of yourself.
Learn how to take a fall with grace, instead of falling flat on your face. When all is said and done, what you're going to remember the most, is not what happened previously, but how you behaved because of it.
Remember, that "Karma," even though you're espousing it like some pathetic dogma, will bite you in the ass. Negative begets negative. You're missing the entire concept about Karma, from the content of your comments themselves, you colossal idiot.
When your spending the last hours of your life alone, and wondering why, There's your fucking answer. You deserved it.
This isn't even regarding me, this is regarding someone I care about, who has been having an exceedingly rough time lately.
When people are deliberately malicious, when they decide to exploit someones weaknesses or ailments/illnesses, (whatever the case may be.) Whenever they ponder taking something like that, and emphasizing the negative, I get absolutely outraged. It seriously offends my sense of values and ethics. It doesn't matter WHO is being attacked. That's just plain low. You don't kick someone when they're down.
Perhaps it's just me, but I'm wholeheartedly considering emailing the individual that was so malicious to my friend, and telling them to go fuck themselves. I probably will refrain and just write this entry in here, because I know that people like that thrive off of conflict. Wherever they can get it.
I'm sure they could find better things to do in their spare time, well, when they aren't torturing squirrels or somesuch.
What a wanker.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Aaahhhhhh...
Song of the Moment: "Never Is A Promise"
Artist:Fiona Apple
Album: Tidal
Today, was a remarkably good day. Even going off of five hours sleep.
I spent the majority of my day in almost utter silence, (an amazing feat, let me assure you) seeing as almost the entire class I had this morning was working on a project in Illustrator.
As far as the ear could hear, the only sounds made were mild, muttered cursing, the anonymous drone of headphones, and the clicks from a myriad of USB mouse's. (Mices? Meese? Whatever.)
I booked a photoshoot for my business partner, we scheduled appointments to see a few apartments around downtown, and all of the sudden, where I felt I was slogging through molasses regarding all this, it's going so fast it's freaky-deaky. All in one day.
I spent the afternoon finishing up a few assignments for classes, and decided to reward myself by picking up a novel, and having a T-shirt made for myself at Bang On Tees in Metrotown.
I finally broke down and bought my "Jem and the Holograms" 3/4 length sleeve, pink and white baseball T. I've been debating this purchase for almost six months now.
Apparently, I'm not unique in my choice of decals, being that most of the people that buy that particular one, tend to be women born between 1978 and 1983. I feel like such a sellout, for hearkening back to my youth in such a commercial manner.
But I REALLY wanted it. I've got matching earrings.
I wanted a green and white one with "The Misfits" on it too. (Anyone that is concerned, please DO note that fact. I'd be tickled pink... Or green. Whichever.) Matching Neon-green Lightening symbol earrings would be a nice accompanying present. *smiles pretty-like*
*sighs*
The kid at the counter, thought I was thirty.
Thirty?
Jesus. I'm only turning 25 this year.
I guess those late night homework sessions HAVE taken a toll on me. I know the matching Louis Vuitton handbags under my eyes aren't impressive, but I'm working my ass off and I guess that's the result of it.
I also picked up a novel I should have gotten a LONG time ago, but I guess, because of my age, I never really got the gist of it when I watched the flick. (the same could be said for the Rocky Horror Picture Show, that I first saw when I was about eleven, and made absolutely no sense to me. I own it now.) I picked up the recently deceased Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas."
What a brilliant escape into someone's psyche. I should have read this YEARS ago.
I had read "Hells Angels" about three years ago, and found it pretty thought provoking. However, it never crossed my mind that Thompson had also written 'Fear and Loathing...'
I blitzed through half of it, while soaking up to the gills in the tub for an hour or so. I'm not even finished it and I'm going to recommend it to anyone who hasn't read it yet.
And if you live in the Lower Mainland, and plan on picking up your own copy, don't go to the Metrotown Chapters.
I bought the last copy.
Artist:Fiona Apple
Album: Tidal
Today, was a remarkably good day. Even going off of five hours sleep.
I spent the majority of my day in almost utter silence, (an amazing feat, let me assure you) seeing as almost the entire class I had this morning was working on a project in Illustrator.
As far as the ear could hear, the only sounds made were mild, muttered cursing, the anonymous drone of headphones, and the clicks from a myriad of USB mouse's. (Mices? Meese? Whatever.)
I booked a photoshoot for my business partner, we scheduled appointments to see a few apartments around downtown, and all of the sudden, where I felt I was slogging through molasses regarding all this, it's going so fast it's freaky-deaky. All in one day.
I spent the afternoon finishing up a few assignments for classes, and decided to reward myself by picking up a novel, and having a T-shirt made for myself at Bang On Tees in Metrotown.
I finally broke down and bought my "Jem and the Holograms" 3/4 length sleeve, pink and white baseball T. I've been debating this purchase for almost six months now.
Apparently, I'm not unique in my choice of decals, being that most of the people that buy that particular one, tend to be women born between 1978 and 1983. I feel like such a sellout, for hearkening back to my youth in such a commercial manner.
But I REALLY wanted it. I've got matching earrings.
I wanted a green and white one with "The Misfits" on it too. (Anyone that is concerned, please DO note that fact. I'd be tickled pink... Or green. Whichever.) Matching Neon-green Lightening symbol earrings would be a nice accompanying present. *smiles pretty-like*
*sighs*
The kid at the counter, thought I was thirty.
Thirty?
Jesus. I'm only turning 25 this year.
I guess those late night homework sessions HAVE taken a toll on me. I know the matching Louis Vuitton handbags under my eyes aren't impressive, but I'm working my ass off and I guess that's the result of it.
I also picked up a novel I should have gotten a LONG time ago, but I guess, because of my age, I never really got the gist of it when I watched the flick. (the same could be said for the Rocky Horror Picture Show, that I first saw when I was about eleven, and made absolutely no sense to me. I own it now.) I picked up the recently deceased Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas."
What a brilliant escape into someone's psyche. I should have read this YEARS ago.
I had read "Hells Angels" about three years ago, and found it pretty thought provoking. However, it never crossed my mind that Thompson had also written 'Fear and Loathing...'
I blitzed through half of it, while soaking up to the gills in the tub for an hour or so. I'm not even finished it and I'm going to recommend it to anyone who hasn't read it yet.
And if you live in the Lower Mainland, and plan on picking up your own copy, don't go to the Metrotown Chapters.
I bought the last copy.
Fuzzy Peach Candies, and Billie Holiday...
While browsing for some information regarding an assignment I'm doing in my Illustrator course, I found this link.
Very cute. I knew writing was genetic. I particularily enjoy the line about all the HTML programmers lying about from the decline of the Dotcom era.
Pay attention to the date it was written on.
I could eat these stupid candies all morning.
Very cute. I knew writing was genetic. I particularily enjoy the line about all the HTML programmers lying about from the decline of the Dotcom era.
Pay attention to the date it was written on.
I could eat these stupid candies all morning.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Downtrodden Song...
Music of the Moment: Ray Charles -- "Hard Times"
Seems to me, that even though I'm almost religious about putting entries in here, it's not nearly as sastisfying is it was previously.
True enough, people told me they missed my writing when I was M.I.A. a few months ago, but honestly, what the fuck am I writing that's relevant to anyone else? I should just stop entirely for a while.
Who am I kidding. I'm addicted. If I don't get it out this way, I get it out in more self-destructive methods, it's just the way I am.
I'm feeling absolutely haggard.
I've been discussing work with my business partner for the last four days, trying to redesign this website, (which is having issues due to the fact that she's got issues with her laptop, that I am unfortunately unable to fix.) and it's whole corporate identity in general. We're arranging to have professional photographs taken, organize how we are getting fetish gear, and the other myriad assortment of bits and bobs associated with it, including registering it as a legal business partnership with the B.C. Small Business Association, and trying to find a 2 bedroom apartment in a nicer area of Vancouver to set up as a working space. We're also contemplating changing our domain name, and running it through a different server. This whole series of events, is damned expensive, so we're trying to do this at minimum cost with minimum sacrifice of quality product.
It's an arduous process, and because of both of our schedules, it's starting to feel like slogging knee-deep through molasses.
We just spent over three hours in a meeting, and quite frankly my eyes were starting to glaze over by the end of it. I'm interested, but I'm not fanatical.
Not yet, anyways.
I know that running a business isn't easy. I never went into the situation expecting it to BE easy. However, it's even more difficult when it's two students behind the whole thing, with limited schedules.
I'm angry again. It's a mixture of my inability to do things RIGHT NOW, that need to be done, regarding this, and a big dollop of sexual frustration and loneliness to top it all off.
I finally saw my old assistant and good friend Mark, this Sunday. For the first time in almost a month. It was great to hang out with him, flirt somewhat like the tramp I was at one point in my life, and hear how horrifying a Safeway Bakery Management position can truly be.
I'm VERY glad I got out of there when I did. However I'm still exceedingly proud of him for making it to that level. I hated the position I had, and I was never suited as an actual full-on manager. I could easily pull off assistant manager though, and was told so on a regular basis.
He's exceedingly well suited for it, and I always knew that. I've been telling him that from the get go.
That's right. I'm a regular fucking cheerleader. Go team.
Congratulations, "Legs." Hang in there. It's only rough for the first while. (But we all know you like it that way. :P)
I miss hanging out with my friends an enormous amount. I'm sorry guys. You still rock my socks though!
Seems to me, that even though I'm almost religious about putting entries in here, it's not nearly as sastisfying is it was previously.
True enough, people told me they missed my writing when I was M.I.A. a few months ago, but honestly, what the fuck am I writing that's relevant to anyone else? I should just stop entirely for a while.
Who am I kidding. I'm addicted. If I don't get it out this way, I get it out in more self-destructive methods, it's just the way I am.
I'm feeling absolutely haggard.
I've been discussing work with my business partner for the last four days, trying to redesign this website, (which is having issues due to the fact that she's got issues with her laptop, that I am unfortunately unable to fix.) and it's whole corporate identity in general. We're arranging to have professional photographs taken, organize how we are getting fetish gear, and the other myriad assortment of bits and bobs associated with it, including registering it as a legal business partnership with the B.C. Small Business Association, and trying to find a 2 bedroom apartment in a nicer area of Vancouver to set up as a working space. We're also contemplating changing our domain name, and running it through a different server. This whole series of events, is damned expensive, so we're trying to do this at minimum cost with minimum sacrifice of quality product.
It's an arduous process, and because of both of our schedules, it's starting to feel like slogging knee-deep through molasses.
We just spent over three hours in a meeting, and quite frankly my eyes were starting to glaze over by the end of it. I'm interested, but I'm not fanatical.
Not yet, anyways.
I know that running a business isn't easy. I never went into the situation expecting it to BE easy. However, it's even more difficult when it's two students behind the whole thing, with limited schedules.
I'm angry again. It's a mixture of my inability to do things RIGHT NOW, that need to be done, regarding this, and a big dollop of sexual frustration and loneliness to top it all off.
I finally saw my old assistant and good friend Mark, this Sunday. For the first time in almost a month. It was great to hang out with him, flirt somewhat like the tramp I was at one point in my life, and hear how horrifying a Safeway Bakery Management position can truly be.
I'm VERY glad I got out of there when I did. However I'm still exceedingly proud of him for making it to that level. I hated the position I had, and I was never suited as an actual full-on manager. I could easily pull off assistant manager though, and was told so on a regular basis.
He's exceedingly well suited for it, and I always knew that. I've been telling him that from the get go.
That's right. I'm a regular fucking cheerleader. Go team.
Congratulations, "Legs." Hang in there. It's only rough for the first while. (But we all know you like it that way. :P)
I miss hanging out with my friends an enormous amount. I'm sorry guys. You still rock my socks though!
Sunday, February 20, 2005
How do I think?
Linds, you are Right-brained.
Most right-brained people like you are flexible in many realms of their lives. Whether picking up on the nuances of musical concerto, appreciating the subtle details in a work of art, or seeing the world from a different perspective, right-brained people are creative, imaginative, and attuned to their surroundings.
People probably see your thinking process as boundless, and that might translate to your physical surroundings as well. Some people think of you as messier than others. It's not that you're disorganized, it's just that you might use different systems to organize (by theme, by subject, by color). Straight alphabetization and rigidly ordered folders are not typical of right-brained behavior.
You are also more intuitive than many. When it comes to reading literature, you probably prefer creative writing or fiction over nonfiction. And when it comes to doing math, you might find you enjoy geometry more than other forms like algebra.
You know, if you did the punctuation different, it would say I was "right, brained." Heh. Stupid humour, I know, but that's pretty funny to me.
Music is my Heroin...Tunes to Groove by Version 0.3
Elvis Presley, "Boy from Tupelo"
Artist: Elvis Presley
Album: Boy From Tupelo
Genre: "Rock"
There's a little known fact about me, other than by the friends I hang out with on a regular basis, that I LOVE the compilation discs sold at Starbucks. It started with my initial purchase of "Mambo Mio" and has snowballed from there.
Well, I love almost all of them. I avoid the "Love music" compilations, because, quite frankly, If I hear "Unchained Melody" one more time, I'll gag. I hate Aaron Neville.
I digress.
I picked up this CD last week, and have listened to it about seven times since then. This is not the receding hairline, fat, in a gaudy jumpsuit on the stages of Vegas, Elvis shit.
This is the 18 year-old, gorgeous, swaggering, impulsive, sweet-demeanored, wondering what he would sound like on a record, Elvis shit.
Heavily blues influenced, with a lovely vocal drawl, and mostly acoustic guitar in the background and blues guitar sassing the front end, you can tell this album is based in the early 50's.
The whole album is great, but my particular favourites are "One Sided Love Affair" with his classic "Uhuh huh..." Style of vocals, the mournful and romantic "Blue Moon" which is one of my favourite songs to sing. The ballsy "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" where he's lamenting his gorgeous female and her "wanderings" in their relationship, and how she's treating him wrong. The sassy "Money, Honey." about the complications of romance and how another man took his place because she wanted the "Money, Honey" and the heartbreak in "I'm Left, You're Right, She's Gone" about how his woman has left him.
Ahh, the sorrows of youth and romance.
The rocking classic "Blue Suede Shoes" I think my dad wore blue suede shoes to his wedding. I know he wore a blue tux. It's closed off with "Hound Dog" One of my particular favourites that I've slaughtered quite nicely at Karaoke.
I NEVER pictured myself owning an Elvis CD of any sort, but I guess I'm getting older.
Out of a Rating of FIVE Glamazon shoes, Elvis Presley "Boy from Tupelo" gets 4.5/5 shoes.
Gad, Elvis was hot.
100 More Things...
I know that Travis told me it might be overkill, but I'm doing another set.
1.) I love technology, but at the same time I hate it, because it's so fickle, and so am I.
2.) I own enough makeup to make Tammy Faye Baker, envious.
3.) And I've used it all at one point or another, but not all at the same time.
4.) I don't like hockey, and have been told that I'm a piss-poor Canadian because of it.
5.) I do, however, enjoy watching soccer.
6.) I'm really good at sticking my foot in my mouth.
7.) I find that when people older than I am, and usually from the east coast of Canada, use the word "The" in front of nouns, IE.) "sending THE email..." "smoking THE pot..." Hysterically funny.
8.) Chocolate makes a GREAT breakfast.
9.) I love to sneeze. LOVE it.
10.) Maggie Simpson is my Favourite Simpson.
11.) Marge is hot when her hair is down. Homer is one lucky motherfucker.
12.) If "The Tick" was human, I would SO stalk him.
13.) When I was a kid, I loved Freddie Mercury so much, I told my dad I wanted to marry him.
14.) My favourite treat late at night, is white sesame toast, with butter and strawberry jam.
15.) I hate the edges of pie crust. I don't eat them.
16.) I've lost over 120 pounds in three years.
17.) I miss my first guy best-friend, Aiden Varga.
18.) I haven't talked to him in over eight years, when he moved up to the interior of British Columbia.
19.) When I was 12, My dad tried to stop me from having sleepover's at his house because he was worried that something sexual would happen between us.
20.) Nothing ever did. I never even kissed him.
21.) Although, I was madly in love with him.
22.) I LOVE buying presents for people that are totally personalized.
23.) I've only had two birthday parties in my life.
24.) <--- How old I turned when I had my second party. I don't remember that much of it, that must mean it was good.
25.) <---How old I'm going to be this year.
26.) I'm determined to make 25, the best year yet.
27.) I really hope so anyways.
28.) I worked in a bakery for almost 5 years.
29.) I know how to make any baked good imaginable. However, I NEVER bake at home
30.) It was a game for my co-workers to make me blush as many times in a day as possible. I have NO idea how high the record was when I quit. It was probably around the 50 mark.
31.) I refuse to eat doughnuts that are deep fried in oil, after making them for so many years.
32.) I refuse to eat pork from the Lower Mainland.
33.) That, is so fucking gross it makes me nauseous.
34.) And yet, it totally reminds me of a scene from the movie, "Fried Green Tomatoes." So I'm laughing my ass off.
35.) I haven't completely woken up yet.
36.) I think Astrology and Numerology are fascinating, but probably a bunch of bollocks when you get down to the important stuff.
37.) Yet I still read my horoscope, every damned day. From three different websites.
38.) When I'm really nervous, I'm very quiet.
39.) Most of the time, I don't shut up.
40.) I have wonderful classmates, because they tolerate that fact.
41.) I wish I was in Dallas, right now.
42.) I almost fell asleep sitting outside in the sunshine this morning.
43.) I don't drink coffee in the morning to wake up.
44.) However, I'll drink it in the evening, and then wonder why I can't fall asleep.
45.) I get five to six hours of sleep a night.
46.) I love the album "Up" by "Great Big Sea."
47.) It reminds me of my Grandfather, who in his youth was a charismatic, ravishing, debonnaire rake from Nova Scotia.
48.) No wonder my Grandma fell for him.
49.) No wonder my Grandfather fell for her.
50.) I love old school Rap, Hip-Hop and R&B.
51.) I was awful in Mathematics in Elementary school and Highschool.
52.) I slept through my senior year in English class and got a B plus.
53.) I was wearing headphones the whole time, so I didn't even learn subliminally.
54.) I really regret not taking English honours classes instead of regular English classes.
55.) I didn't have a date for my grad.
56.) I wasn't even going to go to my grad dinner/dance, but my friends made me.
57.) I'm glad they did.
59.) I have a terrible addiction to Dorito's, Double stuffed Oreo's and Dark chocolate.
60.) None of these were served at my grad dinner/dance. Damn.
61.) I get embarassed easily when my friends implicate me in explicit sexual situations. Even if I haven't done it.
62.) I was very shy, and quiet in Highschool.
63.) No one believes me when I say that.
64.) I never kissed anyone until after I graduated Highschool.
65.) If I could change the first person I kissed, I sure as hell would.
66.) I used to drink Pepsi when I was a kid, and when I moved out I switched to Coca Cola.
67.) Now, I usually only drink water.
68.) Steamrollers Burrito's are amazing. I love the deluxe beef burrito.
69.) I have an addiction to Spanish Rice.
70.) No, that's not a name of a bad Spanish/Asian porno. It's a rice side dish. Perverts.
71.) I think little kids are adorable. I always want to cuddle them.
72.) However, I talk to them like they are adults, and I'm always genuinely interested in what they have to say. If I can understand them.
73.) I think people that put clothing on their dogs are idiots.
74.) I bite my nails.
75.) I love Jazz.
76.) I've never used a Bidet.
77.) I've always wanted to try, but think it's unsanitary.
78.) That was probably WAY too much information.
79.) Oh well.
80.) Out of the five REAL (over a month and a half in duration) boyfriends I've had, four of them were originally from Ontario.
81.) I have NO idea why I keep on attracting guys from Ontario.
82.) I will never date another man named Peter again.
83.) Or Gerald.
84.) When I was 13, I was molested by my aunt's husband in my sleep, with his two children asleep in the same room.
85.) I took the asshole to court, and sued him for all he was worth.
86.) Unfortunately, that wasn't very much money. However, he also got slammed with a restraining order and wasn't allowed to be alone with his children until they were over the age of 18. He should have been sent away to rot in jail.
87.) Apparently, his health is terrible now, and he lives with his horrible, controlling mother. It's karma, baby.
88.) I went to counselling for two years afterwards, until I got tired of saying the same shit over and over again to the counsellor. I get it already.
89.) I think I repressed stuff he did to me before that major incident, and occasionally I remember it. I have nightmares about it sometimes.
90.) I don't regret being open about it. People shouldn't be ashamed of the things they can't control, and that was never caused by them.
91.) My old roommate Elizabeth gave me a native indian name. It's "Curses Freely." How apt.
92.) I gave her one. She's "Walks Into Walls." That's also very apt. She has so many damned bruises on her legs from whacking into assorted furniture, and misjudging the length of the hallway. Poor Lizzie.
93.) I am (apparently) 1/8th Miqmaq Indian.
94.) However, my Grandfather could have been pulling my leg.
95.) My only surviving Grandpa is dying from bladder cancer.
96.) He had Chemotherapy on Christmas Eve, and was still cheerful on Christmas Day.
97.) I am blown away by his strength of character.
98.) I wish I could be that strong.
99.) I donate over 500 dollars a year to research the cure for cancer, because it runs in my family.
100.) C'est Fin. Sorry if it was overkill Trav, hun.
1.) I love technology, but at the same time I hate it, because it's so fickle, and so am I.
2.) I own enough makeup to make Tammy Faye Baker, envious.
3.) And I've used it all at one point or another, but not all at the same time.
4.) I don't like hockey, and have been told that I'm a piss-poor Canadian because of it.
5.) I do, however, enjoy watching soccer.
6.) I'm really good at sticking my foot in my mouth.
7.) I find that when people older than I am, and usually from the east coast of Canada, use the word "The" in front of nouns, IE.) "sending THE email..." "smoking THE pot..." Hysterically funny.
8.) Chocolate makes a GREAT breakfast.
9.) I love to sneeze. LOVE it.
10.) Maggie Simpson is my Favourite Simpson.
11.) Marge is hot when her hair is down. Homer is one lucky motherfucker.
12.) If "The Tick" was human, I would SO stalk him.
13.) When I was a kid, I loved Freddie Mercury so much, I told my dad I wanted to marry him.
14.) My favourite treat late at night, is white sesame toast, with butter and strawberry jam.
15.) I hate the edges of pie crust. I don't eat them.
16.) I've lost over 120 pounds in three years.
17.) I miss my first guy best-friend, Aiden Varga.
18.) I haven't talked to him in over eight years, when he moved up to the interior of British Columbia.
19.) When I was 12, My dad tried to stop me from having sleepover's at his house because he was worried that something sexual would happen between us.
20.) Nothing ever did. I never even kissed him.
21.) Although, I was madly in love with him.
22.) I LOVE buying presents for people that are totally personalized.
23.) I've only had two birthday parties in my life.
24.) <--- How old I turned when I had my second party. I don't remember that much of it, that must mean it was good.
25.) <---How old I'm going to be this year.
26.) I'm determined to make 25, the best year yet.
27.) I really hope so anyways.
28.) I worked in a bakery for almost 5 years.
29.) I know how to make any baked good imaginable. However, I NEVER bake at home
30.) It was a game for my co-workers to make me blush as many times in a day as possible. I have NO idea how high the record was when I quit. It was probably around the 50 mark.
31.) I refuse to eat doughnuts that are deep fried in oil, after making them for so many years.
32.) I refuse to eat pork from the Lower Mainland.
33.) That, is so fucking gross it makes me nauseous.
34.) And yet, it totally reminds me of a scene from the movie, "Fried Green Tomatoes." So I'm laughing my ass off.
35.) I haven't completely woken up yet.
36.) I think Astrology and Numerology are fascinating, but probably a bunch of bollocks when you get down to the important stuff.
37.) Yet I still read my horoscope, every damned day. From three different websites.
38.) When I'm really nervous, I'm very quiet.
39.) Most of the time, I don't shut up.
40.) I have wonderful classmates, because they tolerate that fact.
41.) I wish I was in Dallas, right now.
42.) I almost fell asleep sitting outside in the sunshine this morning.
43.) I don't drink coffee in the morning to wake up.
44.) However, I'll drink it in the evening, and then wonder why I can't fall asleep.
45.) I get five to six hours of sleep a night.
46.) I love the album "Up" by "Great Big Sea."
47.) It reminds me of my Grandfather, who in his youth was a charismatic, ravishing, debonnaire rake from Nova Scotia.
48.) No wonder my Grandma fell for him.
49.) No wonder my Grandfather fell for her.
50.) I love old school Rap, Hip-Hop and R&B.
51.) I was awful in Mathematics in Elementary school and Highschool.
52.) I slept through my senior year in English class and got a B plus.
53.) I was wearing headphones the whole time, so I didn't even learn subliminally.
54.) I really regret not taking English honours classes instead of regular English classes.
55.) I didn't have a date for my grad.
56.) I wasn't even going to go to my grad dinner/dance, but my friends made me.
57.) I'm glad they did.
59.) I have a terrible addiction to Dorito's, Double stuffed Oreo's and Dark chocolate.
60.) None of these were served at my grad dinner/dance. Damn.
61.) I get embarassed easily when my friends implicate me in explicit sexual situations. Even if I haven't done it.
62.) I was very shy, and quiet in Highschool.
63.) No one believes me when I say that.
64.) I never kissed anyone until after I graduated Highschool.
65.) If I could change the first person I kissed, I sure as hell would.
66.) I used to drink Pepsi when I was a kid, and when I moved out I switched to Coca Cola.
67.) Now, I usually only drink water.
68.) Steamrollers Burrito's are amazing. I love the deluxe beef burrito.
69.) I have an addiction to Spanish Rice.
70.) No, that's not a name of a bad Spanish/Asian porno. It's a rice side dish. Perverts.
71.) I think little kids are adorable. I always want to cuddle them.
72.) However, I talk to them like they are adults, and I'm always genuinely interested in what they have to say. If I can understand them.
73.) I think people that put clothing on their dogs are idiots.
74.) I bite my nails.
75.) I love Jazz.
76.) I've never used a Bidet.
77.) I've always wanted to try, but think it's unsanitary.
78.) That was probably WAY too much information.
79.) Oh well.
80.) Out of the five REAL (over a month and a half in duration) boyfriends I've had, four of them were originally from Ontario.
81.) I have NO idea why I keep on attracting guys from Ontario.
82.) I will never date another man named Peter again.
83.) Or Gerald.
84.) When I was 13, I was molested by my aunt's husband in my sleep, with his two children asleep in the same room.
85.) I took the asshole to court, and sued him for all he was worth.
86.) Unfortunately, that wasn't very much money. However, he also got slammed with a restraining order and wasn't allowed to be alone with his children until they were over the age of 18. He should have been sent away to rot in jail.
87.) Apparently, his health is terrible now, and he lives with his horrible, controlling mother. It's karma, baby.
88.) I went to counselling for two years afterwards, until I got tired of saying the same shit over and over again to the counsellor. I get it already.
89.) I think I repressed stuff he did to me before that major incident, and occasionally I remember it. I have nightmares about it sometimes.
90.) I don't regret being open about it. People shouldn't be ashamed of the things they can't control, and that was never caused by them.
91.) My old roommate Elizabeth gave me a native indian name. It's "Curses Freely." How apt.
92.) I gave her one. She's "Walks Into Walls." That's also very apt. She has so many damned bruises on her legs from whacking into assorted furniture, and misjudging the length of the hallway. Poor Lizzie.
93.) I am (apparently) 1/8th Miqmaq Indian.
94.) However, my Grandfather could have been pulling my leg.
95.) My only surviving Grandpa is dying from bladder cancer.
96.) He had Chemotherapy on Christmas Eve, and was still cheerful on Christmas Day.
97.) I am blown away by his strength of character.
98.) I wish I could be that strong.
99.) I donate over 500 dollars a year to research the cure for cancer, because it runs in my family.
100.) C'est Fin. Sorry if it was overkill Trav, hun.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Soooo, What's yours?
I was discussing with a good friend of mine today, what we would have as a catch phrase as a Simpsons character...
It's come to the conclusion, that my catch phrase, inevitably, is "Dude." either used as an exclamation of disbelief, ie) "Dude!" or simply part of a sentence used to address someone. "Hey, dude, blah blah blah...."
For someone like myself that enjoys being verbose,(but never to the point of condescension) I find that particularly amusing.
Is it perhaps, a result of watching "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" several thousand times when I was a kid? (My favourite line is when Ted is in Hell, and he's talking to the drill sergeant "Yes dude, dude SIR!" or something of similar ilk.)
Is it passe to use the term "Dude" after a certain age? Or does it depend on the personality that uses it?
Do I honestly care if it is passe, or that I could possibly be too old to say it?
Naaaaah.
SO, then, darling readers, if you were a Simpsons character, what would YOUR catch phrase be? What line do you find yourself saying on a fairly frequent basis?
Enlighten moi, I'm interminably curious, since Y'all have been quiet this past week regarding posting comments.
It's come to the conclusion, that my catch phrase, inevitably, is "Dude." either used as an exclamation of disbelief, ie) "Dude!" or simply part of a sentence used to address someone. "Hey, dude, blah blah blah...."
For someone like myself that enjoys being verbose,(but never to the point of condescension) I find that particularly amusing.
Is it perhaps, a result of watching "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" several thousand times when I was a kid? (My favourite line is when Ted is in Hell, and he's talking to the drill sergeant "Yes dude, dude SIR!" or something of similar ilk.)
Is it passe to use the term "Dude" after a certain age? Or does it depend on the personality that uses it?
Do I honestly care if it is passe, or that I could possibly be too old to say it?
Naaaaah.
SO, then, darling readers, if you were a Simpsons character, what would YOUR catch phrase be? What line do you find yourself saying on a fairly frequent basis?
Enlighten moi, I'm interminably curious, since Y'all have been quiet this past week regarding posting comments.
Well, Fuck...
Today, being the incredibly intelligent,*rolls her eyes* but incredibly clumsy individual that I am, I decided, however inadvertently, to slam my cell phone, which was in my sweater tied around my waist in between the body and door of my galpals car.
Amidst muttered curses, I came to the conclusion that it was in need of replacement, since it's a few years old, and has shitty reception capabilities. That, and also the fact that I had to sign up for a new contract anyways.
So it was off to the Celly store, to ogle new technology.
I found a decent bluetooth intergrated, Digicam cell that wasn't rediculously overpriced.
Compared to my previous quite dainty, feminine, very futuristic looking cell phone (it's been compared to a ladies electric Razor by a few Karaoke friends of mine, and a telecommunicator from the old star trek series, by a few others, who proceeded to demonstrate by flipping it open while making the telecommunicator noise, ala Ace Ventura.) the fact is, that the new one looks as if you could shoot uzi bullets out of it. This one better last the long haul.
I would prefer to switch phone companies, but I'll be damned if I'll switch to a new phone number when I've had this one for almost seven years. That would be a lot of emailing and phoning about to tell people the new number, and to be quite frank, I'm too lazy and don't feel like doing that. Not to mention that everyone I have business associations with has this number.
That and I absolutely refuse to have a new number with the new (788) area code. That's just lame. Don't ask me why, because I couldn't tell you.
_______________________________________________________
Observation of the day: A good orgasm fixes any cranky mood.
Song of the moment: "Too Bad About Your Girl" -- The Donnas.
Comments -- Great, sexually laden, girls-only punk. Tight rhythm, guitar and vocals. A great song about the lure of the unattainable.
Amidst muttered curses, I came to the conclusion that it was in need of replacement, since it's a few years old, and has shitty reception capabilities. That, and also the fact that I had to sign up for a new contract anyways.
So it was off to the Celly store, to ogle new technology.
I found a decent bluetooth intergrated, Digicam cell that wasn't rediculously overpriced.
Compared to my previous quite dainty, feminine, very futuristic looking cell phone (it's been compared to a ladies electric Razor by a few Karaoke friends of mine, and a telecommunicator from the old star trek series, by a few others, who proceeded to demonstrate by flipping it open while making the telecommunicator noise, ala Ace Ventura.) the fact is, that the new one looks as if you could shoot uzi bullets out of it. This one better last the long haul.
I would prefer to switch phone companies, but I'll be damned if I'll switch to a new phone number when I've had this one for almost seven years. That would be a lot of emailing and phoning about to tell people the new number, and to be quite frank, I'm too lazy and don't feel like doing that. Not to mention that everyone I have business associations with has this number.
That and I absolutely refuse to have a new number with the new (788) area code. That's just lame. Don't ask me why, because I couldn't tell you.
_______________________________________________________
Observation of the day: A good orgasm fixes any cranky mood.
Song of the moment: "Too Bad About Your Girl" -- The Donnas.
Comments -- Great, sexually laden, girls-only punk. Tight rhythm, guitar and vocals. A great song about the lure of the unattainable.
The Fugative... (A brief)
While watching The Fugative with a galpal of mine, there was a scene where Harrison Ford was searching for Evidence in the "killers" house.
This line, Pure brilliance if I may say so, emerged from her lips. It's probably been said a million times, but I burst out laughing.
Priceless. That chick cracks me the fuck up.
This line, Pure brilliance if I may say so, emerged from her lips. It's probably been said a million times, but I burst out laughing.
"It wasn't me! It was the one-armed man!"
Priceless. That chick cracks me the fuck up.
Size DOESN'T Matter?
Firefox has a lovely little bunch of additions available for it's web browsing capabilities.
While I'm more interested in the Webdesign function of these add-on's, I also tend to view the latest headlines. This one in particular caught my interest.
So size doesn't matter? Maybe it's just what those scientists want us to believe.
I like a man with big lobes. :P
Cheers.
Linds.
While I'm more interested in the Webdesign function of these add-on's, I also tend to view the latest headlines. This one in particular caught my interest.
So size doesn't matter? Maybe it's just what those scientists want us to believe.
I like a man with big lobes. :P
Cheers.
Linds.
Friday, February 18, 2005
What The Hell? (A Brief.)
I had to post this, being that I just looked at it, and shook my head.
Some Vet's have WAY too much time on their hands.
Is that the direction that Aesthetics is going? Good lord.
Some Vet's have WAY too much time on their hands.
Is that the direction that Aesthetics is going? Good lord.
Bad Vibes...
Have a bad feeling today, it started at about 8 am my time, and usually when I have those, they're bang on.
I hate that shit.
I don't think it's regarding me, and I've been wondering if it's about Devin. I'm waiting on a reply, and starting to worry a bit.
I'm sure it's just sleep deprivation getting the better of me.
Today, at the end of class, I started having issues again with my comp. Just minor ones, and I was told explicitly how to fix them, it's not a big deal. And I always like being talked to explicitly.
However, after all the shit I've gone through regarding this slab of electronics, needless to say it's getting tres frustrating. I actually started to cry.
I hate crying in front of people, I don't do it very often, being that my face gets red, and I have to blow my nose. It makes me feel like such a GIRL. (All in all, not a bad thing, but still, the overall sensation is something I would prefer to avoid.)
Anyhoo, my Friday night consists of me finishing this entry, and crawling under my duvet for a while. I'm probably not going to wake up until tomorrow.
That's okay. I really need the rest. I just hope Dev phones me to let me know I was worried over nothing.
Stupid bad vibes.
I hate that shit.
I don't think it's regarding me, and I've been wondering if it's about Devin. I'm waiting on a reply, and starting to worry a bit.
I'm sure it's just sleep deprivation getting the better of me.
Today, at the end of class, I started having issues again with my comp. Just minor ones, and I was told explicitly how to fix them, it's not a big deal. And I always like being talked to explicitly.
However, after all the shit I've gone through regarding this slab of electronics, needless to say it's getting tres frustrating. I actually started to cry.
I hate crying in front of people, I don't do it very often, being that my face gets red, and I have to blow my nose. It makes me feel like such a GIRL. (All in all, not a bad thing, but still, the overall sensation is something I would prefer to avoid.)
Anyhoo, my Friday night consists of me finishing this entry, and crawling under my duvet for a while. I'm probably not going to wake up until tomorrow.
That's okay. I really need the rest. I just hope Dev phones me to let me know I was worried over nothing.
Stupid bad vibes.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Hrm...
After re-reading the last post (100 things...) I've noticed a rhythm and thought pattern that goes along with it.
If you pay attention, you can see that everything is linked to something else down the line.
And I just thought that for most of them I was writing stuff down randomly.
Interesting, how the human brain automatically associates stuff with other stuff. While some of it might seem obscure or completely unrelated to you guys, I can totally follow along with the thought process and what words I associate with other words and feelings. Kinda like those psychology word association tests, or the games I used to play in my Acting classes in highschool.
Then again, I have to live inside this crazy brain of mine every day. Be glad you don't.
I'm rambling. I'm going to bed.
G'nite.
Linds.
If you pay attention, you can see that everything is linked to something else down the line.
And I just thought that for most of them I was writing stuff down randomly.
Interesting, how the human brain automatically associates stuff with other stuff. While some of it might seem obscure or completely unrelated to you guys, I can totally follow along with the thought process and what words I associate with other words and feelings. Kinda like those psychology word association tests, or the games I used to play in my Acting classes in highschool.
Then again, I have to live inside this crazy brain of mine every day. Be glad you don't.
I'm rambling. I'm going to bed.
G'nite.
Linds.
100 Things...
1.) I'm my own worst critic.
2.) I love bright colours.
3.) I love people more than I show.
4.) I fall in love at the drop of a hat, and never really STOP loving the people I love.
5.) I take criticism poorly. Unless it's constructive criticism.
6.) I worry. Constantly. About everything.
7.) I'm stubborn.
8.) I think of myself as very annoying, but somehow, never end up changing the way I behave intentionally. It just happens.
9.) I love sunsets.
10.) My favourite season is Autumn.
11.) I'm very supportive of my friends endeavors.
12.) I never sleep the night through solid.
13.) I love to entertain people.
14.) I need music playing constantly while writing, or being creative.
15.) I totally kick ass at Tetris and Dr. Mario.
16.) I never had a Nintendo Entertainment System until I was 20. And I STILL kick ass at Tetris and Dr. Mario.
17.) I love my friends more than I love myself.
18.) I'm seriously contemplating becoming an ovo-lacto vegetarian.
19.) I still crave the pizza I had while in New York City in 1999.
20.) I've had a computer around me since I was six years old.
21.) I've been bitten by dogs seven times.
22.) I hate clowns.
23.) I love cats.
24.) I love touching skin. I'm a skin junkie.
25.) I see art in everything.
26.) Any photograph of me taken by anyone else I usually hate.
27.) I have 11 first cousins.
28.) I'm an only child.
29.) I was born a twin, but my sister died before we were born.
30.) We shared the same middle names.
31.) I used to sleepwalk when I was younger, and my mom says I was usually looking for my twin sister when she asked me in my sleep.
32.) My "nephew" Kirk, is my sunshine.
33.) So is Devin.
34.) I have 7 best friends. Including my mom.
35.) They mean more to me than life itself.
38.) I believe that Aretha Franklin has the voice of an angel, because it always makes me happy.
39.) I have a horrible addiction to shopping. It's detrimental to my bank account.
40.) I used to edit my Moms writing when I was eleven.
41.) I used to be a communist.
42.) I gave lectures on feminism and various topics on socialism in Seattle, Chicago, New York City, and San Francisco.
43.) I worked in a publishing house in Manhattan, and wrote articles for a global socialist newspaper when I was 19 years old.
44.) I devour Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels.
45.) I read my books over and over again.
46.) My television in my bedroom isn't even plugged in.
47.) I used to be a total bar star.
48.) I used to attend Karaoke 5 nights a week.
49.) I used to follow around one particular Karaoke host, because he had the best selection of music, and he flirted with me.
50.) He's seen my tits, but I never fucked him.
51.) He is my father's age.
52.) I don't care what you think about that.
53.) I have 18 years of vocal training, six of it in Jazz.
54.) I'm commonly angry at myself.
55.) I'm very good at hiding how angry I am at myself.
56.) I'm almost always lonely.
57.) People ask me for advice on a daily basis.
58.) I love to flirt.
59.) I haven't had a decent kiss in months.
60.) In 2003, I got drunk on Valentines Day, alone.
61.) I only drank half a mini-mickey of Fireball. (Cinnamon-flavoured whiskey.)
62.) When my parents came home they laughed at me.
63.) I get possessed by my writing.
64.) I'm getting a hair-cut today.
65.) I cry at commercials.
66.) I cry during comedies.
67.) I'm disgustingly romantic.
68.) I can be clingy.
69.) I REALLY try to NOT be clingy.
70.) I was a total control freak when I was in my late teens and early 20's.
71.) I don't smoke pot.
72.) My favourite colour is Blue. Usually.
73.) I dislike the colour green, by itself in art.
74.) I don't own a single item of yellow clothing.
75.) I do, however, own a yellow bracelet whose proceeds go to finding a cure for cancer.
76.) The word "Hope" holds significant meaning for me that I can't explain in words.
77.) The words on my yellow bracelet say "Have Hope."
78.) The day after I found out Devin had heart problems, my other bracelet that makes my wish come true when it falls off, (it represented hope) fell off.
79.) I really fucking hope that it works the way I was told it works. It's probably a bunch of bollocks.
80.) I hate it when people log off when they are chatting with me and don't say goodbye.
81.) It makes me feel unimportant.
82.) I have a messy room.
83.) However, I enjoy doing laundry.
84.) Socks are one of the best Christmas presents.
85.) I get upset if I don't get socks for Christmas from my parents.
86.) I love the clothing and styles of the late 30's, 40's and early 50's.
87.) I grew up watching Bugs Bunny, and Red Dwarf.
88.) I own way too many purses and shoes.
89.) I'm a clothing chameleon.
90.) I've had my hair almost every colour imaginable.
91.) I used to dye it a different colour once a month.
92.) I've had basically the same colour for almost a year and a half now.
93.) I want my hair long again but am too frustrated with it being in the middle of short and long.
94.) I have a huge fetish for lingerie.
95.) My music collection is taking over my bedroom.
96.) I love posters of 1940's and 50's pin-up girls.
97.) I love corsets.
98.) I love breathing more.
99.) I miss my old cat, Tiffany.
100.) I could have done a better job on this.
2.) I love bright colours.
3.) I love people more than I show.
4.) I fall in love at the drop of a hat, and never really STOP loving the people I love.
5.) I take criticism poorly. Unless it's constructive criticism.
6.) I worry. Constantly. About everything.
7.) I'm stubborn.
8.) I think of myself as very annoying, but somehow, never end up changing the way I behave intentionally. It just happens.
9.) I love sunsets.
10.) My favourite season is Autumn.
11.) I'm very supportive of my friends endeavors.
12.) I never sleep the night through solid.
13.) I love to entertain people.
14.) I need music playing constantly while writing, or being creative.
15.) I totally kick ass at Tetris and Dr. Mario.
16.) I never had a Nintendo Entertainment System until I was 20. And I STILL kick ass at Tetris and Dr. Mario.
17.) I love my friends more than I love myself.
18.) I'm seriously contemplating becoming an ovo-lacto vegetarian.
19.) I still crave the pizza I had while in New York City in 1999.
20.) I've had a computer around me since I was six years old.
21.) I've been bitten by dogs seven times.
22.) I hate clowns.
23.) I love cats.
24.) I love touching skin. I'm a skin junkie.
25.) I see art in everything.
26.) Any photograph of me taken by anyone else I usually hate.
27.) I have 11 first cousins.
28.) I'm an only child.
29.) I was born a twin, but my sister died before we were born.
30.) We shared the same middle names.
31.) I used to sleepwalk when I was younger, and my mom says I was usually looking for my twin sister when she asked me in my sleep.
32.) My "nephew" Kirk, is my sunshine.
33.) So is Devin.
34.) I have 7 best friends. Including my mom.
35.) They mean more to me than life itself.
38.) I believe that Aretha Franklin has the voice of an angel, because it always makes me happy.
39.) I have a horrible addiction to shopping. It's detrimental to my bank account.
40.) I used to edit my Moms writing when I was eleven.
41.) I used to be a communist.
42.) I gave lectures on feminism and various topics on socialism in Seattle, Chicago, New York City, and San Francisco.
43.) I worked in a publishing house in Manhattan, and wrote articles for a global socialist newspaper when I was 19 years old.
44.) I devour Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels.
45.) I read my books over and over again.
46.) My television in my bedroom isn't even plugged in.
47.) I used to be a total bar star.
48.) I used to attend Karaoke 5 nights a week.
49.) I used to follow around one particular Karaoke host, because he had the best selection of music, and he flirted with me.
50.) He's seen my tits, but I never fucked him.
51.) He is my father's age.
52.) I don't care what you think about that.
53.) I have 18 years of vocal training, six of it in Jazz.
54.) I'm commonly angry at myself.
55.) I'm very good at hiding how angry I am at myself.
56.) I'm almost always lonely.
57.) People ask me for advice on a daily basis.
58.) I love to flirt.
59.) I haven't had a decent kiss in months.
60.) In 2003, I got drunk on Valentines Day, alone.
61.) I only drank half a mini-mickey of Fireball. (Cinnamon-flavoured whiskey.)
62.) When my parents came home they laughed at me.
63.) I get possessed by my writing.
64.) I'm getting a hair-cut today.
65.) I cry at commercials.
66.) I cry during comedies.
67.) I'm disgustingly romantic.
68.) I can be clingy.
69.) I REALLY try to NOT be clingy.
70.) I was a total control freak when I was in my late teens and early 20's.
71.) I don't smoke pot.
72.) My favourite colour is Blue. Usually.
73.) I dislike the colour green, by itself in art.
74.) I don't own a single item of yellow clothing.
75.) I do, however, own a yellow bracelet whose proceeds go to finding a cure for cancer.
76.) The word "Hope" holds significant meaning for me that I can't explain in words.
77.) The words on my yellow bracelet say "Have Hope."
78.) The day after I found out Devin had heart problems, my other bracelet that makes my wish come true when it falls off, (it represented hope) fell off.
79.) I really fucking hope that it works the way I was told it works. It's probably a bunch of bollocks.
80.) I hate it when people log off when they are chatting with me and don't say goodbye.
81.) It makes me feel unimportant.
82.) I have a messy room.
83.) However, I enjoy doing laundry.
84.) Socks are one of the best Christmas presents.
85.) I get upset if I don't get socks for Christmas from my parents.
86.) I love the clothing and styles of the late 30's, 40's and early 50's.
87.) I grew up watching Bugs Bunny, and Red Dwarf.
88.) I own way too many purses and shoes.
89.) I'm a clothing chameleon.
90.) I've had my hair almost every colour imaginable.
91.) I used to dye it a different colour once a month.
92.) I've had basically the same colour for almost a year and a half now.
93.) I want my hair long again but am too frustrated with it being in the middle of short and long.
94.) I have a huge fetish for lingerie.
95.) My music collection is taking over my bedroom.
96.) I love posters of 1940's and 50's pin-up girls.
97.) I love corsets.
98.) I love breathing more.
99.) I miss my old cat, Tiffany.
100.) I could have done a better job on this.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
"And This One Time, At Band Camp..."
I don't wanna know WHERE this person stuck any sort of musical instrument.
And I clicked a very emphatic NO, for being interested in "meeting" him. (Him?)
That's WAY too much mullet for my tastes. (Actually, ANY mullet is too much for my tastes.)
The Christina Aguilera lyrics are a nice touch. And who doesn't love "jamdancing fur all me friends?"
My keywords:
| ||
| . i like to rock out, ask me to sing for yoo and you will be miine forevear, i'm a genie in a bottle you just have to rob me the rite way. I lov e sweets and bars and drinking at the bars and jamdancing fur all me friendS |
And I clicked a very emphatic NO, for being interested in "meeting" him. (Him?)
That's WAY too much mullet for my tastes. (Actually, ANY mullet is too much for my tastes.)
The Christina Aguilera lyrics are a nice touch. And who doesn't love "jamdancing fur all me friends?"
Christ, I'm evil sometimes.
And What It All Boils Down To...
Is that Sex, sells.
Big time.
I've been a partner in an adult-oriented website that deals with alternative sexuality for almost a year.
My partner and I, have been discussing methods of boosting sales with this website and have come to several conclusions.
First things first, it needs a total makeover. I designed it with absolutely NO previous experience, using Yahoo Sitebuilder. Needless to say, it's completely "Mickey-Moused" and slapped together.
Apparently, since it's conception in mid-April of 2004, we've had over 28,000 hits. That's fucking impressive, but revenue received from it, due to the fickle crowd browsing for that sort of thing, is NOT impressive. (Okay, it's revenue is moderately impressive, but we could pimp the fucker out for much more than it already makes.)
All I need is a little more experience, and a little more spare time. I honestly think, that this site has HUGE potential, branching out in several different areas. The minds of people that dig fetish, are complex in their desires, but at the same time VERY easily manipulated.
That is, if you know how to say what they want to hear. I learned how to say what they want to hear years ago.
My partner and I both have very strong business minds, myself by dealing with the technical stuff, and the visual aspect, and her by dealing with the big picture, bringing up ideas that never crossed my mind, and making it easy to put into motion. Combine that together, and you've got one helluva creative team.
So, the site for "The Mistress" is going to get an extreme makeover. that includes a tummy tuck, some liposuction, and a myriad of new accessories. Including an online store, the incorporation of E-mail domination, Pay-Per-View movies, and whatever else my partner in crime and I decide to toss in there.
Think what you want of me, for dealing with such sordid details on a regular basis, but I work my ass off.
It's not easy. And it won't be easy getting all of this done before September rolls around.
I'll find some time.
Big time.
I've been a partner in an adult-oriented website that deals with alternative sexuality for almost a year.
My partner and I, have been discussing methods of boosting sales with this website and have come to several conclusions.
First things first, it needs a total makeover. I designed it with absolutely NO previous experience, using Yahoo Sitebuilder. Needless to say, it's completely "Mickey-Moused" and slapped together.
Apparently, since it's conception in mid-April of 2004, we've had over 28,000 hits. That's fucking impressive, but revenue received from it, due to the fickle crowd browsing for that sort of thing, is NOT impressive. (Okay, it's revenue is moderately impressive, but we could pimp the fucker out for much more than it already makes.)
All I need is a little more experience, and a little more spare time. I honestly think, that this site has HUGE potential, branching out in several different areas. The minds of people that dig fetish, are complex in their desires, but at the same time VERY easily manipulated.
That is, if you know how to say what they want to hear. I learned how to say what they want to hear years ago.
My partner and I both have very strong business minds, myself by dealing with the technical stuff, and the visual aspect, and her by dealing with the big picture, bringing up ideas that never crossed my mind, and making it easy to put into motion. Combine that together, and you've got one helluva creative team.
So, the site for "The Mistress" is going to get an extreme makeover. that includes a tummy tuck, some liposuction, and a myriad of new accessories. Including an online store, the incorporation of E-mail domination, Pay-Per-View movies, and whatever else my partner in crime and I decide to toss in there.
Think what you want of me, for dealing with such sordid details on a regular basis, but I work my ass off.
It's not easy. And it won't be easy getting all of this done before September rolls around.
I'll find some time.
Gleeful Studentia... (A Brief)
What do you get when you cross a good mark and a sleep-deprived college student?
Gleeful Studentia. A mild form of Dementia, where said subject becomes giddy and thanks her instructor profusely.
I just got a 90% grade on my first draft of my Indesign course magazine today.
I can guarantee you that I NEVER got marks like this in highschool.
When I called my dad, he yelled at my mom, "Hey MA! She got an A-minus in school!"
My reply was "Fuck, Dad, call it 90 percent! It sounds better than a friggin A-minus!"
All he could do was laugh. Stupid semantics.
Some people's parents.
Gleeful Studentia. A mild form of Dementia, where said subject becomes giddy and thanks her instructor profusely.
I just got a 90% grade on my first draft of my Indesign course magazine today.
I can guarantee you that I NEVER got marks like this in highschool.
When I called my dad, he yelled at my mom, "Hey MA! She got an A-minus in school!"
My reply was "Fuck, Dad, call it 90 percent! It sounds better than a friggin A-minus!"
All he could do was laugh. Stupid semantics.
Some people's parents.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Dammit! (A brief...)
Do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to find a decent picture of "Battle Cat" from He Man online?
It's friggin near impossible.
It's friggin near impossible.
Music is my Heroin...Tunes to Groove by Version 0.2
Album: Permission To Land
Artist: The Darkness
Genre: Rawk.
Imagine if you will, a dimension where AC/DC and Queen mesh into one big glob of overly hairsprayed, Brit-glam, rock band. This, my darlings, is "The Darkness" zone.
An amalgamation of pants so tight that they look sewn on, shrieking vocals, and screaming guitars.
They absolutely rule.
The lead singer, one Justin Hawkins, could be called shrill, and quite often IS shrill, (much like my Grandmother when I forget to make my bed) but it just adds to the cheese factor of the whole album. This release is Fromage. Very good fromage.
Everyone that's heard any rock station in the past eight months has heard "I Believe In A Thing Called Love." and if you're lucky, you've seen the scrawny lead singer in naught but his pasty white english skin in the Video on T.V. It's very reminiscent of Queen, and David Bowie's stuff in the 80's, with space ships and beautiful women in bikini's, fur coats, and whatnot.
I LOVE this song. It was the Anthem of Summer for myself and Mizz Liz while we were living together, because it got us suped up for a night out.
"Get Your Hands Off My Woman" is sung so fast, it's unitelligible. You can't understand more than the line "Get your hands off my woman mother-fucker!" Although, from reading the lyrics, there are quite a few profanities tossed in there other than that particular one.
The funniest thing about this song, was listening to it on the bus, and hearing the final shriek of "Mother fuuuuuuuuuuccckkkkkerrrrrrr!" echo from my headphones. I was a mixture of mortified and hysterically amused. Seeing as there was a seven year old across the bus aisle.
This is an awesome album, great for summer parties, if people don't mind glam rock.
It get's a Glamazon rating of: 4.25/5 shoes.
Go get it.
Monday, February 14, 2005
SaWeeeet! I KNEW IT!
| You scored as Shera. Break out those tacky leotards, the Princess of Power is in the house! Suzanne Somers has nothin' on you, Shera. |
Which 1980's Cartoon Character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com
 |
Which 1980's Cartoon Character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com
Which 1980's Cartoon Character are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
Hallmark, Shmallmark...
Yes, it's the day of perpetual roses and chocolate, and I'm alone. Well, I'm alone physically.
I decided to indulge, by investing my hard earned $3.99 on a package of Double-Stuffed Oreo's(tm) and doing some laundry and homework.
Gosh, how romantic. Can you FEEL the love?
I had a lovely conversation with my sweetheart on Yahoo messenger last night, replete with an excited "Happy Valentines Day!" from him at midnight his time. It was confusing to hear that at 10 o' clock my time on the 13th, but I clued in fast enough.
He's doing alright. Better than I was worrying so avidly about, and he's resting.
He's alive, that's all that matters to me. I think a large part of my heart would die if he wasn't. I don't know exactly what I would do.
I still wish I was there, Valentine's Day or not.
I got several emails, phone calls and text messages from friends of mine,(both male and female) throughout the course of the day. At least my friends love me, and HEY! That's a wonderful thing. My friends are more than my family to me.
Valentine's Day hasn't had the positive connotation to it for me since 1997 when my grandfather died at the kitchen table from a heart attack.
How ironic, to die of heart failure when it's Valentine's Day. (And I'm pretty sure I'm using Irony in the right context. Correct me if I'm wrong.)
This year it's significantly more poingnant, being that I live with my Grandmother, and he was her husband. She's been pretty quiet today, and I can tell she misses him.
I do too.
Hence the thrill of terror through my mind when I read that Devin had a heart attack (or something similar) on the 12th of February. I refuse to lose two people I adore in that short a span between days. Perhaps it sounds selfish, but I'm not ready to have that happen, and I'm sure Dev isn't either.
The radio was playing absolute SHITE this morning,(And I NEVER say that about the beat.) it sounded like a very bad flashback to the early 90's dirty R&B.
Puhleese, HOW is that romance?
I'm all for love, I'm a huge romantic, but right now, it's just frustrating, and VERY good at alienating the single population of North America.
I'm pro the Steak and Blowjob Day instead. Everyone likes a good cut of steak, and I'm a damned good cook.
I decided to indulge, by investing my hard earned $3.99 on a package of Double-Stuffed Oreo's(tm) and doing some laundry and homework.
Gosh, how romantic. Can you FEEL the love?
I had a lovely conversation with my sweetheart on Yahoo messenger last night, replete with an excited "Happy Valentines Day!" from him at midnight his time. It was confusing to hear that at 10 o' clock my time on the 13th, but I clued in fast enough.
He's doing alright. Better than I was worrying so avidly about, and he's resting.
He's alive, that's all that matters to me. I think a large part of my heart would die if he wasn't. I don't know exactly what I would do.
I still wish I was there, Valentine's Day or not.
I got several emails, phone calls and text messages from friends of mine,(both male and female) throughout the course of the day. At least my friends love me, and HEY! That's a wonderful thing. My friends are more than my family to me.
Valentine's Day hasn't had the positive connotation to it for me since 1997 when my grandfather died at the kitchen table from a heart attack.
How ironic, to die of heart failure when it's Valentine's Day. (And I'm pretty sure I'm using Irony in the right context. Correct me if I'm wrong.)
This year it's significantly more poingnant, being that I live with my Grandmother, and he was her husband. She's been pretty quiet today, and I can tell she misses him.
I do too.
Hence the thrill of terror through my mind when I read that Devin had a heart attack (or something similar) on the 12th of February. I refuse to lose two people I adore in that short a span between days. Perhaps it sounds selfish, but I'm not ready to have that happen, and I'm sure Dev isn't either.
The radio was playing absolute SHITE this morning,(And I NEVER say that about the beat.) it sounded like a very bad flashback to the early 90's dirty R&B.
Puhleese, HOW is that romance?
I'm all for love, I'm a huge romantic, but right now, it's just frustrating, and VERY good at alienating the single population of North America.
I'm pro the Steak and Blowjob Day instead. Everyone likes a good cut of steak, and I'm a damned good cook.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Music is my Heroin...Tunes to Groove by. Version 0.1
Yes, you read it right boys and girls, I've decided to start "Tunes to Groove by..." up again. Enjoy.
I know I will.
Current album: Love, Angel, Music, Baby.
Artist: Gwen Stefani
Genre: "Alternative"
The princess of Punk-Pop, has ventured away from her No Doubt origins to create her first Solo release, "Love, Angel, Music, Baby."
Nevermind that Gwen is a Fox and a half, with a petite frame, bloodred lips, immaculate skin, Barbie bleached hair, and rack that I would DIE for, but her music is catchy.
Beyond catchy.
That Bitch!
Collaborating with Hip-Hop genius Dr. Dre, in "Rich Girl" (And don't THINK I didn't notice that it was a sampling of "If I Was A Rich Man," from "Fiddler on the Roof" there, Dre!) Originally this fact pissed me off beyond belief. However, I honestly have immeasurable respect for Dre, and his mastery of Hip-Hop. The more I listened to this song (being that it's played on "The Beat" every morning when I wake up...) and for some reason I can't explain properly, the staccato piano punctuation in it is VERY appealing to me.
Eve cleans up the house with her smooth rapping.
Noice and toight.
Gwen also collaborates with the creative monstrosity known as The Neptunes in "Hollaback Girl." Which sounds like one big long Cheerleader routine, except for the fact that she's telling some asshole that's been badmouthing her to meet her behind the bleachers so she can clean his clock, instead of his pipes. I've found myself belting along with it at the bus stop.
It's not like I care if people hear me. I'm not tone deaf. Even wearing my headphones when they are cranked at full volume.
And no, I didn't skip the other song I liked, being "What Are You Waiting For?" Where, from what it sounds like to me, Gwen is berating herself from being scared to put out a new album and to get her arse in gear. Because she's "still a super hot female." Fuck yeah.
This song was played at Sincity on Saturday night. and was very fun to dance to, even in stilettos.
Gwen seems to have an obsession with the Harajuku Girls of Japan, who take fashions that would normally only be worn AT fetish events (for instance the outfits worn by Liser(Betty Boop) and Allison(1940's sailor girl) commingled with freaky-deaky gothic shite, and wearing them as everyday fashion out in the streets.
Frankly, I find that incredibly hot, and apparently so does Ms. Stefani.
I give "Love, Angel, Music, Baby" a rating of Four out of Five Glamazon Shoes.
A worthwhile purchase indeed.
I know I will.
Current album: Love, Angel, Music, Baby.
Artist: Gwen Stefani
Genre: "Alternative"
The princess of Punk-Pop, has ventured away from her No Doubt origins to create her first Solo release, "Love, Angel, Music, Baby."
Nevermind that Gwen is a Fox and a half, with a petite frame, bloodred lips, immaculate skin, Barbie bleached hair, and rack that I would DIE for, but her music is catchy.
Beyond catchy.
That Bitch!
Collaborating with Hip-Hop genius Dr. Dre, in "Rich Girl" (And don't THINK I didn't notice that it was a sampling of "If I Was A Rich Man," from "Fiddler on the Roof" there, Dre!) Originally this fact pissed me off beyond belief. However, I honestly have immeasurable respect for Dre, and his mastery of Hip-Hop. The more I listened to this song (being that it's played on "The Beat" every morning when I wake up...) and for some reason I can't explain properly, the staccato piano punctuation in it is VERY appealing to me.
Eve cleans up the house with her smooth rapping.
Noice and toight.
Gwen also collaborates with the creative monstrosity known as The Neptunes in "Hollaback Girl." Which sounds like one big long Cheerleader routine, except for the fact that she's telling some asshole that's been badmouthing her to meet her behind the bleachers so she can clean his clock, instead of his pipes. I've found myself belting along with it at the bus stop.
It's not like I care if people hear me. I'm not tone deaf. Even wearing my headphones when they are cranked at full volume.
And no, I didn't skip the other song I liked, being "What Are You Waiting For?" Where, from what it sounds like to me, Gwen is berating herself from being scared to put out a new album and to get her arse in gear. Because she's "still a super hot female." Fuck yeah.
This song was played at Sincity on Saturday night. and was very fun to dance to, even in stilettos.
Gwen seems to have an obsession with the Harajuku Girls of Japan, who take fashions that would normally only be worn AT fetish events (for instance the outfits worn by Liser(Betty Boop) and Allison(1940's sailor girl) commingled with freaky-deaky gothic shite, and wearing them as everyday fashion out in the streets.
Frankly, I find that incredibly hot, and apparently so does Ms. Stefani.
I give "Love, Angel, Music, Baby" a rating of Four out of Five Glamazon Shoes.
A worthwhile purchase indeed.
Pre-Sincity Madness #2
Just ignore the Dorito's(tm) bag in the background. I sin occassionally in my eating choices.
Pre-SinCity Madness...
Taken after I did my Makeup, but before I put on the costume.
Well... I did put on the Choker.
Makeup is an art for me.
Well... I did put on the Choker.
Makeup is an art for me.
Whoa...
Well, my weekend was action packed.
SinCity was pretty fun. Absolutely packed, and I stood in line for two hours to get in, stubborn Taurus to the living end my darlings. It was pretty fun at the end. I got quite a few positive remarks on my costume.
The highlight of my evening had to be the guy playing the saxophone in "Blood Alley" which is just a brick inlaid alley behind the club itself. I shouted down at him if he had "summertime" by Ira and George Gershwin, and true enough he did. I then asked him if I could sing along with it, and proceeded to do my best Sarah Vaughan rendition, eliciting muchos applause once our impromptu duet had finished. I saw him inside the club later on, and he gave me the sweetest most appreciative kiss on the cheek. Apparently I helped him make twice the amount of money he normally does while busking in the back alley during Fetish night. (For two hours of play, he made over 100 bucks. Not too shabby.)
I've been known to make about 40 bucks on a Sunday morning at King George Skytrain station in an hour, singing acapella. I've never tried Downtown. Perhaps I should.
Sunday afternoon rolls around, Erik was gracious enough to let me crash at his place. (Thanks Sweetie!) I get picked up by a girl-friend of mine, and venture into New West, attempting indoor tanning for the first time ever, and finally (despite many efforts, summer, after summer... after summer...) to get some colour in my pasty-white, French-Canadian gams.
Hallejulah.
I get home, after being out for over 24 hours. Inspired to write.
I browse my quota of blogs for the day, only to find out some pretty shitty news.
Devin had a minor heart attack on Saturday night.
I think I stopped breathing momentarily.
The most infuriating thing about not being able to be with him on a day to day basis, is not being there when he's alone, and (I'm 99 percent sure) absolutely terrified. I made a phone call, but it hasn't been returned yet.
Considering I've been contemplating my own mortality the past while, I can't imagine what's running through his head. At least for now he's on light duties at work, and has an opportunity to stop burning the candle at both ends and perhaps get a little more rest, which is something he direly needs. Every single prayer and thought running through my head right now is dedicated to his well being.
Chin up, my love. I wish I was there, maybe to comfort myself as well as you.
*Sighs*
SinCity was pretty fun. Absolutely packed, and I stood in line for two hours to get in, stubborn Taurus to the living end my darlings. It was pretty fun at the end. I got quite a few positive remarks on my costume.
The highlight of my evening had to be the guy playing the saxophone in "Blood Alley" which is just a brick inlaid alley behind the club itself. I shouted down at him if he had "summertime" by Ira and George Gershwin, and true enough he did. I then asked him if I could sing along with it, and proceeded to do my best Sarah Vaughan rendition, eliciting muchos applause once our impromptu duet had finished. I saw him inside the club later on, and he gave me the sweetest most appreciative kiss on the cheek. Apparently I helped him make twice the amount of money he normally does while busking in the back alley during Fetish night. (For two hours of play, he made over 100 bucks. Not too shabby.)
I've been known to make about 40 bucks on a Sunday morning at King George Skytrain station in an hour, singing acapella. I've never tried Downtown. Perhaps I should.
Sunday afternoon rolls around, Erik was gracious enough to let me crash at his place. (Thanks Sweetie!) I get picked up by a girl-friend of mine, and venture into New West, attempting indoor tanning for the first time ever, and finally (despite many efforts, summer, after summer... after summer...) to get some colour in my pasty-white, French-Canadian gams.
Hallejulah.
I get home, after being out for over 24 hours. Inspired to write.
I browse my quota of blogs for the day, only to find out some pretty shitty news.
Devin had a minor heart attack on Saturday night.
I think I stopped breathing momentarily.
The most infuriating thing about not being able to be with him on a day to day basis, is not being there when he's alone, and (I'm 99 percent sure) absolutely terrified. I made a phone call, but it hasn't been returned yet.
Considering I've been contemplating my own mortality the past while, I can't imagine what's running through his head. At least for now he's on light duties at work, and has an opportunity to stop burning the candle at both ends and perhaps get a little more rest, which is something he direly needs. Every single prayer and thought running through my head right now is dedicated to his well being.
Chin up, my love. I wish I was there, maybe to comfort myself as well as you.
*Sighs*
Friday, February 11, 2005
If Ya Wanna Be Bad...
Dirrrrrrty lyrics... HOT!
"If Ya Wanna Be Bad Ya Gotta Be Good"
Bryan Adams
She got a nasty reputation - and a talent for sin
She's the kinda trouble I'd like to be in
I wanna be her lover - I wanna be her slave
But she's the kinda women makes me wanna misbehave
She said I'll give ya what you want boy - let's make it understood
That if ya wanna be bad ya gotta be good
She says there'll be no lying - no foolin' around
There'll be no seven day weekends -
no nights on the town
Well that's the way I want it -
that's the way it's gotta be
If you're looking for trouble better get it from me
So get on your knees boy and do what you should
If ya wanna be bad ya gotta be good (owww!)
Now she makes the laws -
she calls the shots
Do what she wants if you want what she's got
Can't have it both ways - you gotta choose
She can give you the rhythm - or she can give you the blues
Oh, if you want sugar better bring it on home
Better keep it in the kitchen cuz that's where it belongs
You gotta make her happy boy
Just take it from me
Or you'll never get none of that T.L.C.
If you're tryin' to get lucky
- better knock on wood
If ya wanna be bad ya gotta be good
"If Ya Wanna Be Bad Ya Gotta Be Good"
Bryan Adams
She got a nasty reputation - and a talent for sin
She's the kinda trouble I'd like to be in
I wanna be her lover - I wanna be her slave
But she's the kinda women makes me wanna misbehave
She said I'll give ya what you want boy - let's make it understood
That if ya wanna be bad ya gotta be good
She says there'll be no lying - no foolin' around
There'll be no seven day weekends -
no nights on the town
Well that's the way I want it -
that's the way it's gotta be
If you're looking for trouble better get it from me
So get on your knees boy and do what you should
If ya wanna be bad ya gotta be good (owww!)
Now she makes the laws -
she calls the shots
Do what she wants if you want what she's got
Can't have it both ways - you gotta choose
She can give you the rhythm - or she can give you the blues
Oh, if you want sugar better bring it on home
Better keep it in the kitchen cuz that's where it belongs
You gotta make her happy boy
Just take it from me
Or you'll never get none of that T.L.C.
If you're tryin' to get lucky
- better knock on wood
If ya wanna be bad ya gotta be good
A Quick Joke.
A guy walks into a bar with an octopus under his arm. He sets the octopus on a stool next to him and announces: "This is an amazing octopus. I'll bet anyone in this bar $50 that this octopus can play any instrument set in front of it."
None of the people could believe this, so one guy brought up a guitar. The octopus took hold of the guitar and started picking away, better than Jimi Hendrix. The man took $50 from the guitarist. Next someone brings up a trumpet. The octopus started playing the trumpet, better than Herb Alpert. The man won another $50 from the trumpeter. Then some guy brought up some bagpipes. The octopus picked up the bagpipes for a minute and, looking a little puzzled, set them down again.
"Can't you play the bagpipes?" asked the man. "Play it?" said the octopus, "I'm gonna screw it as soon as I figure out how to get its pajamas off."
(The ONLY thing that makes me wonder is WHY would you bring a trumpet to a bar? Freak.)
None of the people could believe this, so one guy brought up a guitar. The octopus took hold of the guitar and started picking away, better than Jimi Hendrix. The man took $50 from the guitarist. Next someone brings up a trumpet. The octopus started playing the trumpet, better than Herb Alpert. The man won another $50 from the trumpeter. Then some guy brought up some bagpipes. The octopus picked up the bagpipes for a minute and, looking a little puzzled, set them down again.
"Can't you play the bagpipes?" asked the man. "Play it?" said the octopus, "I'm gonna screw it as soon as I figure out how to get its pajamas off."
(The ONLY thing that makes me wonder is WHY would you bring a trumpet to a bar? Freak.)
Mmm...
Well, it was short lived but that feeling of "alone" went away for a whole hour and a half after my massage. (Which was fabulous.)
Whatever. I need to get completely inebriated tomorrow night. It won't really help, but it's worth the shot(s).
And the hangover.
I think I need a nap.
Whatever. I need to get completely inebriated tomorrow night. It won't really help, but it's worth the shot(s).
And the hangover.
I think I need a nap.
I Can't Get No, Sa-Tis-Fac-Tion...
*grumbles* I feel a bitchfest coming on...
Frustrated right now, VERY unsatisfied, and I'm not feeling attractive.
At all.
I know it's just a matter of my imagination getting the best of me, and that I'm just tired, a little burnt out from the week, hungry and lonely, but Fuck. It's seriously it's not a pleasant state of mind.
Perhaps it's just a feeling of neglect, or of being unappreciated. Loneliness, as usual has become that semi-permanant state of being. Even though I'm surrounded by people, every single day, I still have no one to really connect with. And that is trying at times.
Maybe it's the fact that no one has flirted with me in weeks. Well, yes and no. However, I'm not going into any further details.
I'm sure the feeling will pass soon enough.
Actually, I know it will pass in about two hours. Considering I get an hour long Swedish relaxation massage. (And no, there is no happy ending... I can do that on my own thanks.)
I know it's just stress eating away at me right now. I need to relax... *sighs*
My hands have started shaking again, and have been for the past week and a half or so, which is never a good sign.
I have this feeling that when the time comes, I'm going to be one of those old ladies, that shake uncontrollably doing the simplest tasks. Like drinking a cup of tea, or trying to get change out of my change purse when I'm buying my groceries. And that's a little scary. More than a little scary.
Maybe it's just that I've been contemplating my own mortality and taking life too seriously lately.
An acquaintance of mine, told me once that my eyes looked too sad for someone my age. Maybe it's that, for someone my age, I've seen a lot of nasty things happen. I've seen the worst that people have to offer. However no one takes that into consideration, being that I'm pretty good at concealing it. Even after everything I've seen, I'm still nauseatingly optimistic... It bothers me at times.
I know, it's hard to believe, but I'm actually fairly serious. Well, most of the time.
I just love to entertain people. I get a thrill out of making someone laugh, because life is difficult enough without joy in it.
I'm very, VERY glad it's Friday. I'm also very glad my masseuse is going to be here in about half an hour. I need to feel that numb, content, Zen-like frame of mind. I miss it. I haven't had a massage in months.
But what I REALLY want, is a hug. Simple eh?
Oh, and maybe a good, sound fucking.
Or maybe a combination of a hug, a massage, and a good, sound fucking.
Any way you look at it, it all sounds just peachy.
Catch ya on the flip-flop.
Linds.
Frustrated right now, VERY unsatisfied, and I'm not feeling attractive.
At all.
I know it's just a matter of my imagination getting the best of me, and that I'm just tired, a little burnt out from the week, hungry and lonely, but Fuck. It's seriously it's not a pleasant state of mind.
Perhaps it's just a feeling of neglect, or of being unappreciated. Loneliness, as usual has become that semi-permanant state of being. Even though I'm surrounded by people, every single day, I still have no one to really connect with. And that is trying at times.
Maybe it's the fact that no one has flirted with me in weeks. Well, yes and no. However, I'm not going into any further details.
I'm sure the feeling will pass soon enough.
Actually, I know it will pass in about two hours. Considering I get an hour long Swedish relaxation massage. (And no, there is no happy ending... I can do that on my own thanks.)
I know it's just stress eating away at me right now. I need to relax... *sighs*
My hands have started shaking again, and have been for the past week and a half or so, which is never a good sign.
I have this feeling that when the time comes, I'm going to be one of those old ladies, that shake uncontrollably doing the simplest tasks. Like drinking a cup of tea, or trying to get change out of my change purse when I'm buying my groceries. And that's a little scary. More than a little scary.
Maybe it's just that I've been contemplating my own mortality and taking life too seriously lately.
An acquaintance of mine, told me once that my eyes looked too sad for someone my age. Maybe it's that, for someone my age, I've seen a lot of nasty things happen. I've seen the worst that people have to offer. However no one takes that into consideration, being that I'm pretty good at concealing it. Even after everything I've seen, I'm still nauseatingly optimistic... It bothers me at times.
I know, it's hard to believe, but I'm actually fairly serious. Well, most of the time.
I just love to entertain people. I get a thrill out of making someone laugh, because life is difficult enough without joy in it.
I'm very, VERY glad it's Friday. I'm also very glad my masseuse is going to be here in about half an hour. I need to feel that numb, content, Zen-like frame of mind. I miss it. I haven't had a massage in months.
But what I REALLY want, is a hug. Simple eh?
Oh, and maybe a good, sound fucking.
Or maybe a combination of a hug, a massage, and a good, sound fucking.
Any way you look at it, it all sounds just peachy.
Catch ya on the flip-flop.
Linds.
Just A Brief... (Methinks I Have An Obsession With Briefs, Or Some Shit Like That...)
Went to Karaoke last night. Had fun fun fun.
However, I decided to put on an essential oil blend this morning entitled "Meditation One."
Perhaps, considering I'm sleep deprived, wearing aromatherapy oil designed to relax your mind and stimulate "ohm" thoughts, wasn't such a great idea. I'm finding myself quite sleepy in class.
A shout out to my parents, and I really should have done this yesterday, to wish them a very Happy 26th Anniversary. That's a huge milestone.
Another shout out to Erik, who turns 33 today. Happy Birthday, sweetheart!
And, on a sad note, my grandmother lost a very close friend, Vera on Tuesday. I've been meaning to write this in here since Wednesday when I found out.
I'll miss you Auntie Vera.
However, I decided to put on an essential oil blend this morning entitled "Meditation One."
Perhaps, considering I'm sleep deprived, wearing aromatherapy oil designed to relax your mind and stimulate "ohm" thoughts, wasn't such a great idea. I'm finding myself quite sleepy in class.
A shout out to my parents, and I really should have done this yesterday, to wish them a very Happy 26th Anniversary. That's a huge milestone.
Another shout out to Erik, who turns 33 today. Happy Birthday, sweetheart!
And, on a sad note, my grandmother lost a very close friend, Vera on Tuesday. I've been meaning to write this in here since Wednesday when I found out.
I'll miss you Auntie Vera.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Religious Experience...
So, the "Landlady" is a devout Catholic.
No biggie, I've always been open to religious discussion, and considering she's my Grandmother, I'm more inclined to not voice my more boisterous opinions. I've also been quite interested in Religion. Not so much the restrictions placed upon people by actually attending church, because I don't believe in institutionalized religion at all. You don't need to be in a building to have faith in god. (That goes along the same lines for whatever religion you are, or are not.)
Granted, I was baptized Catholic when I was just a wee babe, and I didn't really have a say in my designation of faith, but all in all, it's how you behave and think of yourself in the long run that's important, not which particular faith's god you were christened under.
The reason why I'm going on this long winded religious blab-fest, is that tonight, for the first time in YEARS, (seriously, years.) I attended church with my Grandmother.
Feeling like a complete fraud in a house of God, (Oooh! Poet and didn't know it!) is definitely not a pleasant way to feel. The reason why I went, is because today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent.
I stood/sat (depending on what everyone else did) there debating in my head for almost the entire first half of the sermon, whether or not I was actually going to commit myself to a ideological concept, and sacrifice one of life's guilty pleasures to strengthen me in the long run for 40 days and 40 nights.
I did.
I'm still debating exactly WHICH guilty pleasure I should sacrifice, and I'm leaning towards fasting.
Technically it's only on Wednesdays and Fridays, which isn't too harsh. I'm allowed to eat one full meal and two snacks, and given my eating habits as of late, that's usually the common amount of food I consume in a day anyways.
Homework usually holds more precedence over eating when I'm focused.
Is it for God? Honestly, I don't even think I believe in "God." I'm the sort of person that requires actual physical PROOF of something before I choose to believe in it. I have this sinking suspicion, that God isn't going to knock on my door, and when I open it, He'll (Or she, I'm not discriminating here...) introduce himself/herself, shake my hand, and perform a miracle before me in order to make me believe.
It's more to build my character. I'm doing it to remind me that there are people out there that are suffering, that don't even get the luxury of a full meal every week, let alone every day.
It's a reminder, that I'm only human, that I take the abundance of life's pleasures in this country for granted.
I can suffer a little, if only to sympathize with people that are in much worse situations. It's a reminder that in the end, when I die, I'll turn back to dust, the same as the people that are starving in third world countries when they die. We all end up in the same boat, so why don't we try walking in the other persons shoes?
I was contemplating giving up sex, but honestly, (and quite unfortunately) I don't get it often enough for it to be a real sacrifice. If that was the case, I've already gone over the amount of time allotted for Lent, and that was by choice.
Well... Mostly by choice. However, there's not much of an offering for attractive, intelligent, appealing (to me) men in this city anymore. I'm somewhat disheartened by that whole fact, but I'm not going to wither up and die from not fucking someone. (As much as I might complain.)
Anyways, it's horridly late, and I must retire to the boudoir.
Adios muchachos.
Linds.
No biggie, I've always been open to religious discussion, and considering she's my Grandmother, I'm more inclined to not voice my more boisterous opinions. I've also been quite interested in Religion. Not so much the restrictions placed upon people by actually attending church, because I don't believe in institutionalized religion at all. You don't need to be in a building to have faith in god. (That goes along the same lines for whatever religion you are, or are not.)
Granted, I was baptized Catholic when I was just a wee babe, and I didn't really have a say in my designation of faith, but all in all, it's how you behave and think of yourself in the long run that's important, not which particular faith's god you were christened under.
The reason why I'm going on this long winded religious blab-fest, is that tonight, for the first time in YEARS, (seriously, years.) I attended church with my Grandmother.
Feeling like a complete fraud in a house of God, (Oooh! Poet and didn't know it!) is definitely not a pleasant way to feel. The reason why I went, is because today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent.
I stood/sat (depending on what everyone else did) there debating in my head for almost the entire first half of the sermon, whether or not I was actually going to commit myself to a ideological concept, and sacrifice one of life's guilty pleasures to strengthen me in the long run for 40 days and 40 nights.
I did.
I'm still debating exactly WHICH guilty pleasure I should sacrifice, and I'm leaning towards fasting.
Technically it's only on Wednesdays and Fridays, which isn't too harsh. I'm allowed to eat one full meal and two snacks, and given my eating habits as of late, that's usually the common amount of food I consume in a day anyways.
Homework usually holds more precedence over eating when I'm focused.
Is it for God? Honestly, I don't even think I believe in "God." I'm the sort of person that requires actual physical PROOF of something before I choose to believe in it. I have this sinking suspicion, that God isn't going to knock on my door, and when I open it, He'll (Or she, I'm not discriminating here...) introduce himself/herself, shake my hand, and perform a miracle before me in order to make me believe.
It's more to build my character. I'm doing it to remind me that there are people out there that are suffering, that don't even get the luxury of a full meal every week, let alone every day.
It's a reminder, that I'm only human, that I take the abundance of life's pleasures in this country for granted.
I can suffer a little, if only to sympathize with people that are in much worse situations. It's a reminder that in the end, when I die, I'll turn back to dust, the same as the people that are starving in third world countries when they die. We all end up in the same boat, so why don't we try walking in the other persons shoes?
I was contemplating giving up sex, but honestly, (and quite unfortunately) I don't get it often enough for it to be a real sacrifice. If that was the case, I've already gone over the amount of time allotted for Lent, and that was by choice.
Well... Mostly by choice. However, there's not much of an offering for attractive, intelligent, appealing (to me) men in this city anymore. I'm somewhat disheartened by that whole fact, but I'm not going to wither up and die from not fucking someone. (As much as I might complain.)
Anyways, it's horridly late, and I must retire to the boudoir.
Adios muchachos.
Linds.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Apparently...
According to my junk mail, I can increase my penis size by one to three inches, with a viagra substitute.
Logically thinking, that means I would have a one to three inch penis.
Any way you look at it, it's still not worth bragging about.
Or maybe its a one two.three inch (12.3") penis? That would be worth bragging about...
Hell... That would put Ron Jeremy out of career options.
Yes, Ladies and Germs, I've seen my fair share of dirty, dirty porn. And most of it, though visually stimulating, is poor quality, and some of it even has a PLOT! WTF is up with a PLOT in porn? I just want action. I don't want dialogue. Shut the Fuck up, slap your ass mister, and get it on already.
Also, a GNN (Glamazon Network News) newsflash for you Local Vancouverite Yokels that are a fan of singing the lyrics to poorly redone midi-file songs in front of large crowds of people.
There was a huge lull on Monday evenings for Karaoke in this city after The Roxy stopped holding it's "Vancouver Idol" contest, which I attended quite frequently, and even ended up getting into the semi-finalist stage once or twice by singing some Aretha. (Unfortunately, my tits weren't big enough, (or my arse wasn't small enough) to grant me enough applause from the jailbait that was responsible for deciding who won the nights event. I guess breast size beats out actual TALENT, ten to one.)
Granted, I haven't actually attended Karaoke in a coon's age, (over three and a half months) and I've been chomping at the bit to go again. They've started it up again at The Buffalo Club on Granville Street, which is cause for mild alarum in the Karaoke clique-age that has developed in this city (the fact that there even IS one, is mildly disturbing.) Apparently it's the same DJ (DJ Tom) that hosted the Roxy Karaoke, and all in all, he's a pretty good host alongside his sidekick Don G. Swinger, previously the Bassist for the 90's Rock band "The Odds."
Always an entertaining devilish duo. Although I'm not sure if Don is going to be accompanying Tom at this particular venue.
According to Glamazon sources, karaoke goes on until closing time.. (I figure that's about 11pm, due to the fact that it's a Monday.)
Goody. I need to practice before I head on down to Dallas anyways.
Logically thinking, that means I would have a one to three inch penis.
Any way you look at it, it's still not worth bragging about.
Or maybe its a one two.three inch (12.3") penis? That would be worth bragging about...
Hell... That would put Ron Jeremy out of career options.
Yes, Ladies and Germs, I've seen my fair share of dirty, dirty porn. And most of it, though visually stimulating, is poor quality, and some of it even has a PLOT! WTF is up with a PLOT in porn? I just want action. I don't want dialogue. Shut the Fuck up, slap your ass mister, and get it on already.
Also, a GNN (Glamazon Network News) newsflash for you Local Vancouverite Yokels that are a fan of singing the lyrics to poorly redone midi-file songs in front of large crowds of people.
There was a huge lull on Monday evenings for Karaoke in this city after The Roxy stopped holding it's "Vancouver Idol" contest, which I attended quite frequently, and even ended up getting into the semi-finalist stage once or twice by singing some Aretha. (Unfortunately, my tits weren't big enough, (or my arse wasn't small enough) to grant me enough applause from the jailbait that was responsible for deciding who won the nights event. I guess breast size beats out actual TALENT, ten to one.)
Granted, I haven't actually attended Karaoke in a coon's age, (over three and a half months) and I've been chomping at the bit to go again. They've started it up again at The Buffalo Club on Granville Street, which is cause for mild alarum in the Karaoke clique-age that has developed in this city (the fact that there even IS one, is mildly disturbing.) Apparently it's the same DJ (DJ Tom) that hosted the Roxy Karaoke, and all in all, he's a pretty good host alongside his sidekick Don G. Swinger, previously the Bassist for the 90's Rock band "The Odds."
Always an entertaining devilish duo. Although I'm not sure if Don is going to be accompanying Tom at this particular venue.
According to Glamazon sources, karaoke goes on until closing time.. (I figure that's about 11pm, due to the fact that it's a Monday.)
Goody. I need to practice before I head on down to Dallas anyways.
It's been said...
That you should never have a picture taken of you with an alcoholic bevvy or a cigarette in your hand. (I've broken both of these... Repeatedly. *See profile pic for a PERFECT example.* )
That no matter how bad things seem, they can ALWAYS get worse. (Fo sho!)
That good help is hard to find, and even harder to keep. (Like me quitting Safeway. :P)
That size doesn't always matter. (When in fact, it plays a large... or small, depending... role.)
That love is blind. (Unless he's really ugly. JUST KIDDING!)
What's the point of all this? Nothing really. It popped into my head whilst browsing an old email sent to me from tickle.com for matchmaking. Dude was holding a beer and posing at the bar. I don't think that's the sort of message you wanna be sending when you're up on a personals website. "HEY! I'm a barstar! I'll fuck ya then toss ya aside like garbage!"
Perhaps I'm exaggerating....
As an aside...
I'm learning how to eat again, it's going along fairly well. I haven't managed to drool on anything, which is always good.
Since when did they have to put a disclaimer on the side of the cups for Slurpee's that "brain freeze may occur!" What? D'ya think that sucking down a 1.5 litre cup of frozen flavoured slush REALLY fast, isn't going to affect you?
If you haven't figured that out by now, then you've never been a thirsty seven year old on a hot summer's day...
I'm craving Butter Chicken and Basmati rice like mad the past few days... That's unusual. I normally crave it only on Thursdays. It's time for a trip to Curry Express.
That no matter how bad things seem, they can ALWAYS get worse. (Fo sho!)
That good help is hard to find, and even harder to keep. (Like me quitting Safeway. :P)
That size doesn't always matter. (When in fact, it plays a large... or small, depending... role.)
That love is blind. (Unless he's really ugly. JUST KIDDING!)
What's the point of all this? Nothing really. It popped into my head whilst browsing an old email sent to me from tickle.com for matchmaking. Dude was holding a beer and posing at the bar. I don't think that's the sort of message you wanna be sending when you're up on a personals website. "HEY! I'm a barstar! I'll fuck ya then toss ya aside like garbage!"
Perhaps I'm exaggerating....
As an aside...
I'm learning how to eat again, it's going along fairly well. I haven't managed to drool on anything, which is always good.
Since when did they have to put a disclaimer on the side of the cups for Slurpee's that "brain freeze may occur!" What? D'ya think that sucking down a 1.5 litre cup of frozen flavoured slush REALLY fast, isn't going to affect you?
If you haven't figured that out by now, then you've never been a thirsty seven year old on a hot summer's day...
I'm craving Butter Chicken and Basmati rice like mad the past few days... That's unusual. I normally crave it only on Thursdays. It's time for a trip to Curry Express.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Ouuuch...
Tongue swollen and VERY angry at me(but that's my own damned fault.) Eyes squinty from working on Illustrator too long. (That means I should have done my homework a few days ago instead of all at once today.)
And I think, that maybe... Just maybe, my neck and shoulder muscles have turned into rocks.
I need a massage. *pouts* I think I'm going to take up Calesthenics or Yoga soon to balance out all this hunched over-ness from comp work.
I'm taking a break for a bit. Catch y'all on the Flip-flop.
Linds.
...
...
Oh yeah, and the thing I learned today?
7-11 Slurpee's are the equivalent of Holy Water when you have a newly peirced tongue. Boy howdy. That's some good frozen Sprite.
The other thing I learned today?
Do your fuckin homework a lot sooner than the night before it's due. What a nightmare.
And the last thing I learned today (and every time I see it...)?
Is that no matter how shitty my evening seems, how bogged down in homework, or various and assorted other tasks that seem on to be on my plate all at once, I've got a fabulous picture of Devin up as my wallpaper on my laptop.
And it always makes me feel better.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Quote of the Day:
-- Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792-1822)
And I think, that maybe... Just maybe, my neck and shoulder muscles have turned into rocks.
I need a massage. *pouts* I think I'm going to take up Calesthenics or Yoga soon to balance out all this hunched over-ness from comp work.
I'm taking a break for a bit. Catch y'all on the Flip-flop.
Linds.
...
...
Oh yeah, and the thing I learned today?
7-11 Slurpee's are the equivalent of Holy Water when you have a newly peirced tongue. Boy howdy. That's some good frozen Sprite.
The other thing I learned today?
Do your fuckin homework a lot sooner than the night before it's due. What a nightmare.
And the last thing I learned today (and every time I see it...)?
Is that no matter how shitty my evening seems, how bogged down in homework, or various and assorted other tasks that seem on to be on my plate all at once, I've got a fabulous picture of Devin up as my wallpaper on my laptop.
And it always makes me feel better.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Quote of the Day:
Soul meets soul on lovers lips.
-- Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792-1822)
Sunday, February 06, 2005
AAAAARRRRGHHHH!
I just spent a little over an hour, trying to incorporate a "Glamazon Recommended Listening..." section in the sidebar over there.
I finally think I've gotten it down pat, that it looks good, save my template, republish, and bada bing, bada boom... Oooooh the anticipation.... and, and...
It's not there.
Fucker!!!
I'm sure my yowling anguished cry could be heard by Cryptic over in Oz.
At least the "Glamazon Daily Recommended Reading..." section worked. Maybe tomorrow I'll attempt that stupid thing again... Right now my eyes hurt.
*Postscript note* I REALLY should try to refresh my browser. *hangs head in shame.*
It worked just fine. It's over there on the side.
I finally think I've gotten it down pat, that it looks good, save my template, republish, and bada bing, bada boom... Oooooh the anticipation.... and, and...
It's not there.
Fucker!!!
I'm sure my yowling anguished cry could be heard by Cryptic over in Oz.
At least the "Glamazon Daily Recommended Reading..." section worked. Maybe tomorrow I'll attempt that stupid thing again... Right now my eyes hurt.
*Postscript note* I REALLY should try to refresh my browser. *hangs head in shame.*
It worked just fine. It's over there on the side.
Hrm, I Wonder...
If my interminable physical attraction to older men, when I was younger (and even up to recently) such as Harrison Ford (OMG that movie poster for Indiana Jones has fueled many of my girly fantasies, and made me want to be an archaeologist for almost ten years) and George Clooney (Hello! Oceans Eleven people!) Is the reason why I don't date men my age.
I actually refuse to. Perhaps I'm limiting myself for doing so, but I really couldn't care less.
24 might be good for *ahem* stamina, but I've actually sat down and thought about it, and the most attractive men (to me) that I've dated, are usually around the 28-38 year old range.
And honestly, what 28-38 year old male is going to be disappointed that he has a 24 year old chick on his arm? There's gotta be a psychological benefit for them too. (Older guy + Younger chick = Fuck yeah, I'm a Stud.)
I actually refuse to. Perhaps I'm limiting myself for doing so, but I really couldn't care less.
24 might be good for *ahem* stamina, but I've actually sat down and thought about it, and the most attractive men (to me) that I've dated, are usually around the 28-38 year old range.
And honestly, what 28-38 year old male is going to be disappointed that he has a 24 year old chick on his arm? There's gotta be a psychological benefit for them too. (Older guy + Younger chick = Fuck yeah, I'm a Stud.)
Responsibility VS. Urges...
I've got the HUGEST urge to go to the club get absolutely hammered, smoke too much and go get laid by some nameless hottie at the end of the evening. The "Bad Girl" I was for so long before I decided to improve my life, is balking at her restrictions right now, and it's torturous at times.
Urgh.
Responsibility sucks. I never had to worry about going to work hungover, because work didn't require thinking. School does.
Ah well. Suck it up princess. I get to get smashed at SinCity on the 12th. I'm going to make it worth the wait.
And a majority of the time, it's okay being a "Good Girl" with occasional bad intentions.
Urgh.
Responsibility sucks. I never had to worry about going to work hungover, because work didn't require thinking. School does.
Ah well. Suck it up princess. I get to get smashed at SinCity on the 12th. I'm going to make it worth the wait.
And a majority of the time, it's okay being a "Good Girl" with occasional bad intentions.
Numerology...
On a whim, I decided to check out Numerology on the Web, because one of my fellow students studied it for ages, and had mentioned that the letter L, being the first letter of my name, is fairly signifigant for creativity. Thusly, being insatiably curious, I proceed to Google "Numerology."
After a few bogus links where they expected me to pay (Pffft! As if!) I found THIS site. Which is extremely detailed, very easy to use, and from my experience, incredibly accurate.
Granted, it takes approximately 45 minutes to an hour of your time, (longer if you don't read very quickly, or have trouble adding single digit numbers together.) And I would also highly recommend having a pen and paper handy to do your calculations out, and find out what letters in your name symbolize which numbers.
It could all be a bunch of bollocks.
I will admit, that the floating, photoshopped head of the author of the site in the side bar is a tad creepy, since by doing so it made him appear to be a freaky cult leader, but all in all, I was VERY satisfied with my readings. I know my flaws more than anyone else could possibly imagine, and I know how to avoid doing them, but to have this "scientific" method of divining my personality and future was fascinating.
Best thing about it all? It's completely free. You don't even have to plug in your email addy.
If you've got an hour to spare in your busy schedule, I'd recommend satisfying your curiosity.
After a few bogus links where they expected me to pay (Pffft! As if!) I found THIS site. Which is extremely detailed, very easy to use, and from my experience, incredibly accurate.
Granted, it takes approximately 45 minutes to an hour of your time, (longer if you don't read very quickly, or have trouble adding single digit numbers together.) And I would also highly recommend having a pen and paper handy to do your calculations out, and find out what letters in your name symbolize which numbers.
It could all be a bunch of bollocks.
I will admit, that the floating, photoshopped head of the author of the site in the side bar is a tad creepy, since by doing so it made him appear to be a freaky cult leader, but all in all, I was VERY satisfied with my readings. I know my flaws more than anyone else could possibly imagine, and I know how to avoid doing them, but to have this "scientific" method of divining my personality and future was fascinating.
Best thing about it all? It's completely free. You don't even have to plug in your email addy.
If you've got an hour to spare in your busy schedule, I'd recommend satisfying your curiosity.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
April, May and June...
M'eh. I got impatient and googled them myself.
The trio of nieces in fact DID exist.
However, I'm of the opinion that April, May and June, other than being spectacular months in and of themselves, (I'm particularly partial to May, myself...) were NOT her nieces, but in fact bastard-ettes between Daisy and some nameless beau, shipped off to her married sister Dora Duck, because of the inappropriate nature of their conception and birth during the time era that Mizz Daisy "Deep-Bill" Duck was in the spotlight.
Same goes for Huey, Louie and Dewey, but we all knew that Donald was a player. Who could resist that voice?
Fuckin promiscuous ducks.
The trio of nieces in fact DID exist.
However, I'm of the opinion that April, May and June, other than being spectacular months in and of themselves, (I'm particularly partial to May, myself...) were NOT her nieces, but in fact bastard-ettes between Daisy and some nameless beau, shipped off to her married sister Dora Duck, because of the inappropriate nature of their conception and birth during the time era that Mizz Daisy "Deep-Bill" Duck was in the spotlight.
Same goes for Huey, Louie and Dewey, but we all knew that Donald was a player. Who could resist that voice?
Fuckin promiscuous ducks.
Another Brief...
My Landlady (a.k.a. Grandma) is addicted to Crosswords.
Crosswords and Jigsaw puzzles.
She commonly asks me questions about the crossword clues given in the New York Times when I manage to stumble up the stairs from "The Dungeon" into the Horrible light of day.
The one she asked me today, and I have absolutely NO clue what the answer could be, is "Does Daisy Duck have nieces named April, May, and June?"
My response other than "What the hell kinda question is that for the New York Times Crossword!?" was "I don't bloody well know."
Maybe you guys do. Pray tell you enlighten me.
I suppose I could just Google it, but it's more fun to ask this way. Plus, it's kinda cute.
She also tends to ask me if I've seen (insert whatever shitty Cable television programme here) before. Lady, I don't even have my T.V. plugged in downstairs. What do YOU think?
Crosswords and Jigsaw puzzles.
She commonly asks me questions about the crossword clues given in the New York Times when I manage to stumble up the stairs from "The Dungeon" into the Horrible light of day.
The one she asked me today, and I have absolutely NO clue what the answer could be, is "Does Daisy Duck have nieces named April, May, and June?"
My response other than "What the hell kinda question is that for the New York Times Crossword!?" was "I don't bloody well know."
Maybe you guys do. Pray tell you enlighten me.
I suppose I could just Google it, but it's more fun to ask this way. Plus, it's kinda cute.
She also tends to ask me if I've seen (insert whatever shitty Cable television programme here) before. Lady, I don't even have my T.V. plugged in downstairs. What do YOU think?
Friday, February 04, 2005
Kanji...
A poorly detailed close-up (in my opinion) of the kanji up my spine.
Once I have an available, and easily amused photographer, I'll post clearer photographs.
Once I have an available, and easily amused photographer, I'll post clearer photographs.
Self Taken Portrait of My Back Tattoos.
No, I'm not a contortionist. It was a concentrated effort and several attempts, (about 17 attempts.) to get all of them in one shot.
The Kanji down the centre of my spine was done almost a month ago, and I fully healed after about two weeks...
From top to bottom it says "Love, Dream, Music, Friendship" all four, very vital in my life.
As for the rest of the backpiece, I've yet to decide what to fill it in with, but I know that it will be several sittings, over a one or two month long span.
I'm glad I've got a high pain tolerance.
The Kanji down the centre of my spine was done almost a month ago, and I fully healed after about two weeks...
From top to bottom it says "Love, Dream, Music, Friendship" all four, very vital in my life.
As for the rest of the backpiece, I've yet to decide what to fill it in with, but I know that it will be several sittings, over a one or two month long span.
I'm glad I've got a high pain tolerance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)