WTF, Mate?!

Holy miss popularity.

I'm getting messages, and contacts emailing me like mad from both okcupid.com AND plentyoffish.com, (free matchmaking sites) as well as flickr.com, (my photograph uploading site) online. What the hell? Is my honesty that intreguing? I'm almost overwhelmed. My email inbox certainly is. It's so full it's begging for a bucket. (Bonus points if you know what pop culture reference I'm hinting at there.)

I mean seriously. I'm not THAT shit hot!

That's okay though I'll just dissapoint them in person when they meet me. I'm used to that crap.

I haven't gone to bed yet, I have to show a client some work at eleven AM downtown. I'm fucked, isn't it great? I'm doing WAY too many long stints of not sleeping all night long. I dread what happens when I have to get back into a regular sleep schedule for school.

So honestly, if you're wondering why I'm not writing so prolifically in GSD, there's your answer. finishing up a contract for a client, and getting hit on. Lordy.

My Other Jesus is a Camero.

I've officially recieved my very first "Nigerian Scam" email! It's like I've lost my virginity, or hit puberty or something. I'm so excited! Not only is it a Nigerian style scam email, it's also religious propaganda! Whoopee!! I feel so loved. After all, It is addressed "Attn: Dear beloved," How professionally endearing.

But wait, beloved of who? Jesus? Wait, wait, wait. Back that gravy train up... If Jesus loves me, how come he doesn't call me the next morning?

Spelling errors and grammatical errors are too numerous to mention, but the ones I felt like pointing out are clearly indicated, Why? Well, because I'm an asshole.

Mrs Sandra William.
Attn:Dear beloved,

I am the above named person from Kuwait. I am married to Mr. Lobi William who worked with Ivory Coast embassy in Kuwait for nine years before we left to Abidjan where he was re-appointed as a navy officer before his untimely death in the year 2003.

We were married for eleven years without a child. He died in his home country Ivory Coast after a brief illness that lasted for only four days Before his death we were both born again Christian. Since his death I decided not to remarry or get a child outside my matrimonial home which the Bible is against. When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of $3.5Musd (Three Million Five Hundred Thousand U.S. Dollars) in cash concealed in a trunk box and deposits it with a security company here in Abidjan which he declare and register it as family valuables.
Recently, my Doctor told me that i have serious sickness which is cancer problem. The one that disturbs me most is the high blood preasure sickness. Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to a church or individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct herein. I want a church or individual that will use this fund for orphanages, widows,propagating the word of God and to endeavor that thehouse of God is maintained. The Bible made us tounderstand that“Blessed is the hand that giveth” I took this decision because I don’t have any child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are not Christians and ***I don’t want my husband’s efforts to be used by unbelievers.*** I don’t want a situation where this money will be used in an ungodly way. This is why I am taking this decision.

I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going. I know that I am going to be in the bosom of the Lord. Exodus 14 VS 14 says that “Some religious stuff that I'm not posting here go look it up if you're curious”. I don’t need any telephone communication in this regard because of my health hence the presence of my husband’s relatives were around me always. I don’t want them to know about this development.

With God all things are possible. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the security company here in Abidjan which he deposits trunk box. I will also issue you an authority letter that will prove you the present beneficiary of this fund. I want you and the church to always pray for me because the lord is my shephard. My happiness is that I lived a life of a worthy Christian. Whoever that Wants to serve the Lord must serve him in spirit and Truth. Please always be prayerful all through your life.Contact me on the above e_mail address for more informations, Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I Stated herein.

Hoping to receive your reply.presently,I am still in my late husbands home country abidjan capital city of ivory coast.


Remain blessed in the Lord.
Yours in Christ,
Mrs Sandra William

*** Point taken... I'm a pretty shitty Catholic. The dumb bitch should just go get some jewelery and a new outfit for her funeral, and toss the rest to the locals in some kickass parade. That would rule.

OH! and there's a great red vs. blue skit online that you can get on Real live Versus the Internet that sums up these things in three sentences that I'm going to paraphrase right now.

'Hello, I am Nigerian royalty. Please excuse the fact that I can't spell Nigerian... Or Royalty."

Written from the bed of Linds.

I Think...

I've done enough writing for tonight.
The likelihood of me scoring anything from that fecking profile, is probably slim to none. *shrugs* C'est la Vie.

Anyways... If you haven't heard of "OK Cupid" yet, go check it out. It's very neat. Any dating and quiz site that uses the term "For Fuck's sake" when explaining what to NOT have as the pictures you upload, is friggin phenomenal to me.

What kinda person am I in relationships?

Honestly, this had me in hysterics. It's pretty accurate, so I don't mind slapping it up on here. Funny funny shit. I think the picture had me laughing the most. You can take it here.

The Battleaxe
Deliberate Brutal Love Master (DBLMf)

Sharp. Hardened. Dominating. The Battleaxe sweeps all before her, smiting and what not.

You've had a number of serious relationships, so you obviously have many attractive qualities. You're well experienced in dealing with other people's weirdnesses, and it's likely you're good in bed by now, too. Also, like the drunken housewife chucking Heinekens at her no-good husband, you've got a lot of energy.

People can tell you're sophisticated, and so you find yourself the object of infatuations quite often. But it's how you handle yourself in your relationships that gets you the 'brutal' tag. Controlling? Imperious? Overbearing? Yes, please. (Holy shit! Ouch! Let's not soften that at all okay? Jeeeebus.)

Remarkably, you don't mind the same from your men. You've experience enough to take whatever you dish out. Overall, you're a very good person and a capable lover, and when the time comes you'll make a fine divorcee.
____________________________________________

Tuhhhriffic. I told you guys I was going to be the cat lady when I was older... No husband, no kids, just half a dozen cats and me yelling at the kids running across my apartment building's little patch of grass outside of my patio.

Hrmph. Hey Erik! Do you think it's accurate? You know me really well in this arena.

I know for a fact that I like a partner with the balls to tell me off when I've pushed too far, and said too much. That being said, I know that I am really quite sensitive, and pretty understanding. I just don't tolerate bullshit. I do dish out a bit of bullshit though. Hey, I'm honest. I'm also working on it.

Wow, intelligent memes!

the Wit (76% dark, 34% spontaneous, 26% vulgar)

your humor style: CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probably an intellectual, but don't take that to mean pretentious. Yourealize 'dumb' can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudeness for its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat. I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer. Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion. You probably loved the Office. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/. PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais The 3-Variable Funny Test! - it rules - If you're interested, try my latest: The Terrorism Test

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 97% on darkness You scored higher than 15% on spontaneity You scored higher than 25% on vulgarity

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Top Ten Men, #5, Brad Pitt.

I get it! I get it! I was a GOOD girl today!

Brad Pitt was born in Oklahoma and raised in Springfield, Missouri. Pitt attended the University of Missouri, where he majored in journalism with a focus on advertising. He left college two credits short of graduating to move to California.

Before he became successful at acting, Pitt supported himself by driving strippers in limos, moving refrigerators and dressing as a giant chicken while working for "el Pollo Loco." He's one hot chicken, alright. I wouldn't mind seeing what's underneath those feathers...

Chosen by Empire magazine as one of the 100 Sexiest Stars in film history (#23) Given title "Sexiest Man Alive" from People Magazine. In 1994, unless he's got his mountain man beard going on, I tend to agree wholeheartedly with the rest of the universe on his outstanding Hot-ness.

He's dated hot babes that are on the internet, like Gwyneth Paltrow, Juliette Lewis, Geena Davis, and the moping Jennifer Aniston, as well as recently paying attention to The Mayor's prize coquette extraordinaire, Angelina Jolie.

Having starred in Troy, Ocean's 11 and 12, the unforgettable Fight Club, Seven Years in Tibet, Seven, Twelve Monkeys, and a crapload of other movies... However, pretty much the entire time I was watching, I was praying that he would parade around nude. I got my wish in Troy. *grins*

WTF?

Well, I guess with Internet Explorer, the piss poor browser of the internet world, GSD looks like HELL. No matter HOW I try to fix my template. Screw it.

I apologize to you guys that use it, Really, I'm sorry. *winks* So, if you have to scroll all the way down to the bottom to see my profile, any of my links, blah blah blah, the cd listings, you name it. The designer in me is nauseated at the mere thought of it looking the way it's not supposed to. any help would be appreciated, because I've tried about three dozen different ways to fix it and I cannot.

Firefox, however, displays it all nice, pretty and proper-like. You guys should check it out, if you haven't already.

As for my template and the changing of the design layout, fuhgeddaboutit. Until I figure out how to fix it, it's staying EXACTLY the way it is, with a few minor tweaks.

*kisses*

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Major Fucking Rehaul.

Because Microsoft's Internet Explorer, sucks balls. I'm *quite* irritated at the moment with it. Bear with me. Linds' signature look shall return, and quite likely it's going to be different than it was previous.

Stupid fucking browser. You should all use FIREFOX!

And how come no one told me this shit? Seriously guys. I DO listen.

*grumbles profuse profanities*

Top Ten Men: #6, Johnny Depp.

Jerilyn asked me with a virtual pout to her query, if Mr. Depp was to be on my top ten males list for hottest men.

Yes. Of course he is. I have my own reasons.

Not only is he an intreguing individual, he's also (in my opinion) a pretty damned talented actor. He plays the tortured alienated soul to perfection, the suave, debonnaire rake, the sensitive soul, the slightly mad pirate, the mildly handicapped. You name it. Sure guys. have a hayday. He can play a retard. I don't care.

What matters to me, is how Johnny boy captures sensuality. It's in almost every single photograph I've seen of him, and I'm a sucker for a sensual man. It's not even sexuality. It's confidence, it's attitude, it's the ability to embrace masculinity and also be a sexually aware lovin' machine. He's not physically perfect, and he's probably not mentally perfect, but it's the ideal that's behind that man, the notion, that makes him so desireable.

Voom. Voooooooom!

Tsk me all you want. I've got my own mental babble going on when he saunters across the screen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go watch Chocolat, and Pirates of the Carribbean. I guess it's pretty obvious what position role I like Johnny boy in.

Hot Male Entertainment.

Okay, I realize that I have not posted a top ten man for a while, but honestly I'll get on it. I think I'll inform the Mitchieville crew that I'll be posting them in here, and not on there, since The Mayor went and finished his top ten list like... fucking eons before mine. Whatevs.

I do, however, have some hot male entertainment for you, to keep you busy while you wait.



Wait for it..


Keep waiting....


Oh!


OhOH!


OOOOHHHYEAHHH!!!












What a stud!

Silhouettes

Amazing, what touching photos up at four am in photoshop inspires. Click for a larger view.

Ouroboros.

Music of the Moment: Enigma -- Album: MCMXC A.D.
Moby -- Album: 18

I was talking again with Ian, until the wee hours of the morning. Not waxing philisophic this time, but more having someone to talk to regarding my fears at this moment in time. My concerns. I'm a worried girl.

It came up, last night/this morning, where he was mildly chastising me about living by my morals and my beliefs and my values... He was surprised to learn a few things about me. Okay. perhaps chastising is the wrong word. not even "Tsk-ing"... hrm... Passionately conversing? Heated debate? Animated discussion?

At any rate, he learned some stuff about me.

I wear three sterling silver rings. For a while, during the portion I was "dating" Devin, I was wearing two of them on my left ring finger, as a way to remind myself where my dedication lay. Probably a foolish notion to do so, but at the same time it was effective, it certainly reminded me of him. I might not have been the most diligent, but I never forgot about him. Though, since Monday or so, they've been replaced on my right ring finger, and I have promised myself that I will never wear another ring on that finger, unless I'm actually married/engaged. Otherwise I am just lying to myself.

These first of these two rings is a solitaire white gold plated austrian crystal promise ring I gave myself years ago, after my first relationship, and the second, is a ring that TJP gave me. It's a band of small sapphires and either diamonds or Austrian Crystal. I've never had it appraised, and I never care to. It's wealth of both of these rings is not monetary, but fully emotional.

I've actually been "married" to one of of my friends, in laughter filled, whimsical ceremony with Crystal B... And I'm not joking when I say that these people are frighteningly important to me.

There are rings traded between a large portion of us. It's an interesting concept, and not one I share lightly with people I don't know, or would trust with my life. I've got a ring from Elizabeth that I never remove, both of my Crystals have one from me, Ryan has one from me, and so does Erik.

Erik never knew what exactly I meant by giving it to him, but I guess he does now. He doesn't have to wear it, because I know he doesn't dig wearing rings. It's more the thought that goes along with it that matters.

They aren't usually expensive, and they are usually ones I've worn for a little while before I give them to the person they seem to suit. Erik has a rounded rather wedding band style sterling silver ring, that looks magnificent in its simplicity on his gorgeous hands. Oh, his hands. *sighs*

Crystal D has a wide flat band with symbols etched into it that look like little animals and people, and Crystal B has a narrow silver band with little arrows like this <> going all around it. Ryan has sterling silver celtic knotwork. Simple. Merely symbolic.

I never take off my rings. And because of that, (excepting the one I purchased for Noga since it's too new yet,) the bands have become flat at the bottom, from all of the stuff I used to do with my hands as a baker. They've had flour embedded in them, been smacked on the table. Whatever my hands have done, these rings have done. The other ring I wear is actually on my right thumb, and it's a lone flower in the center of a highly detailed background, that I bought the night I heard that Noga died so abruptly in that horrid accident downtown in April of this year... There is a purpose to this, let me get to it.

Now, the ring that Elizabeth gave me, symbolizes friendship. I've known her for 18 years, and honestly, I'd be nothing without my friends. It's also remarkably pretty. (Hey, I'm a girl, I get distracted by shiny things once in a while.) It's not just my and Elizabeth's friendship that it symbolizes to me though, it's the connection I have with all of my friends. Admittedly, wearing a half dozen rings from each friend on my fingers would look a little stupid, so I abstain. Not that I mind having them, I just don't switch my jewelery all that often.

The ring for Noga... Well, that's pretty self-explanatory. He was a rare human being, and I had known him since I was in kindergarden. It's in memoriam moreso than anything else, and though my memory is long, and I can remember things most people that knew me back then and still know me now wouldn't remember. It's not infallible, though. *shrugs* It's a case of having this fantastic long term memory, and a not so hot short term one, which can be frustrating.

I digress. The promise ring I gave myself... That's the one loaded with meaning... Not many people know this.

This solitaire, represents where my morals, values and views come into play a little more than the two previous. Ian only knows the promise, and not the PREMISE behind that oath to myself. I didn't get into detail about it.

My first relationship was not pretty. It ended poorly, and honestly, the entire thing was shite. It should have ended three months after starting, and it didn't, so it devolved from there and ended up lasting four and a half years. I won't get into many explicit details because it's still pretty personal, and somewhat painful to discuss... Let's suffice to say that there was a lot of fighting, and not all of it was verbally done. Constantly. It's made me scared of arguements in general.

I picked this ring up later on, about four months after being out of that relationship, when I had started to realize who I was again, and was really starting to shine after that period of my life. It is a promise from me, to me.

My promise is this: "I will always be true to myself."

Why? Because no one else will be as much as I can. However, that's not the only reason why.

When I was dating him, for the first while we were living in his parents house. He and his mother attempted numerous times to mold me from who I was, into something more "socially acceptable" to their family. I was too blue collar, I had too much of an opinion. I was overweight... I still am overweight, I'm a little less blue collar, but all in all, that is what you'd categorize me as, and I'm still very opinionated. Moreso than I was when I was 17 to 21. Or at least more certain of those opinions, But honestly, I don't think it detracts from me as a person. If it does, then I don't need those sort of people in my life that think it makes me less of an attractive individual. I put myself through hell and back trying to become another version of his mother, to please him.

You can ask my friends, who I never saw while I was dating him. You can ask my family, who were worried and scared that I was becoming someone else just for him, (with justifiable reason.) And when I was done with him, it was like a bird being freed from a cage, and I saw my friends again. I realized that they had never left me, I had left them. I look back in horror over the fact that I was willing to marry him, despite the arguments, the physical fights, the slow crumbling of my unique personality to something more acceptable for his family. That I almost had a child with him...

I did like his dad, however, who was more accepting of me than he was. His dad was a pretty good guy.

So, that's why I made my promise to myself. That's why I bought myself a ring. It's my friendship with myself, and no one can ever take that away. It's my Ouroboros. It symbolizes my wholeness and infinity. My attempt at peace within myself.

It's also my next tattoo after the last of my kanji is done. You know, when I get the chance.

If it came down to it and I didn't have these objects anymore, would it really matter? Would the meaning be lost without the symbol that represents it? No, of course not. I'm not that stupid, nor am I that attached to the physical things that are never permanant. It's just nice to have a physical reminder of that meaning. It brings it closer, and more grounded to me, when I'm such a physical person.

Song: Moby -- "In This World"

What's In A Name?

Kabalarians dot com supplied the following information. I think it's reasonably accurate.

Although the name Lindsey creates an active mind and a restless urge to explore new ideas, we emphasize that it limits self-expression and friendly congeniality with a moody disposition. This name, when combined with the last name, can frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses in the solar plexus, heart, lungs and bronchial area.

The name Lindsey creates an overly-sensitive nature which causes you to sense and feel far more than you can understand or put into words. You have a deep, artistic, and creative side which shows through a love for music and literature. Writing is a more natural mode of expression for your deeper thoughts and feelings than the spoken word. You have an ability to concentrate and work intently on anything which holds your interest. However, you prefer to avoid routine, monotony, and mental tasks.

Well, I know I've had bronchitis once, so maybe that's true, but the rest of it is pretty bang on... Though, I'm kinda wondering what "mental tasks" are? Like, problem solving?

Long Time No Hear!!

Hi there, Guys and Gals!

The GSD Podcast for Monday, August 22nd, 2005 is up and running for y'all to go pick up. If you haven't subscribed yet, you can with this url in your iPodderx software, or iTunes 4.9, or any other type of podcast software out there.

So, with too many crazy disasters this week, Newly single, accidentally deleting my Music Library (Aaah!) Finding the funding for school, this 'cast pretty much encapsulates my need to tell chaos to stuff it, and that I'm going to rock the fucking casbah. Take that, Chaos.

It's a large portion of really exciting hip hop, and I really tried to not have too much sappy bullshit in there.

Diggin' A Hole.

Photograph courtesy of Paulinsky

Inevitably there comes a time in your life when you may do something to someone that you're not proud of, and that someone may never really forgive you for. Memories are a long thing, with most people, no matter how forgiving they try to be.

That's called "Taking it to the grave." You search and search your mind to figure out a way to make things right. You wish you could turn back the hands of time, but you can't. It's not possible. And if you are forgiven, that person mostly likely won't look at you in the same light anymore. You've tainted yourself to them. So maybe you'll take the time to tell that person one last time those three words: "I am sorry."

However, if you let it lie too long, you dig your own grave as well as taking it with you, because of your inaction. And, if you've said the words too many times they lose all meaning, becoming empty phrases you say routinely to avoid actually owning up to your actions. If you expect them to forgive you for doing the same action over and over again, and you never manage to change your ways, you'll find yourself licking your own wounds in the corner somewhere, alone, and you shouldn't be surprised that you are.

Music:"Diggin A Hole" -- Big Sugar.

Top Ten Men, #7 Quentin Elias

Quentin Elias

Elias was born on May 10th 1980 in Marseille in the south of France. After his father's death in a terrible accident, Quentin decided to take control of his life and "destiny" and at age 15 he ran away to Paris. He slept his first nights in Paris on the streets, and started working in restaurants and other odd jobs while auditioning for several dancing and singing roles. He was selected from 1,000 participants to be the lead singer in a new band ALLIAGE. Which again, I've never heard of.

Alliage sold more than 5 million CD's, had three albums, six singles on the top five charts and performed all over the world with more than 1,000 sold out concerts. After years of success, Quentin moved to NYC, to produce his own solo album. All I can say is that it's nice to know that a man that looks like him, is closer to where I am located.

Miss Carin, this was the closest I could get to anything "military" for you. I hope it suffices. I looked and looked, Oh, my poor eyes, assaulted with beautiful man flesh. What a rough job I have.

Top Ten Men: #8, Chris Evans.

Oh...oh, oh, oh... *Swoon.*

Ladies, welcome to Chris Evans.

Born in Sudbury, Massachusetts on June 13, 1981, his breakout role as a popular jock in "Not Another Teen Movie" found him in high demand, Chris Evans followed with a role in the moderately successful comedy "The Perfect Score" before truly coming into his own. he took a role as an unsuspecting young man who receives a desperate phone call from a kidnapping victim in the 2004 thriller "Cellular" offered some relief from the seeming drought of choice roles before the cameras. A subsequent role in the same year's "The Orphan King" served as a strong follow-up before hearty roles in such 2005 releases as "Fierce People" and "The Fantastic Four" found him leaning ever closer to becoming a true marquee draw... But who cares! Have you LOOKED at the boy? Honestly, women, if there's a semblance of rational thought left in your head after wondering if you could scrub your laundry across his abdomen, I'm shocked.

All I can say is that during that drought of acting between 2001 and 2004, I was keeping Mister Evans very, VERY busy, and not a complaint came out of him.

Community, Identity, Stability.

Have you ever read the novel "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley? I'm sure you have. At any rate it's one of my favourite books, because it's a unique Science Fiction, it's a very interesting look at society, and caste systems, it has a fantastic group of characters in it with a rather risque look at sexuality and reproduction for the time period the book came out, eschewing monogamy, discussing children's sexuality, fertility, cloning, subconcious and concious human conditioning, physical conditioning, even rascism. It's a very broad spectrum book, it tackles multiple ethical notions and was probably pretty damned controversial when it emerged, first being published in 1932. Every time I pick up the book, I find another nuance in it that I missed before. Whether Huxley was intending it to be there, or if I'm interpreting the novel in my own manner, is something I will never know, and maybe that's the benefit of re-reading a book. Your mindset when you read something will affect how you interpret it at that moment in time.

Anyways, what I'm getting at here, is that there is a scene... I dunno if you remember the scene, but it sticks in my mind, like so many things that stick in my mind with no purpose... At any rate, there is a scene in the book where there is an Epsilon Semi-Moron, the lowest caste of human in this culture, that has been operating the elevator. This is his sole purpose in life, and it's what he does day in and day out. He'll do it until the day he dies. When he's reached the roof, while the people inside are leaving to catch their individual helicopters home, the doors are open, and he exclaims with rapturous joy "Roof! Oh, Roof! " and lets his face turn up into the sunlight until the repetitive mechanism in the elevator tells him to go back down into the building, and his joy fades and he goes back to doing his tasks.

That's me right now. Nothing so dramatic as being attached to something until the day I die that keeps me miserable most of the time, but still...

I'm an Epsilon Semi-Moron that needs to emerge from the dark.

A weird allusion, and highly unflattering, I know. That being said, I figured it was fitting. I dig it. If you haven't actually read the book, I highly recommend it. I find myself picking my copy up every few months and giving it a re-read. If you haven't read it since grade nine, or whenever the hell it was required reading, go pick it up at the library or at a bookstore. It's only ten dollars and it's a great piece of literature.

Confidence Level = 0.

My old assistant manager from safeway, Mark, (a.k.a. "Legs") took me out for coffee and a walk along Davie Street and through parts of English Bay this evening. my old work injury flared up on my left hip, but it was worth the walk. And though I'm *really* spaced out, the evening was lovely, and I genuinely missed hanging out with Legs. I went from working with him almost 4 to 5 days per week, to not seeing him since late April, before my trip to Dallas at the beginning of May.

He's got an attitude that you don't find very often. I've only found it in one or two of my friends, actually. From the moment I met him over a year and a half ago, even as an authority figure (Considering he's six months younger than I am, that's a kicker.) he's been a person that I could just sit down and talk to. We became friends pretty quickly, being the same age, and having similar senses of humour, as well as both being outrageously flirtatious.

Tonight, as we sat down on the logs at the waterfront, and watched the sun go down, we talked about everything... And he listened to a helluva lot from me. I think he heard a lot more into my words than I intended, because I was trying to keep my tone light, and trying to not talk about the things that were really eating away at me, that I was trying to keep calm, but then I guess he could see my facial expression, which lately has been a frown, or completely expressionless.

Sadly enough, he's the only male that I've ever sat down at the beach with and watched the sun set. Hell, other than one brief one night stand at Jericho beach at one in the morning, he's the only guy that's ever taken me to the beach. That dude doesn't count, though.

Mark noticed and mentioned multiple times, that I walk with my arms crossed tightly across my body, and to "loosen up". I know that from a couple of kinesiology books and human body language books I've read that crossed arms indicate a low sense of confidence, body image, or emotional state, and a need to be either alone, or comforted... I didn't realize how much I was portraying that.

I've failed Final Cut, which wasn't surprising considering my lack of enthusiasm regarding it, but rather, very dissapointing on my behalf. I didn't really seem to give a shit about the course itself, being something that I wasn't even intending on doing once I got around to doing actual work. I want to work with print and photographical advertising. As a plus, though, I scored a B+ in my Colour and Concept, which was about four times better than what I did in first term for colour theory, taught by the same instructor. Tit for tat, I guess.

I'm stressed. I'll admit it. Moreso than before term ended, and I'm not digging it all that much. I think I've gone and gotten a little mad, to be honest, and that scares the shit out of me.

I'm contemplating taking a break from writing, and I wish I could take a break from designing as well, if only for a couple of weeks, but I've got a website I'm obligated to produce in a short amount of time.

If my boyfriend has decided to blow me off as so much overly-emotional flotsam, well... I think I need to be single for a long, long time.

No One Likes A Pity Party...

So I guess I'll suck it up that I might have possibly completely alienated myself from my boyfriend, that I just accidentally deleted my ENTIRE music library in iTunes, (All 4000 regularily listened to songs, 67 discs of which I had sold the originals and no longer have to replace the music, to pay for a portion of my tuition for the term just past) that I might not be able to attend the last term of my program financially, not to mention quitting smoking on top n and the first three where I could cry to the point of hysteria if I allowed it... The fact that I've deprived myself of both my boyfriend, who is the balm to my soul a large portion of the time and the person I consider the other half of me, and my music, which I'm kicking myself relentlessly for both, but so fucking angry at myself about the music when that was totally avoidable. The fact that I'm running around rampant, trying to find a way to increase a student loan, and I think my luck has finally run out. *sighs* However, I should never say never. I'm just so damned tired inside.

Actually. all of it was avoidable. Christ I'm stupid sometimes. All in all, the damage was more than I was willing to take, since I lost so many different albums, but some I can recover, by spending a while at a few friends houses, if they don't mind me borrowing some of their time and borrowing some cd's for about five minutes each.

I suppose this should teach me that I can't possess either people, or think that I'm going to base myself off of my possessions, however, both lessons sting like hell.

WHY, is it that when the shit hits the fan, it always sprays entirely in my direction?

At any rate, the perfect song for me right now is this one. Come back babe.

Song: Norah Jones – "Turn Me On"

Song: Norah Jones – "I've Got To See You Again"

Green, Red and Yellow.

Sometimes, you find the perfect opportunity, just by looking up, and taking yourself out of the point of view that you see everyday.

I like the charm of the red and yellow opaque coloured lightbulbs along the green sections, and the strand of christmas lights that is barely visible, in the second tier, right side. click the pic for a larger view.

It's finally started to rain, here in Vancouver, after about three weeks of pretty much solid sunshine, to the point of intolerable heat... For Vancouverites, anyways. I'm sure anyone anywhere sunshiny on a regular basis thinks we're pussies when it comes down to heat. I think the weather has direct influence on my emotions and my mentality, perhaps the tension or change in humidity does something to me. Like turn me into Mr. Hyde from Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. *sighs*


I'm in a pensive mode right now, and I've got a lot on my mind. hopefully, things haven't been blown too far out of proportion because of my temper. (and I do have one, it's just not usually shown...)

It's one thirty in the morning, and I should probably be in bed. Well, technically I *am* in bed, I'm just not sleeping. However, I'm too worried to sleep, and my own guilt is gnawing at me for having an opinion, and being too much of a coward to bring it up before it explodes out of me in a fit of pique that I can't control... making it more damaging than just bringing it up in a calmer manner. The thing is, I apologize about less than half an hour later, for any indescretions I've committed, that I feel are harsh and undeserved... and apologize if my honesty hurts, but sometimes there's no other way to phrase it in the heat of the moment. I might be a softie inside, but I'm no ass-kisser or door mat.

At any rate, I've taken the liberty of uploading a bunch of new photographs in a set in my flickr.com pro account, since I went to the Dr. Sun yet sen chinese gardens in chinatown again, and was trying some new methods of taking photos. Some of them are so sharp they hurt my eyes, and it's miles above and beyond my photographical skills from months past. I suppose playing with the different settings on my camera should have been somthing I was doing a while ago, eh?

I do a lot of stupid things before I think, I guess. In the end, it's just something you learn from.

Top Ten Men : #9 Eduardo Verastegui

EDUARDO VERASTEGUI

Oh, Eduardo. *sighs*

Verestegui is one of today's fastest rising Latino stars. A singer and actor, the Mexican-born Verastegui was seen in Jennifer Lopez's Ain't It Funny video, and is now shooting an independent feature, My Gardener, with Carlos Ponce, in New Zealand. I'd sure like him as my gardener. And poolboy, and stableboy, and any other dirty XXX rated movie out there with a studly young male as the "lead". Hell. He doesn't even have to talk, although, I think "Ay mami del oh, su asno caliente es tan dulce." and "¿Quién tiene su papi?" pretty much covers what they say in THOSE types of spanish movies.

Eduardo was a member of the latin american pop group Kairo, which I've never heard of. He's been involved in five different Mexican soap operas, much to housewives delight in Mexico, and also much to my delight when I stumbled across his picture online, and I think my heart stopped. Just for a moment.



When I first saw him, my eyes glazed over, my little heart grew five sizes bigger, and she went pit a pat, at those dreamy grey blue eyes, and the breadth of his shoulders those thighs, the lips that make the adorable little "o". Oh Eduardo, Eduardo, Eduardo... I need a naked housemaid. Or maybe just a pretty adornment for my bed. Won't you come over?

No More MeMes.

I'm in cahoots with The Mayor, (nothing surprising) and have been scheming with him to get my top ten Men list plastered up in Mitchieville trying to even out the gratuitous amount of titties being displayed for HIS top ten list.

I was telling him in no uncertain terms, (with much flirtation ensuing) that I was tired of staring at cleavage, and if I was going to be doing something as superficial as a top ten list of attractive males because of my goading HIM, it was better suited hand in hand with his rather busty, bosomy-laden wenches on display in Mitchieville. (No, it's no full nudes. Sorry guys.)

There will be a post up there most likely by tomorrow, since the Mayor gets me to do all of his HTML coding etc. anyways, and I've already got his password from previous, not-so-well recieved posts. Whatever. There's a few individuals I'm decidedly ignoring this go 'round. To be honest, and call this what you will... I'd rather post up there in Mitchieville with this sort of stuff, and link with a small post here in GSD announcing the latest hottie on board (for both chicks and.... Dicks... come on, I can't help myself...) to avoid alienating my male readership. Sure. I'm a pansy pussy girl, and I'm too sensitive. Whatevs. (Did I just type "Whatevs"? Jeebus.) However, if the guys that rummage through my shoes in the hopes of finding a pair of wingtips or sneakers have no complaints, I'll just do double posts. Speak up, or forever hold your piece. (hehehe.) I might even get The Mayor to toss his posts my way, and I'll tolerate having semi-clad stunners that make me feel inadequate up on GSD.

Robbie Williams gets his debut tomorrow most likely, and I'm sure the female readership at Mitchieville will appreciate the reprieve from the overabundance of titt-age going on. Number nine will be up the day after.

Any suggestions for the top ten men, I'm all ears. Well... Eyes, really. I'm reading it. You get my drift.

As it stands right now, I'm friggin well exhausted for some reason, so I'm going to hit the hay... At nine fifty three PM. I must be getting old. G'nite guys.

If You're Nerdy And You Know It Clap Your Hands...

*Clap, Clap*


Which File Extension are You?



Which OS are You?
(I don't even know what fucking OS that is, and I'm computer literate!!)


Which Nigerian spammer are You?

Damned Quizilla!!!

You're Most Like The Season Winter ...

You're often depicted as the cold, distant season.
But you're incredibly intelligent, mature and
Independant. You have an air of power around
you - and that can sometimes scare people off.
You're complex, and get hurt easily - so you
rarely let people in if you can help it. You
can be somewhat of a loner, but just as easily
you could be the leader of many. You Tend to be
negative, and hard to relate to, but you give
off a relaxed image despite being insecure -
and secretly many people long to be like you,
not knowing how deep the Winter season really
is.

Well done... You're the most inspirational of
seasons :)


?? Which Season Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

Mmmmmhmmmmm...

There's something unneccisarily hedonistic about being able to sleep in until ten o clock in the morning, and check your email and RSS feeds from the comfort of your own bed, in a reclined pose after a long hot shower. Lovely.

I spent the majority of yesterday with the help of Crystal D, cleaning up after the chaos that second term wreaked upon my humble abode, and rearranging my entire bedroom/office scenario. The evening was filled with playing with my HTML in the GSD template, (which still needs some tinkering.) and browsing the internet to find gorgeous men for my "top ten most gorgeous men in the universe according to Linds" list. I fully admit, that if I was one of the seven deadly sins, I'd be a mixture of gluttony and sloth. At least I can say what I know I am. Though, I'm not averse to hard work when the situation arises.

Madamioselle Jerilyn, from Unfortunate Serendipity tossed a website at me last night that almost had me creaming my jeans. It's called Pin Up Girl, and the styles of shoes, clothes and accessories it contains had me wishing I had about ten grand to toss around. in particular, this pair of shoes That look remarkably similar to the ones up above, but rest assured, I actually HAVE a pair of the shoes above, (and wear them whenever I get the chance) and this dress with these shoes. OR this dress with these shoes... I could just die in retro heaven... I'm sorry, I realize this is waxing poetic about clothing and shoes, but there's just somethings that are always worth mentioning, and some stuff I can't help mentioning.


*siiiighs*

Top Ten MEN.

The Mayor over in Mitchieville has been running a contest for the past week on the top ten hottest women he can imagine. Taunting him that he was excluding his female oriented crowd, I suggested that someone run the "top ten hottest men", and while I was intending to do guest posts in Mitchieville, he suggested that we link each other for every post of beefcake or T&A posted up. He's already plastered three ladies up on Mitchieville, and now that I have some time on my hands (school's out!! Whoopie!!) I'm starting my list.

Without further ado, number ten on my "top ten hottest men in the universe according to Linds", is no one else than Mr. Robbie Williams.

Tattooed, built, sassy, smart and a bit abrasive, I have the total smoking hots for Mr. Williams. Truth be told his face is fair to middling, but if you want me to be blunt, you can't see much with the lights on dim. If anyone would like to wrap Mr. Williams up for a present (It doesn't have to be for my birthday, or for Christmas or whatever, I'll accept a present any time of the year...)

At any rate, I think he's smokin' hot, and I've taken the liberty of posting up one of my fave songs done by him, (since I go for the music as well as the beefcake) Though not all qualifiers on this top ten list are musicians. Expect another top ten masculine hottie within the next couple of days. I'm not going to wax eloquent about the charms of Mr. Williams, I think the photograph speaks for itself. and as to why I admire his rather tempting physique. I wouldn't mind giving him a hand with his currently photographed situation.

Ciaozers.

Linds.

Song: Feel -- Robbie Williams.

How Do I Live My Life? There You Go.

How You Life Your Life

You have a good sense of self control and hate to show weakness. You tend to avoid confrontation and stay away from sticky situations. You tend to have one best friend you hang with, as opposed to many aquaintences. Some of your past dreams have disappointed you, but you don't let it get you down.

How Do You Live Your Life?

Does It work?

Tell me, Oh tell me Mike G, does it work?

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

As You Can See...

I've been tampering with my blogger template. Because I just can't seem to leave it damned well alone.

Actually, it's still a work in progress, I'm changing it so that the posts are not centered, and I'm changing it so that the background takes less time to load... At any rate, I finished school today; or the term at least, and I kind of like giving myself a new pair of shoes to tromp around in.

Comments are welcome, but be nice, eh?

Hello, Darlings!!

The results are in, the total that Blogathon 2005 raised in those 24 hours is $58,146.97. Amazing. I'm proud of each and every one of you for donating, I'm proud of the participants... Hell, I'm just proud. I'd give each and every one of you a big kiss on the cheek, and a huge hug, unfortunately, distance and time (Blasted time!!), fight against me.

A special shout out to Mr. Mike Guerrero, Mr. Devin Pike, and Madamoiselle Jerilyn Freeman, for contributing their literary talent to the cause. Your writings were insightful, entertaining and appreciated. Thank you. Also, my Momma, who drew some awfully purdy pictchoors for shwag, and Mr! Erik who graciously let me put a bunch of shit on the server.**

Speaking of shwag, (and I know this is the part you've all been waiting for...)

Ian is the recipient of the "Glamazons From The Past" images, (the four, hand drawn sketches of 1930s and 40s starlets done by my illustrious mother) for being the highest pledge donation.

Justin, one of my many compadres in crime from the DFW metroplex, scored the music compilation and original designed cover art which is approximately 63, 192 bitrate mp3's which is all of the music that I tossed up on the server, and a large portion of the stuff that went up on Blogathon Radio that was converted on the fly.

Congrats guys. You rule, and have earned my undying respect. (This goes to all y'all, and not just the two aforementioned gentlemen.)

Once again, thank-you. You guys are the jalepenos on my nachos, the gasoline on my torch, the Va-Va to my Voom! And a million other cheesy cliches; you name it, you are it, and I'm eternally grateful. Your participation made blogathon wholly enjoyable.

*kisses*

Linds.

** Sorry Sweets! I forgot to write that in the email! Brain like a seive! Forgive me?

Lil' Help?

This is a request for anyone with a moderate skill in CSS, (which would be moreso than I) because I'm having no end of difficulty putting a very subtle pattern in the background of gsd. I'm talking really subtle, and I've got my panties all in a knot about it. *sighs* Tried multiple times, but to no avail.

I'll be eternally grateful.

*kisses*

Linds.

If you have any suggestions, email me.

The last one, I swear... For now.

You are a Samurai.
You are full of honour and value respect. You
are not really the stereotypical hero, but you
do fight for good. Just in your own way. For
you, it is most certainly okay to kill an evil
person, if it is for justice and peace. You
also don't belive in mourning all the time and
think that once you've hit a bad stage in life
you just have to get up again. It's pointless
to concentrate on emotional pain and better to
just get on with everything. You also are a
down to earth type of person and think before
you act. Impulsive people may annoy you
somewhat.

Main weapon: Sword
Quote: "Always do the right thing.
This will gratify some people and astonish the
rest" -Mark Twain
Facial expression: Small smile


What Type of Killer Are You? [cool pictures]
brought to you by Quizilla

Which Napoleon Dynamite Character Am I?

You are LaFawnduh. Why are you so sweaty?


Which Napoleon Dynamite character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Which Fucked Up Composer Am I?

Nick Cave... dark and creepy. You're a bi-polar
genius, with equal passion for the most
degrading aspects of humanity, as well as the
beauty & wonder of God and Heaven.


Which fucked-up genius composer are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I enjoyed the questions in this one, to be honest. They made me laugh. I mean who doesn't do herion and run around with scissors in their spare time?

And Lo! The World's Most Geriatric Bus Driver!

Today, was a day that shall remain in my memory as one of the WORST days I've ever had on Public Transit. At least until tomorrow, when I've forgotten all about it. Such is the life of a girl with a memory like a sieve, who never really holds a grudge.

I live in the suburbs. I take a bus to the skytrain, the skytrain to downtown, and then a bus uptown to upper Vancouver for my daily ride to school. On good days, it takes me an hour and a half. On BAD days, like today, it took me almost two and a half hours. Some days it takes up to three and a half hours just to get home, and I usually end up doing my homework on the bus and the train.

I swear to god, that today I had the most:

a) Geriatric,
ii) Grouchy,
3) INSANE,
D) All of the above.

Bus drivers on every single public transit vehicle I took today. Not only that, but apparently I'm not aware enough in the morning to realize that the transit system has changed overnight, and the spot that I've waited for my bus EVERY DAY for the past eight months, has magically changed without warning. I don't notice this for 40 minutes, therefore leaving me an hour late for school this morning, and feeling pretty snarky. The way home wasn't much better, with my bus driver seemingly possessed by the spirit of Evel Knievel on speed, and I swear to gawd, at least three little old ladies went ass over tea kettle in about fifteen minutes. Not to mention the lady that got on with her toddler in a stroller, and the bus driver started revving the engine and rolling away about two seconds after she stepped onto the bus, and hadn't even sat down and made sure her kid was stable. The guy is a dickhead with no concern for the people he's moving about the city. Honestly, if you hate your job that much, why bother? *sighs*

At any rate, I'm notorious for thanking bus drivers. Manners were beaten into me by my parents, and by god, my kids (if I ever have them) are going to have it beaten into them. As a matter of fact, I can tell where the individuals riding the bus grew up, by the way they thank the bus driver. (or don't) Kids that grew up in the suburbs, that only had to take the bus sparingly, are usually the ones that thank the bus driver, and leave from the front doors to do so. Kids that grew up in the city, either show indifference, or holler their appreciation from the back doors while exiting. Kids that grew up in surrey, spit on the bus floor, talk loudly to their friends on their cell phones, or yell at them from the back of the bus, have their music so loud that it's a wonder they can hear after they turn it down. (Man, I'm getting ooooold.... *sighs*)

Whatever. I just know, that by the time Friday rolls around, I DESPISE humans, and thank the Lo'd that I can have two days off to recuperate from my disliking of Homo sapiens.

I'll give it some credit, and admit that Vancouver and the surrounding area has a pretty damned good transit system, and you can get around anywhere. (Within reason.) It's nice in some aspects, but as well as having a very elaborate transit system, we've got a very VERY expensive system. I'll paraphrase Ryan, my old roomie, who has travelled all over the world. He's said flat out to my face, that Vancouver has the most expensive transit system in the world, comparatively. Which is true. An hour and a half one zone (The lower mainland is divvied up into three segments) is a buck seventy five. two zones is two fifty, and three zones is three bucks Even-Steven. A three zone month farecard, is one hundred and thirty one dollars.

That's insane.

Though, given the fact that gasoline is upwards of a buck-oh-eight a litre lately, it's much cheaper to take transit.

Just make sure you have time on your hands.

...

Oh, and that you're able to catch little old ladies quickly.

Hey!!

To the socially inept individual that is HOLLERING instructions to some broad on the fourth floor of the Vancouver Public Library, where there is wireless access, I have a request.

Wanna hear it?

Here it goes.

"Shut the fuck up."

If I can hear you over my headphones, and you're in one of the "meeting rooms", You're way too goddamned loud. Just because the chick you're talking to has English as a second language, doesn't mean she's hard of hearing. Talking LOUDER doesn't make it easier for her to understand you, it just makes you look like an idiot. Not just to her, but to everyone else on the fourth floor. My head wasn't the only head that turned around when you opened up your pie hole. Thirty other people just gave you nasty looks as well. (To which you are oblivious to.)

Also, to the ass hat that is sitting across the desk from me, I wish you'd stop bobbing your head up and down and checking out every chick that walks in. It's distracting. Just because they have a twat, doesn't mean that they're gonna let you at their meat taco. You're so twitchy it makes me think you're on crack.


Oh yeah... Your laptop is sucking all of the wireless signal from this desk. You suck.

Man... I'm bitchy. I'm going home.

500th Post...

And what better to show you guys, than how much Adolph Hitler LOVED watermelons? He was SO passionate about them. Moreso than eradicating the Jews, and creating the Aryan Nation.

Yes, this is real film footage. He's saying "Good, To The Last Drop!"

In German, that's "Gut, zum letzten tropfen!"

Once again, NO rest for the wicked.

Since I had to do a review of an art Gallery for my Colour and Concept course, I figured why the hell not post it. It shows I'm cultured, or some shit. Y'know, like yogurt.

After this, I'm sleeping the sleep of angels, on my bed of clouds and covered in a feather duvet for at least 12 hours. I'm not going to school tomorrow.

The Contemporary Art Gallery, Vancouver, British Columbia.

The display they had going on was "Unterspiel" an exhibit from five different artists or group of artists from Vienna. MY interpretation of the entire exhibit, was largely based around emotional response.

The first exhibit shown was actually on the outside of the building. They had draped false hair, or fur, across the tops of the contemporary art gallery sign, and I found it interesting to see how the fur/hair had molded to the tops of the letters, and unless you knew what it said underneath the hair, you wouldn't know what the building was, or what the sign said. I suppose in a way it's them saying that you don't know what's underneath hair. (as in animals, even humans with long hair that covers their face.) and how it can be used as a way to hide from things. At least that's my interpretation.

I checked out was a video presentation in a dark room projecting a tour through the underground canals of Vienna. I found it fascinating to see the part of a city that probably isn't shown to many people, and it wasn't necessarily unpleasant to me, but more evoked my curiosity of seeing what would be around the next bend when he was maneuvering his boat around the corners, and down dark tunnels. Michel was saying that she felt more physical effects from viewing it, like smell, however, I found it evoked a very strong emotional response, (intense curiosity, the desire to be doing that myself, and at the same time, mild fear and apprehension, wondering what would happen to the guy in the boat, and what if he went down one of the canals that turned out to be dangerous) and almost no physical response.

The third display I looked at was an exhibit featuring an approximately 12 foot long, by 8 feet wide by two feet high large container of soil, a plywood coffin resting in the dirt, and a couple of shovels standing in the soil. Along the edge of the wooden container holding the soil, there was Polaroid photographs of people lying in the coffin. About 7 feet before the exhibit, and over to the right, There was a pair of televisions sitting facing slightly opposing angles. On one they had a video of the two artists removing soil from the top of the coffin, unscrewing the lid, and then helping a person out of the coffin, in essence they had been buried alive, in a sealed coffin, for approximately 5 to ten minutes. The other television screen was black a majority of the time, and the only thing that was happening was the sound of scraping. After about five minutes of watching, you saw light on the screen and you realized that this was the person inside of the coffin, holding a video camera, and recording the entire experience of being buried alive. This evoked a strong emotional response from me. I wouldn't mind being IN the coffin, BUT! I would NEVER actually be sealed in the coffin, have the lid screwed on, and then be buried underneath about 60 pounds of soil. The mere though makes me shiver in horror.

In the same room, there was a series of photographs, approximately 10 images of the same room, with the furniture rearranged in different ways, from the typical bedroom arrangement, to odd arrangements where the furniture was wrapped in sheets, and stacked on top. I found it interesting that in some of the pictures, the headboard was still attached to the wall, and the bed was leaning up on its end with it's underside facing the inside of the room.

The fourth exhibit was a video run on loop underneath the stairwell, of a woman whose behaviour was hard to distinguish between laughter, and hysterical crying. It evoked a sense of sympathy from me, as well as confusion. It's hard to draw the line between crying, and laughing so hard that you are crying.

The last exhibit I saw was the bathroom mirror, which was circular, the mirror had been smeared with an opaque, white skin-cream, (most likely a Nivea type product, we touched the very edge, where it had gone onto the wall to see if it was toothpaste, or noxema, to smell the stuff. I think what the artist was alluding to was the human obsession with superficiality, and the desire to look as best as possible. By smearing the mirror with this cream until no reflection was visible, it made the need to cover your skin with moisturizer a moot issue. The concept behind this particular exhibit made me smile.

All in all I find that I have a difficult time "reviewing" modern contemporary art. The concepts behind them, unless stated to the person viewing the exhibit leave it up to so much interpretation that it's difficult to come to a conclusion. I'm more a person that takes things literally when they are placed in front of me.

_____________________________________________

Now, If you want my NOT so professional response to this (since this was emailed to a teacher about five seconds ago) Here's the Dilly-yo. I effing well HATE Modern, contemporary, interpretational art. I have my reasons, and they are simple. Like I wrote in my review, I'm a literal person. I don't fucking KNOW what these guys are trying to say. The whole point of art, to me, is to express a personal view on something, and while I found these exhibits interesting, (Make no mistake, The concepts behind them were neat.) the lack of explanation left me frustrated as hell. I don't know what these dudes were trying to say. What the hell WERE they trying to say? I deliberately left out part of the exhibit, for fear of actually writing my honest opinion on it, about a trailer outside of the museum, that had shit painted all over it, that *apparently* had been used to sell hot dogs, or something stupid like that, in Vienna somewhere. There was a little T.V. in there, with the sound on full blast, but you couldn't hear the damned thing, since it was screaming hot out, and i didn't feel like burning my ear off by pressing it against the outside wall of the trailer.

Oh. I almost forgot. I went to see this with two classmates, Nick (Otherwise known as "Nick the Nineteen", and Michel. All three of us were piqued by the coffin exhibit, and with the polariods all over the edge of the ledge, and the step to get into the exhibit still there, we thought it was interactive. Nick had brought his digital camera along with him, and Michel and I dared (how mature, eh?) Nick to lie down in the coffin, while I snapped a picture or twelve. He agreed, She held his backpack, and I jumped up into the exhibit to take the photos.

We got one pic of him lying like he was dead, with his arms crossed over his chest, and another where he's doing a pose like a zombie, sitting up out of the coffin with a grimace on his face, before the dude in charge of the front desk came to the back and gave us hell for touching an exhibit that was apparently, NOT interactive. It's a giant fucking box of dirt and a cheap plywood coffin with a two dollar polyester pillow in it, man. We're not going to ruin the display. Lo'd Almighty.

Shouldn't they have SIGNS indicating that the exhibits aren't to be touched? Weren't we just interpreting the art in our own way? See! This is why I hate modern, contemporary, interpretational art.

M'eh. Whatever.

I'm going to bed.

Good Afternoon.

I feel hungover.

I also feel very proud of each and every person that contributed to my cause, other's causes, commented, posted, worked on the blogathon site, you effing well name it. Great job. You proved that you gave a shit about what goes on in this world, and raised a huge amount of moolah for various organizations. I applaud you.

Jerilyn took the effort into copying and pasting my entire 'thon contents into word, and doing a wordcount for me. Here's the screen capture.


I hope you guys can read it. As it stands, I'm taking a few days off of blogging, but I'd like to say a something first because, apparently, I'm a woman of many words. *smirks*

Devin, what you wrote about in Swamplog b2k5 was a very personal, very deep story. The fact that you had the balls to share it with the world, is admirable. Thank-you. You were the only person, (only because you were writing along with me) that was here pretty much the entire time, excepting your troubles with the road warrior, and I think if I wasn't running around in a panic trying to gather up some music for you between one and four in the morning, I would have crashed and burned. Oh, and Hey! Next year, why don't you try blogging from home, sweets.

Jerilyn. Madamioselle. You, are a goddess. When D had everything under control (or a semblance of it) and he was the proverbial balls deep making sure that blogathon radio was running smoothly, he got pretty quiet. I had nothing to do, other than write. No one was online, other than Dev and myself, and you were my own personal saviour at the end of it all. You kept me awake for that last hour and a half. Thank you. I wasn't coherant enough by the end of my babblings to do it justice, but now you know. I wouldn't, Honestly I wouldn't have made it without you popping back online to save me.

That's it for now. I have two assignments due tomorrow. One of them is Typography. Hooray. more typing. I have to get to work.

*kisses*

Linds.

Shoutouts Number 2.

So, to tally it up, blogathon 2005, raised $55,460.47 for various assorted charities across the world. Hehe. guess who the that tagalong 47 cents belongs to? *smirks* damned Erik. You made your mark, sweets.

At any rate, This is a shoutout to the contributors to my portion of the 'thon, I'm listin' them off, since they've posted as non anonymous contributors.

Dr. Ryan Maynard. He got this party started, by pledging a buck an hour. You have to start somewhere, and I hope your happy, darlin' that I pulled it off. I sure as hell earned every dollar for the Canadian Cancer Society. Thank you Dr. Maynard.

Devin Pike. Matched my 20 for the Swamplog, and made me grin like an idiot when I saw it. Thank you, Devin.

Ian Scott. Donated 50 bucks, and pledged fifty on top of that, for a total of 100 bucks. My total up there isn't accurate, but there's nothing we can do about that other than written acknowledgement. Ian is the winner of the 4 "Glamazons From the Past" images. Thank you, Ian.

Arthur H. Rivers (aka. River Rat) took my taunting tease of titty pictures (whooo, alliteration!) to heart, and pledged 20 bucks to the cause. Your pic will be in your inbox soon. Give me a few days. I need to recoup from this 24 hour crazyness. Thank you, Arthur.

Mr! Erik. Ah, sweetheart. Donating your 25.47, and coming up with the idea from your D&D dice. you've definitely made your mark on this event, whether you meant to, or not. Thank you, Erik.

Jerilyn Freeman. You rock the known universe, Sister of my heart. you and that boyfriend of yours, who made my day with that absolutely precious picture. you're 25 dinero's go towards funding Cancer research. Thank you, Jerilyn.

Justin Baker. Your family has had run in's with cancer too many times for comfort. Actually once, is too many times for comfort. The MP3 discs are yours, with a fully original designed cover. Thank you for your generosity, Justin.

Blueyesbluecar, AKA Crystal D. Hey lady, you know you rock. You saved my butt, and I appreciate you more than you know. Thank you, Crystal.

Candace Waldron. I've been wracking my brain, trying to figure out who you are, but I can't figure it out. Though, considering the shape my grey matter is in right now, it's a moot attempt. Thank you for your generosity, Candace.

I just want you guys to know, that you rock the whole flippin' planet.

I'm finishing everything off with some Green Day. From the new album, "American Idiot" the song is "Wake Me Up, When September Ends" and it's the last thing you're listening to on here for a while. Truth be told I'm getting up at noon. But that's another story. One saved for another day.

Thanks you guys. Very, very much.

*kisses*

Linds.

Okie Dokie.

So starteth the shoutouts.

First of all, a very VERY big thank you to Mike Guerrero, from Churn for his delightful post on Tipping. No, not cows, Gratuity. As in Servers, waiters/waitresses. He saved my butt at about five pm my time, seven pm his time, to let me get out of the house, absorb some natural Vitamin D, and go get a bottle of Coca Cola. Some days, I think I'd sell my soul for a bottle of coke.

Secondly, Devin Pike, For coming in to GSD, and proving to the crowd of my regulars, that I really didn't make you up. I'm joking. Your roundabout post on The Canadian Medical system was very tongue in cheek, and very appreciated. Thank you for trusting me enough to take a turn driving the Swamplog.

thirdly, but not in my heart, you guys are always equal, Mizz Jerilyn, Madamoiselle Unfortunate Serendipity, Holy god. Your post was both well written, touching, and inspiring. You don't give yourself enough credit for your writing skills, and I hope to hell your traffic DOUBLES from this event.

All three of you deserve big sloppy wet kisses on the cheek, and huge hugs. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now, Erik, My darling Mr! Erik. Thank you for letting me use your server space for the time of this entire 'thon. I owe you. Multiple times. You have no idea how much you saved my ass.

Crystal, for bringing me a latte, and coming over to assure me that I wasn't alone. It was getting pretty lonely here for a while, and you saved the day. Seriously.

Next post will be the pledge givers. Since y'all are ballsy enough to not post anonymously, I'm going to give you all the due you deserve.

I'll be back, with my last post popping up there at six am.

The song up on the server, for this second to last post, is "Gel" by Collective Soul.

Enjoy.

Good morning!

An hour more to go, and Blogathon 2005 is officially over and done with, and I've got a lot of shoutouts to do for you guys. I realize I'm petering off, I'm still helping D out with music, and quite honestly, I think now, that my second wind has gone off and forgotten me. I'm tired. I'm going to go full haul, but man alive. I'm not as young as I used to be. Or as drunk as I used to be at this time of night.

Wanna know something funny? My alarm clock just went off, for the same time it went off 24 hours ago. That's actually got me peaked a little.

The song up on the server for this post is "Diggin A Hole" by Big Sugar, A band out of Alberta, that kicks a whole lotta ass.

I think...

The last time I did a 24 stint of anything, was when I was working for in the bakery and I was the first person on shift. I used to start my shifts at about four in the morning. Some days at three fourty five in the morning. It's a gadawful time to get up, I'll be perfectly honest. The average human being feels terrible getting up at seven thirty, much less three in the morning. The Jewish princess took me out to karaoke, and I agreed to go. I think it was more than 24 hours to be honest, and I was royally sauced by the time it ended. I think I was up until eleven that morning, and I topped it with a shift at the end of my adventures at the bar.

Rest assured, frying doughnuts at six in the morning is a disgusting task, and I pity anyone that has to do anything of the sort. I've never regretted quitting that job in my life. I made the deliberate decision to start my schooling rather than continue working a job I hate. To be honest, I'd suggest that to anyone that feels like they are stuck working that day to day job, counting the hours until the end of your shift, counting your shifts until the weekend, counting the weeks until your holidays. You get the gist of what I'm saying. I'm thrilled that I've found something that I'd consider a niche, and though I'm not a professional by any means, I've been told that my eyes seemed to express "determination". Right now all you can see when you look at my eyes, is the pair of Louis Vuittons underneath them however.

I've picked "Black Coffee", By Ella Fitzgerald, one of my vocal Icons, for the next half an hour. I hope you enjoy it.

Time to recoup.

Things have been juggling between Frantic panic, (Hey! that would be a GREAT band name... Come to think of it, so would Minor Crises.) and now, I've got the chance to take a breather. Devin's got the situation with Blogathon radio under control now, mostly supplied with music from my music library. I'm feeling exhilerated, to be honest. I've been "running around" like a maniac, and apart from the knots in my shoulders, and the ache in my lower back, from sitting typing so damned much, I'm feeling pretty good.

Mike G, from Churn was taunting me by asking when I was going to break, and I told him, defiantly even that I might bend, but I sure as hell won't break. I'm here for the long haul.

at any rate, I've got a RARE track for you lucky few that are staying up so late, reading my barely coherant text. I have... As I write this with a HUGE grin on my face, a live version of "Potholes In My Lawn", by De La Soul, for you guys to listen to.

Enjoy.

Holee!!

So I'm sitting outside, gathering my wits about me, and not more than ten feet away from me, is a young skunk.

Linds freezes, watches it, praying this little (and I admit, cute) skunk, doesn't see her moving, doesn't decide that she makes a PERFECT thing to use as target practice. I don't have any tomato Juice in my house, and I don't think OJ is going to cut it.

As you guys might have gathered, I live with my grandmother, who's just turned 74. Life can be trying at times, living with her, she has a tendency to nit pick, and I'm not the most collected person at times. though, right now, I'm faring so well I can't believe I've been up for almost 23 hours. (I've been up since five fifteen, getting ready for this.) I've already got my day planned tomorrow, and I'm only alloting myself six hours of sleep, since I have two final projects due on Monday. To say I'm FREAKING, albeit in my head, is bang on the money.

I've picked the song "Get Ur Freak On" by Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliot, one of my all time favourite female rappers, as the next song for the GSD podcast.

Enjoy. I really have no idea if anyone is listening to these things, but from what I've gathered, I've got a few readers zipping back and forth. Thanks, even if you don't comment, rest assured, I appreciate it.

Oh Shit!

The song for this entry, I almost forgot, is What a Wonderful world, by Joey Ramone.

Enjoy.

Double duty at the Blogathon Corral.

I'm covering for D on the swamplog b2k5, and I'm doing stuff in here. I'm glad I type fast.

so to finish my story, my ever so embarassing one, SIX years later, I'm in highschool I'm graduating from Central, and Blair is graduating with me. Like I've said, he's the exact same age as me, but he started in my highschool in grade ten, because he went to a junior High.

His best friend Ryan, (not the same as my Ryan) had his highschool annual, and I'd become pretty good friends with blair over the years. He didn't seem to remember the event that happened, but if he did, he put a good face on pretending he didn't.

I scored Blairs annual from Ryan, and went and wrote out the entire story, leaving my phone number at the bottom. I run into him occasionally downtown, at various karaoke bars, and he always looks pretty happy to see me. Of course, I'm about three MILLION times more put together than I was in highschool, but that's neither here, nor there.

Embarassing Moments. Part 2.

Okay, so my friend Nita and I decided to go to the park. Simple enough. I had chosen to wear a long sleeved pink plaid button up shirt, (Don't ask. I had no style until I was about 18...) and we were going to go chill out.

We get to the park, and we're hanging out by the swings. Walking down the path towards the ballpark area, Lo and behold, my crush. Blair. GREAT! now I'm thinking,

"How do I show off for him? I KNOW! I'll JUMP off the swing!! Brilliant!"

No! Not brilliant! STUPID! Very, Very stupid! problems arise, problems I'm not aware of. I'm swinging as hard as possible, I'm getting as high as I've ever gone on the swings before, and I didn't seem to notice that the side of my shirt has snagged on the S hook on the side of the swing.


I jump. I yell "HEY BLAIR!"

My shirt, all pink, plaid, buttoned up goodness, pops open. Oh god. The look on his face. Oh god. the look on Nita's face. I grab the shreds of my poor, mangled shirt, pulling them together over my body. Remarkably. I've landed on my feet. I run hell for leather behind a tree. I'm mortified. Nita is laughing so hard, she's doubled over. Tears are streaming down her face.

*sighs*

This story isn't finished. One more post, and I'll have it done. You get no songs this entry, Ian was greedy. :P listen to those ones.

*kisses*

A Request For Ian...

Well, Two, actually. This post is early, since Ian should have been in bed AGES ago! You crazy, Ian.

Fat bottomed Girls - Queen

Bicycle - Queen

Quick Question!

Hey Luka, Site Monitor!

Do you have a song you'd like to hear? I probably have it on my comp!

I live to serve.

Crisis, averted.

Or at least we hope.

At any rate, enough about that, I'm going to tell you all a story. I'm actually going to expose my soul, and tell you my most embarassing moment. Or at least the most embarassing moment I can remember. But not the whole thing, This is part one.

When I was about 14 years old, I was involved in numerous choirs. One of which was the Burnaby District Youth Choir. Now, while attending this choir, I happened to meet this guy, named Blair. Tall, with blue eyes, dark hair. Yup. you guessed it, Linds, was in puppy love. Immediately. As it happens, of course a guy my age (and I'm talking EXACTLY my age, we shared the same birthday) happened to be one of the only guys that talked to me. Like I said in a previous post, I was a shy girl. I was also usually ignored.

Now, time progressed, we did a bunch of shows together, etc. and the choir session ended. simple enough.

I had a girlfriend at that time, and unfortunately I haven't talked to her in years. Her name was Nita. Very nice girl. East Indian background, and like me, was one of the misfits in our school. and both of us, had started.... developing... at a rather early age. Okay, I'm not going to be coy, here. We were both rather busty. Busty enough that some of the kids in our class accused us of padding our bras. Not so, my friends. and I'll tell you why. *I* had a serious aversion to wearing a bra. like most girls, I found it uncomfortable. Mainly because I wasn't used to wearing one... This has relevance. Hear me out. If not in this entry, than in the next one, which will be the finishing segment, within the next half an hour. Consider it a titty teaser, and you'll get a good chuckle, because hell, I can laugh at it now, and I'm comfy enough bringing it up in the first place. Consider it part of those "loosened Inhibitions" that I was mentioning earlier on this afternoon. Y'know. The ones I was telling you I was dreading. Hell. I'm lucky enough to make a coherant sentence right now. If I make less than four spelling errors an entry, I'm shocked.

The song up on the server right now, is done by Dirty Vegas, and it's called "Simple Things, Part 2." A fantastic tune, that borrows some Pink Floyd "The Wall" along the way.

You can listen to it here.

Enjoy.